Chapter 9
Paying it Forward
***Milky Way Galaxy (Local Spur Arm)***
**Dead Space (Colonial Fleet)**
*Colonial One (Press Room) [five hours later]*
Being present for this was hard, even though he didn't know anyone that was lost. Marcus stood at the back of the room observing the memorial with a heavy heart, but he knew that they had all done their best. Despite the losses they had suffered, this entire fleet would've been destroyed if Doctor Jackson hadn't have convinced Colonel Davidson to try and open negotiations. It was a fucked up situation, there was no doubting that, but it could be worse. It could be far worse.
"So say we all," the President finished her speech and the entire room echoed her last words.
Marcus made a mental note that there was some significance to the line. He would have to look into it later. With a solemn look about her, the President walked up to a white board where a number was written. She hesitated at that board before erasing the number forty-nine-thousand, nine-hundred-ninety-eight and replacing it with the number forty-seven-thousand, nine-hundred-seventy-two. Between the damage done to the ship the Odyssey had defended, the Expedient, and the loss of the ship on Galactica's flank, the Olympic Carrier, they had lost two-thousand, twenty-one civilian lives and five Viper pilots.
The crowd began to break up and disperse, some going to a corner for private prayer, others heading for the hangar bay where Raptors were waiting to take them back to their ships. Marcus stayed behind and waited for the room to empty out before approaching the leader of the Colonial civilian government. She acknowledged him with a nod and motioned for him to follow as she headed further into the ship. They reached her office before the woman spoke again.
"I wanted to thank Colonel Davidson in person for his help defending our people, but I understand that the Odyssey is damaged and there were fatalities during a boarding action that require his attention," the President said in an apologetic tone.
"We lost two Marines in the initial assault. They died holding off the Cylons long enough for reinforcements to arrive. Their sacrifices will not be forgotten," Marcus replied.
"Did they have families?" President Roslin asked sadly.
"They did," Marcus replied in kind as he took the seat opposite her. "One was married with two kids. The other… his wife is five months pregnant. We're not even sure we'll be able to get his body home for a proper burial before his child is born."
"Gods," Laura said as she buried her face in her hands. "I'm so sorry."
"This isn't your fault," Marcus replied, slightly confused.
"Not mine, but ours," Laura insisted as her eyes met his. "You have no business here. Your people are your own and I can't thank you enough for your help, but this isn't your fight. You shouldn't be dying on our account. Your wives shouldn't become widows in our war. Your children shouldn't be orphaned by our mistakes." Laura shook her head again and fought back the forming tears. "Thank you."
"Commander Adama filled in Doctor Jackson on the Colonial's history with the Cylons. He sent us the brief version."
"You must think we're all frakking idiots."
"The Colonials aren't explorers. You've lived on your twelve worlds fighting each other and were content to do so for a long time. We were like you once, but we only had one world to fight each other on. Then we reached past orbit and we found life in the stars. It took aliens attacking our world to give us a semblance of unity. It took the Cylons to do the same for you, but what you'll soon realize is there is more to this galaxy than you could possibly imagine," Marcus replied in a comforting tone. "There have been races far more advanced than your own that have made bigger mistakes and still survived. You're not even the first species we know of to have created robots only to have them rebel against them, and your mistakes with robotics isn't the first war against machines we've fought."
"I don't doubt that," Laura said with a nod.
"Really?" Marcus asked. "Doctor Jackson was under the impression that Commander Adama didn't believe that aliens existed."
"'Life here began out there'," Laura explained. "These are the first words in our Sacred Scrolls, but 'This has all happened before,' is my personal favorite. If life here began out there and this has all happened before, then why should I doubt you?"
"Do you have a spare copy of your Sacred Scrolls?" Marcus asked. "I'd like to understand your culture more, and your universal belief in a pantheon of gods is a rather important part of that."
"You don't believe in the Gods?" Laura asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Zeus, Hera, Apollo, Athena," Marcus replied in a scholar's tone. "Where I'm from, they are known as the Olympian Pantheon. Long ago, the belief in these gods was strong, but there has always been an unsettled false-peace between the religious factions of my homeworld. Many, many years ago there was a historical event known as the Crusades. The believers of a monotheistic religion began taking over their neighbors and forcing their people to believe as they did and worship their God. This started what was to become a long and bloody series of wars fought for no better reason than one group couldn't agree with the others. More wars have been fought in the history of the Tau'ri over religious believes than there have been wars for resources. It's a rather disturbing fact about our sub-branch of Humanity."
