AN:
This little story is a way for me to play with the Nox culture and 'ways'. I personally reckon that the Nox are the largest plot hole within the Stargate universe. They are the most advanced race, both evolutionary and technologically, in the Milky-Way galaxy, yet the show just 'forgot' about them
Timeline wise, this story takes place at the end of season 1 of BSG, but instead of arriving at Kobol, the colonial fleet stumbles upon the Nox home-world.
On the SG1 side, it takes place after the events of Pretence on Tollana, in the middle of season 3.
I did write a SG1 x HP saga, so this story pays a tiny homage to it, by recognising that Lya knows Hermione, the 'British Tau'ri', and also visited London.
One certainly doesn't need to read that other story at all to read, understand, and hopefully - enjoy this one.
Once more - please review.
Cheers!
Green and Blue
"Jump 142 complete, sir!" stated Lt Felix Gaeta from the tactical station. Usually, Command Information Centre of a Battlestar was a rather noisy place, but Faster-Than-Light jumps were tense events, both tactically, and technically, turning the Galactica's CIC dead quiet.
"Report," ordered the Captain curtly.
"All civilian ships present and accounted for, sir," answered the communications officer, Lt Anastasia Dualla, and a tangible relief spread about CIC.
"DRADIS clear," Lt Gaeta reported, before the XO had the opportunity to ask the question. The feeling of relief intensified.
Battlestar Galactica was playing shepherd to a large flock of civilian sheep. The fear of a few of those getting lost during the jump was always viable. Also, there were certainly wolves hunting them in the dark, cold, void.
"Launch CAP!" ordered the Captain, and the tension around CIC ebbed. They were there to stay. At least for a short while. Geata started calculating coordinates for an emergency jump. Those will be spread about the fleet, so the civilian fleet will be ready to flee within a handful of minutes and still able to gather once more at the other side.
"Where are we?" asked the XO, once the ship's CIC officers were gathered around the charts table.
"System TML-972. About five light minutes above the system disk, sir."
There are indications that the second planet from the sun, here, might support life," Commander Adama updated his XO. Colonel Saul Tigh just raised an eyebrow.
"Scans show this is plausible," Gaeta commented softly.
"Launch Raptors for close recon," Col Tigh ordered.
"Raptors launched," they were updated a short while later. Now they waited.
"I'll be in my quarters," Adama told his XO quietly. "Col Tigh has the conn," he added for all the CIC crew to hear.
"Set condition 2 throughout the ship," ordered Col Tigh. He really missed peacetime readiness levels.
"Do you see this?" enthused Karl "Helo" Agathon. He then left his post at the back of the Raptor and came forward to look out the windshield.
"Yeh…" Lt Sharon 'Boomer' Valerii mumbled, mostly to herself.
"Green and blue!" Karl added.
"Mostly cloudy," Sharon replied. She then noticed where Karl was standing. "Get back to your post," he was ordered. "DRADIS?"
"Scanning… No targets. Atmosphere reads as… Oxygen and Nitrogen!" Karl was almost giddy.
"Emissions?"
"None," Karl reported. "Atmosphere doesn't show any signs of industry. There are some kind of unrecognised radiation traces. DRADIS scans are a bit hazy," Lt Agathon elaborated.
"Nuclear fallout?" Boomer asked reluctantly, but it was clearly not that. "ECM?" she further asked, rightfully concerned.
"Not of any recognisable kind," Lt Agathon answered, to set her at ease. "Nothing measurable too."
For a long moment, Lt Valeri just stared at the planet she was floating above. It was of the right size. Had a decently dense and breathable atmosphere. Most of its surface was covered with clouds, but enough of the planet's surface was clear, to show green landmass and some substantial bodies of water. Even some ice cover at the poles, to indicate seasons. This was big! Life supporting planets didn't just float about…
"Heat spots?" she asked.
"None," Karl replied. "Boomer," he added hesitantly, "frak, do you think it's Earth?"
It brought Sharon's wandering thoughts to the present. "If it is, the thirteenth tribe doesn't seem to be home," she answered curtly.
"Right! Listen everyone," she then called over the comm. "Raptor two - jump back to the fleet, report, and ask for a few more Raptors for a full survey. Raptor three - hold guard position in orbit around the equator. I'm heading down to look under those clouds."
A few 'Aye ma'am' responses later, Boomer and Helo were heading into the atmosphere.
"You called?" Lya serene voice came from the control hall's entrance. If she was annoyed for having her family afternoon interrupted, it didn't show.
For a planetary control centre, the hall was a peculiar one. It was