"That is rather sad," Laura agreed, but the light in her eyes told Marcus there was more to be said.
"You have questions," Marcus more said than asked.
"Where are you from?" Laura asked.
"I was born in Canada, one nation amongst many on a continental land mass known as North America. Anything more specific and you would only be more confused than you are now," Marcus replied.
"Then be less specific," Laura said. "What do you call your world?"
"My homeworld has many names," Marcus replied truthfully. "To the Goa'uld and the galaxy at large, we are known as the Tau'ri which means 'First Ones,' or 'Those of the First World.' To the Asgard, my planet is known as Midgard. In the language of the Alterans, who first settled the planet so many millennia ago, we live in Avalon on a world called Terra. According to our own coordinate system, we live on P2X-3YZ. Take your pick."
"P2X-3YZ?" Laura asked. "What type of name is that?"
"It's a coordinate system," Marcus repeated. "You put that into our computers and engage the FTL drive and you'll be in orbit of our world in a matter of hours… if the hyperdrive was working properly."
"I've never heard of a coordinate system like that," Laura said in an interested tone. "I'd ask how it works, but I don't think you're the type of man who can give me a clear answer."
"No, I'm not," Marcus agreed. "I'm not a scientist. I'm a cultural analyst and linguistics expert."
"Linguistics expert?" Laura asked. "Does that mean that you don't actually speak Caprican Standard?"
Marcus smiled at the woman before saying, "No, the language I speak is one you won't understand," in English. She looked at him strangely and he made the mental switch back to 'Colonial Standard,' as she had called it. "It's called English," Marcus explained. "It's the most commonly spoken language on my world, but there are hundreds of languages with thousands of sub-dialects native to the Tau'ri homeworld. Our linguistic and cultural diversities have one benefit in that it makes the languages of the galaxy easier to decipher because there's always one language or another that we can reference. Your language, for example, is a combination of two Tau'ri languages we call Latin and Greek. Knowing both of those allows me to speak your own."
Laura's face twisted into a mask of thought at that. She sat there, lost in thought, for a good five minutes before she next spoke. "You said that Tau'ri means 'Those of the First World'," she said. "Now you're telling me that the languages of the galaxy are derived from your own. Are… are you from Kobol?"
Marcus rested his elbows on his knees and leaned in closer as he asked, "What significance is this name to you?"
"'Life here began out there'," Laura repeated. "That line refers to Kobol, the Homeworld of Humanity. The Sacred Scrolls say that we lived there with the Lords of Kobol until a great catastrophe forced us to flee the dying world. If you're from Kobol, then it would explain why you say that you're 'Those of the First World'."
"No," Marcus replied with a shake of his head. "I've never heard the name Kobol refer to a planetary body."
"Then what significance is the name to you?" Laura asked in kind.
"I'm a cultural analyst and linguistics expert," Marcus said again. "I was assigned to an advanced recon team because I'm good at my job. I studied the ruins on a planet somewhere very near this sector of the galaxy. On that planet I found a city that was called Kobol. Perhaps I misinterpreted the information, but I know for sure that the city was Kobol which isn't to say that the planet wasn't also named the same. I know that there's a Texas City in the state of Texas just as there's a New York City in the state of New York, for example."
"If you're not from Kobol, then how does your Midgard, Avalon, or whatever else you want to call it, know the languages of the Gods?" Laura asked.
"Perhaps the people of your Kobol were taken there from my world," Marcus replied.
"No," Laura replied sternly while shaking her head. "The Sacred Scrolls clearly state that all life began on Kobol, not that life was taken to Kobol. Your history must be wrong."
"Madam President…" Marcus began.
"Please, just Laura," Roslin interrupted.
"We are known as the Tau'ri because of what galactic history states, not our own," Marcus continued, ignoring her interruption for the most part. "Our enemies call us what they do because they, themselves, personally came to our world and took our earliest ancestors. They came in ships shaped like pyramids and abducted people by the thousands if not millions. They spread them across the galaxy on habitable worlds, used them as a slave labor force, took them for Hosts, and turned them into the Jaffa. There was a rebellion on Terra that led to these beings, those who called themselves our Gods, being forced off of our world. They left, and their quickest means of reaching our planet was buried and entombed in one of the very pyramids they forced their slaves to build."
"Our Scrolls were written over three-thousand years ago, Professor," Laura said matter-of-factly.
"The events I just described to you took place over ten-thousand years ago and we have the physical evidence to back our claims," Marcus countered in kind.
*USS Odyssey (Auxiliary Lab)*
To say that the man working with her was annoying would be an understatement the likes of which had never been made before. Doctor Baltar was insane. Brilliant, but insane.
"What's this?" Gabi asked as she pulled a small chip out of the Cylon's head.
"That," Gaius said as he took the chip from her as if she was about to smash it on the ground, "is the MCP, otherwise known as a meta-cognitive processor. It's what…"
"Makes a simple machine capable of sentient thought," Gabi cut him off. "Yes, I know what a meta-cognitive processor is. I've just never seen one so… flashy."
"It is indeed an elegant design," Baltar agreed. "The first one used in the original Cylon wasn't even this beautiful."
"That's evolution for you," Gabi said with a shrug as she went back to digging in the Cylon's head.
"Evolution?" Baltar asked in a tone that hinted at having been insulted. "They're machines, not people."
"And machines can't evolve?" the woman asked, her eyes burning with a fierce flame of defiance. "Just look at this thing!" she insisted as she pulled her hand, which had been elbow deep in the Cylon's inner workings, out to wave at the machine strapped to the table. "Does this thing look even remotely similar to how you originally designed it to? Do their Baseships? How about their fighters? Look at this code!" she added as she held up the computer that was far too small to be a real computer and waved it around. "This is a work of art. It's nothing on Da Vinci's level, but it's still good."
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Baltar replied as he looked at the crazy woman.
'Come now, Gaius,' the woman in the red dress said in a seductive tone. 'You can't deny that the Cylons have evolved beyond what the Humans so carelessly limited them to be.'
"Well, I can't argue with that," Baltar muttered under his breath.
'You should help her, Gaius. God would want that.'
"God would want her to create a virus that can destroy the Cylon race?" Baltar asked, trying his best not to be heard.
'Not with that,' the blond-haired figment of his imagination said with a roll of her eyes. 'Help her find her way. They need to go home, Gaius, and you can help.'
"You just want to follow us to Earth so that you can destroy them too," Baltar hissed.
"What did you say?" Gabi asked.
"Nothing," Baltar replied. "Wasn't talking to you."
The woman eyed him carefully then pulled a small device from her pocket. There was a soft white light that scanned over his body then she looked at that computer-that-wasn't-really-a-computer again. "You're not wearing an earpiece and we're the only two in here. What did you say?" she asked again.
"You can tell that just by turning on a flashlight?"
"It's a scanner."
"It still wasn't directed at you."
"Well this is," the woman said before Baltar received a swift fist to his face. As he stumbled backward and tripped over his own feet, Gaius dropped the MCP, the chip rattling on the ground. "What did you say?" she demanded as she towered over his prone form. "Tell me," she added darkly as she drew a gun from her hip, "or I'll end you, this alliance, and your fleet's chance at surviving the Cylon genocide of the Colonial race."
"I said that you just want to follow us to Earth so that you can destroy them too," Baltar pleaded.
"Why would we follow you to Earth?"
"It wasn't directed at you!" Baltar insisted.
"Then who the hell are you talking to?" the angry woman demanded.
"Her!" Baltar said as he pointed to the woman in the red dress.
Gabi turned to look for the indicated person only to have her feet swept out from under her. Her feet went up as her back came down, but she managed to land on her left hand first, her right still clasping the gun. She shifted her weight mid-fall and brought her own foot up in an arc that caught the rising Baltar right between the legs. The man, who had just scrambled to his feet, went back to the floor clutching his reproductive organs while Gabi finished her spin and landed in a crouch, her gun raised and at the ready.
"Either you're stupid, or insane," the woman said as she stood up to tower over Baltar again, though this time she kept her distance. "My guess is insanity," she added as she put her weapon away and activated her radio. "Send a medical team to Auxiliary Lab Three. I think Doctor Baltar might be losing his mind. I want a full psych evaluation and a head scan done up as soon as possible."
"Copy that, Doctor. I'll send someone up now. Is anyone harmed?" the head of the Odyssey's medical bay asked.
"Just his pride… and his genitals," Gabi replied.
"Do you need a psych evaluation too?" the Doctor asked in a serious tone.
"I'll have the Colonel forward you my report," Gabi said without answering the question. Picking up the MCP and placing it back on the table, she grabbed her tablet and left Baltar on the floor knowing that the medical team would be there in a matter of seconds since the medical bay was right around the corner and down the hall.
*USS Odyssey (Halls) [twenty minutes later]*
Gabi was walking down the hall writing that report when she ran into Sam who looked like five hours of sleep had done her some measurable amount of good. The bags under her eyes weren't as prominent at any rate. "I was looking for you," Sam said brightly.
"I was covering my ass," Gabi replied as she finished her report and sent it to both of the Colonels on the ship.
"I heard," Sam said, her words coming out fast. "I need your help."
"With what?"
"I found a way to get the dampeners working better than they are right now. It'll just about triple our FTL range," Sam explained in a rapid tone as she grabbed Gabi's wrist and drug her down the hall.
"I'm not that type of engineer, Sam," Gabi protested.
"I know," Sam replied as she continued to lead the way down the hall. "I need your help with the programming to get the Odyssey's computers to accept the modifications."
"And what about the Colonials?" Gabi asked. "If we leave them behind, the Cylons will see that we're gone and the forces they have guarding that mystery ship will be more than enough to destroy the Galactica and finish off this branch of Humanity."
"Samsara?" Colonel Viride asked as the duo reached the Engine Room. "You want to launch an attack on a Lucian Alliance world with the Odyssey in the state she's in?"
"What?" Gabi asked. "I thought we were fixing the dampeners!"
"I thought we were discussing a way to help the Colonials," Davidson added as he arrived behind the two women.
"It's all connected!" Sam said as if it should've been obvious. "Samsara is a Lucian Alliance farming world a few dozen light years from our current location. We can reach it with the Colonial Fleet in about five days at our current speed, or we can reach it in a matter of minutes and be back here before the Colonials are ready for their next jump."
"And I say again, you want to launch an attack on the Lucian Alliance with the Odyssey in the state she's in?" Colonel Viride asked again.
"It won't be an attack!" Sam countered as she pulled out the tray that held the highly advanced subspace communications system. "Your prisoner said that the last cargo ship sent to Samsara found that satellite a few months ago, right?"
"Yes," the Colonel replied skeptically.
"I'm lost," Davidson interrupted.
"Samsara is a world that we only know about because we intercepted a shipment headed from that world to another," Sam explained as she started working on the communications array again.
"It was that whole fiasco where SG-1 got tagged with a radioactive marker and bounty hunters followed them to Earth," Colonel Viride added casually.
"We never attacked it because it didn't have a Gate and it was a waste of tactical assets to assign the Odyssey to attack a farming world. The climate on the planet is so viable for crops that they can grow a full supply in three months. If I'm right, the Lucian Alliance will just now be sending their convoy to pick up the next shipment. If they leave today, they won't reach Samsara for about a week. If we take the Colonials there and use their Raptors to shuttle the food up, we won't be able to get there, grab the food, and make it out before at least three Ha'tak show up to take what's theirs, but, if we use the Odyssey to beam the supplies up and make runs back and forth, we can transport the whole shipment before they even get close!" Sam explained excitedly.
"You want to take a ship that's running on the bare minimum of its FTL capabilities and put its hyperdrive under that type of stress running errands for a fleet of people we don't know?" Colonel Viride asked indignantly. "I've been against this alliance of yours since the beginning and for good reason. This isn't our war, and Earth has enough enemies as it is. Now that we're committed to this, against my better judgment, I'm still mostly against helping the Colonials with the Cylons, but we are headed towards Earth the whole time we're moving and there is safety in numbers, but I'm not about to advise that we put the Odyssey's systems under that much stress just to get food for these people, because, should the hyperdrive or dampeners give out, I'd rather it be because we were headed home, not because we were going grocery shopping. It's like running around town on a depleted tank of gas. You can either go to the gas station first and get more gas, or you can run out and hope that the towing service doesn't break your bank!"
"But what if you need to run a friend to the hospital on that empty tank?" Sam countered as she looked up from her work. "Wouldn't that be worth it?"
The Colonel didn't have a reply to that. He just stood there, eyes unfocused, thinking it over. Colonel Davidson, however, did have a reply. "I see your point, Sam, really I do, but I can't risk the lives of this crew. If we get stranded out here and the Ori find us, what happens then? The Daedalus is due back in the Milky Way in a few days…"
"If they manage to repair their systems," Gabi interrupted.
"If we can just get close enough to get a message to Earth before they get here, they can either divert to us directly, or pick up the supplies we need then come help us," Davidson finished.
"There's more to this than that," Colonel Viride said as his eyes focused on the room around him.
"How so?" Gabi asked.
"Marcus just updated me on the Colonials' history," the Colonel replied.
"How?" Davidson asked.
"These," the Colonel replied as he handed Davidson the safety glasses he was always wearing.
Davidson slipped them onto his head and felt the pinch as something broke the skin on his head and dug into the flesh near his temple. A small line of text scrolled across the clear lenses of the ballistic glasses before a HUD popped up before Davidson's eyes and started running a scan on the area and the people within in the room. Names and ranks popped up beside faces and a map of the ship appeared in one corner with an arrow icon indicating Davidson and the direction he was facing. If he turned, so did the arrow.
"What are these?" Davidson asked with a sense of amazement.
"A modified version of the SGC's VATS that incorporates a short-range audio-video communicator, a GPS system, and tracking telemetry for keeping track of teammates and high priority targets," Gabi replied as she pressed a button on the side of the frame and a connection was established with Professor Howard aboard Colonial One.
"What's 'VATS'?" Davidson asked.
"The SGC's Virtually Assisted Targeting System," Sam replied. "It's a recent development that hasn't left the labs on the Beta Site yet. I'm surprised that you've not only gotten your hands on a pair, but that you've also modified them so quickly."
"More like forty pairs, actually," Gabi replied, "and I left my designs with General Landry before we left for the Lucian Alliance lab world we were stranded on, so the Beta Site should have them by now. With any luck, the IOA will pull their heads out of their asses and fund their production so that our boys in uniform can stop dying needless deaths because they walked into an ambush."
"Colonel," Professor Howard said with a polite nod.
"Professor," Davidson replied in kind. "What's the situation over there?"
"I just got done translating part of their religious texts, the Sacred Scrolls as they call them."
"And?" Davidson asked as Gabi pushed a few buttons on her tablet and Marcus' voice was emitted from it for all to hear.
"According to this and from what I've figured out from my talks with the President… the Colonial Fleet is currently actively seeking the location of Earth."
"To what end?" Davidson asked.
"Their texts say that there were twelve tribes of Humanity that lived with their gods on Kobol, their homeworld. The tribes were never openly hostile until the twelve came together and created a cybernetic race designed to be their slaves…"
"I thought this was ancient history," Davidson interrupted.
"The Colonials have a saying. 'This has all happened before.' It's their equivalent to 'History is doomed to repeat itself,' and for them it's the truth. These original Twelve Tribes created a cybernetic race that rebelled against them until they were advanced enough that they made robots that look like Humans. After that, they became the 'Thirteenth Tribe' and were allowed to live with the Twelve Tribes, but were never really seen as equal. Sometime later, the early Colonials developed their FTL drives and the Thirteenth Tribe set out to find their own place in the stars. Nearly a thousand years later, one of the Thirteeners returned to Kobol and passed on a map of the night sky on a planet called 'Earth'."
"Earth?" Davidson asked. "There are no robots on Earth."
"He's getting there, trust me," Colonel Viride said.
"The map of the night sky they showed the other tribes was unique in that it showed all twelve of the constellations for the Olympian Pantheon of Gods. Zeus, Apollo, Hermes, Aphrodite… the selfsame constellations that are all visible from Earth during the night."
"So there are robots on Earth?" Gabi pressed.
"There used to be," Marcus replied as he set the scrolls down and picked up a tablet computer, only Davidson able to see the act. The other only had access to his voice. "According to what I can dig up on that timeframe from what I have available to me, that's around the same time that the Goa'uld first showed up on Earth. I think that the Thirteenth Tribe might have been on Earth for a short time before the Goa'uld showed up. Now, if the Thirteenth Tribe all appeared Human, then they could walk amongst us without fear of persecution, and I think they used that to their advantage. They… might have been the ones to lead the rebellion against Ra, but I don't have any definitive information on it.
"My other theory is that they could've been detected by the Goa'uld sensors as not being true organics in nature and eliminated or studied. I need to do more research before I can say for sure, but I have no internet access in space. That, and I need to ask an expert on this. There's also a very strong possibility that the Asgard might have found these guys on Earth and gotten rid of them. Like I said, there's not enough information for me to do anything other than speculate."
"What does this mean for us?" Davidson asked.
"It means that the Colonials are very interested in finding Earth, but not because they mean us harm."
"They're running from one robotic race to another?" Sam asked. "Doesn't it make more sense that the Thirteenth Tribe would side with the Cylons?"
"That's debatable," Colonel Viride argued. "They could be the perfect mediators. If the Thirteenth Tribe could live in an uneasy peace with their creators, than the Cylons might be talked out of their quest for genocide. Tell them the best part,' he added.
"I managed to decipher part of the text that even the most devout follow of the Colonial religion can't," Marcus said.
"How did you manage that?" Davidson asked.
"It's written in Ancient, not Kobolian. The Colonials have no clue that the Thirteenth Tribe was a race of robots. They think that they all left Kobol when the Gods were angered at them and caused a natural disaster that forced them to flee and colonize the Twelve Colonies of Kobol. The truth is, the Thirteen Tribe was divided into two groups; those that wanted to destroy their creators, and those that just wanted to be left alone. Those that wanted to be left alone went to Earth… the others nuked Kobol until it was a radioactive wasteland."
"Shit," Gabi swore. "I got Baltar talking while we were taking that Cylon apart. He told me that there are Human-form Cylon infiltrator models running around the Colonial Fleet trying to sabotage their ships. Before they ran into us, one of them detonated a suicide vest and crippled one of their ships right when the Cylons attacked. That ship was then captured and destroyed by the Cylons. Commander Adama is keeping it as hushed up as he can, but Baltar says that they know for a fact that there are seven Human-form models."
"Models?" Sam asked.
"Like an infinite set of twins," Gabi explained. "Each is a genetic clone of the next within their line, but they apparently have their own identity and sense of self-being."
"And you're just now telling us this?!" Davidson exclaimed.
"It's in my report," Gabi replied defensively.
"I haven't had a chance to read it yet," Davidson admitted as he removed the VATS glasses and handed them back to Colonel Viride.
"So… about that run to the grocery store," Sam said as she pushed the tray back into its slot.
"Suggestions," Davidson asked in a tone nearing exhaustion.
Gabi let out a hiss as she thought it over. Colonel Viride came right out and started talking. "It's not that I don't like the idea of helping them, it's that I don't like the strain we're putting on the Odyssey. If we take the Colonial Fleet with us and just beam everything into Galactica's hangar bays, we could do this without any problem."
"We also really need the points," Gabi added. "If we help them get their food supplies replenished, it might just be enough of a bargaining chip to get them to give us full answers without any bullshit, and right now, we need to know what's going on. We're lying about where we're from…"
"And for good reason," Colonel Viride interrupted.
"… and that doesn't exactly build trust, but I do see your point. However, if we get them food, there's trust gained. We need to be in the Commander's inner circle if we're going to get the answers we need."
"Assaulting one of their men doesn't help with that," Davidson pointed out.
"He said something about following us to Earth to destroy it and I kind of freaked out. I realize now he was probably talking about the Cylons following them to Earth and destroying us, but it still doesn't explain who he was talking to when he said it. I stand by ordering his psych evaluation."
"Back to the point then, shall we?" Colonel Viride asked. "There's still the matter of how to do this. If we take Galactica with us, we can do this in the set timeframe without risking the Odyssey, but it raises the question of whether we're willing to show off the beaming tech. If we do, we get it done. If we don't, we risk getting attacked by the Lucian Alliance and they're sure to send out search parties to see if they can find the thieves, and, if they do find us, they'll attack in force because the Colonial Fleet is so large and it'll be us and the Galactica versus a fleet of Ha'tak and we all know that one Ha'tak could destroy this entire fleet. We also know that the Odyssey won't be able to fight them off, not without them seeing that we're doing all the work. If they see that, they'll know that the rest of the fleet is vulnerable and they'll attack it. To make matters worse, they'll probably try to steal the Odyssey again."
"So we have to show off the beam if we want this to work," Davidson summarized. "I want answers, answers they're not giving us, and this benefits us. I'll allow it, but only if we can be in and out before the Alliance has a chance to pick up any of the ships in the fleet. If they detect us on long range sensors, they'll investigate. If they see us coming, they'll call for help and organize a defense. We have to get there without being seen and get out before we can be detected."
"We also have to take on their Glider ranks," Gabi added. "It's a farming world, but they have a small armada of Death Gliders. Luckily we have an entire Battlestar full of Vipers."
"They don't stand a chance against a Death Glider and you know it," Sam countered.
"Not in a dogfight, but that's not what we'll be using them for. Look, Death Gliders are slow and heavily armored, but they're easy targets. Vipers are fast, maneuverable, and their pilots are well trained. The Lucian Alliance doesn't train their pilots any better than the Goa'uld do, that's why we have the best fighters in the galaxy. What they lack in firepower, the Vipers make up for in combat experience. I'll debrief their pilots on how to handle the Gliders, so don't worry about that," Gabi explained. "That, and I was supposed to go over with Daniel so…"
"What about the Colonial Fleet?" Davidson asked.
"If you can talk the Commander into giving us the algorithms they use to coordinate their FTL jumps, I might be able to do something about that," Sam replied.
"Like what?" Colonel Viride asked.
"If I'm right about how their drives work, the main limiting factor is their navigation computers. They can only calculate so much before it becomes inaccurate. We had the same problem with our earliest drafts of a hyperdrive until the Asgard showed us what we were doing wrong. Now, I know that the Colonial FTL drive isn't new, but I also know that their computers leave a lot to be desired. Their sensors capabilities and communications equipment tell me a lot about their tech base, and I'm not all that impressed… except for with their FTL drive."
"You want to look at their FTL drive and see if you can improve it?" Davidson asked. Sam gave a determined nod and Davidson sighed. "I'll see if Commander Adama's willing to let you look at what they've got, but what about the Odyssey? I thought you said the dampeners were shot."
"That's what she's here for," Sam said as she turned to Gabi. "I rigged the communications grid to emit a constant sub-space field."
"Why? Won't that give away our position?" Colonel Mitchell asked as he entered the room and leaned on the doorframe. "I know the Colonials can't pick it up, but can't the Ori?"
"It's not a signal," Sam explained. "It's just a field of energy to wrap around the ship."
"Why?" Davidson asked. "We need them to transmit a message, not a field."
"External inertial dampeners work differently than the internal dampeners, but are tied into the same system," Sam began.
"Oh, I get it!" Gabi said as she walked over to the nearest terminal and started typing. "You want to create an artificial cushion of stable space around the Odyssey to reduce the strain on the dampeners. If we can stop the bulk of the inertial energy before it hits the ship…"
"Then the external dampeners are under less strain to hold the hull together…"
"The capacitors you installed will last longer before being depleted…
"And the failsafes won't kick in to force us to drop out of hyperspace, which will increase our FTL durability by approximately three-hundred percent of their current functionality level."
"You lost me at 'Oh, I get it!'," Cam said with a confused look on his face.
"They're going to use the damaged communications grid to enhance the damaged inertial dampening system. Since neither of the systems will function properly on their own, we might as well get the more vital of the two working nearer its peak. The specifics of how they're going to do it are pretty much irrelevant. All you need to take away from this is that we'll be able to stay in hyperspace about three times longer before the dampeners need to recharge. Other than that, they lost me when they started finishing each other's sentences," Colonel Viride said while applying pressure to the bridge of his nose. "You and Sam are worse than you and Derek. At least you add to each other instead of finishing the other person's sentence."
"Carry on then," Davidson said before leaving the room, Colonel Viride following behind him.
"How are we holding up?" the Italian Colonel asked his senior officer.
The supposed-Italian in his heritage showed through in his light brown hair with a reddish tent. If he grew it out, it would be an auburn shade, but, because he kept it short, his hair appeared darker, almost fully brown. His eyes were green with a brilliance to them that left one wondering if they'd glow in the dark. He was sturdily built and obviously strong, though his appearance was deceiving. It was impossible to know his true strength, and his bearing said that that was the way he wanted it. Clearly his training had been extensive, and the fact that Ian was almost ready to consider this assassin-turned-soldier a friend was disturbing.
"I ordered the Bridge crew involved in combat to take a ten hour break and let their stand-ins do their jobs. Once they're well rested, I'll feel a lot better," Davidson replied.
"Not had much experience with the night crew?" Colonel Viride asked.
"My night shift Executive Officer manages the team while I'm asleep. She's a stubborn woman set in her ways, but we share all the same morals so I have no issue with her. Her I trust, but I've never personally worked with these men. I've met them, interviewed them, but never tested them in the fires of combat. They usually just run the ship during extended hyperspace jumps and when they're needed. They're the secondary crew for a reason, but not because they aren't trained."
"They've never seen combat?"
"Not from the Bridge while working the controls. I had them stand in and see how it's done when we knew we were going into an engagement one time, but that was it. I just never saw the point in two crews since the ship is on autopilot during their usual operating hours. Now I'm glad they're here."
"How are our stick-jocks?"
"We haven't lost a bird yet, but that's only because our 302s can outrun the Cylon Raiders without reaching sixty percent of their maximum speed, and their armor is thick enough to take an entire salvo from a Cylon fighter craft's main cannon. Two of our birds are torn up. They're flyable, but they're not combat worthy. The repair crews are working on them, as well as the hangar door, but that's trinium that we might need for hull repairs later if the Cylons keep jumping through our shield like that."
"Colonel, do you know the basics of how your shields work?" Colonel Viride asked.
"I know that it protects my ship for a limited amount of time, and I know that some enemies are faster at getting through them than others are," Colonel Davidson admitted begrudgingly.
"There are emitters strategically placed across the hull of the Odyssey. These emitters project a solidified field of plasma that either intercepts kinetic energy weapons like what we and the Colonials use and vaporizes them before they can touch the hull, or it interacts with the naturally generated electromagnetic field that every plasma bolt has and destabilizes the bolt so that it loses its lethality before it can strike the ship. If those emitters are damaged, the barrier is strained."
"I've seen as much."
"Have you heard of the Orion and the type of shield it had?"
"I have."
"We need to adjust the Odyssey's emitters so that the bubble that surrounds us collapses down until it hugs the hull like a second layer of armor. If we do this, then their fighters won't be able to make it past our shield without crashing into either it or the hull, and the hull is far stronger than the hangar bay doors so don't worry too much about hull breaches."
"Why aren't our shields already set to do that?" Davidson asked.
"Because we've never had to worry about fighters jumping past our defenses until now," Colonel Viride replied. "Plasma rounds, even with the shield set to what it is, can and will still damage the hull. Every time you get hit by the Ori, you can feel the ship shake even though your shields are still up. That's because the shield doesn't stop everything; it's not omnipotent. The beam weapon that destroyed the Prometheus without ever taking its shield down is further proof of that fact. Imagine taking on the Ori with your shield collapsed down to the hull. That distance between the shield and armor allows the energy to spread-out and disperse before actually hitting the ship. It's like a pillow between you and a Kevlar vest. It stops the impact from hurting as much, even though the vest is what really stops the bullet. Without that pillow, without that gap, each hit has the possibility to break one of your ribs if it hits you just right."
"That's actually a very effective analogy," Davidson said in a tone of mild surprise.
"I've spent a lot of time around Squints. I've picked up a few things," Colonel Viride replied with a shrug.
"Squints?" Davidson asked.
"Because they're always squinting at something," Colonel Viride offered.
Davidson snapped his fingers much the same way Doctor McKay was rumored to and smiled at his fellow Colonel. "Booth off of Bones."
"The very same," Colonel Viride replied with a smile of his own.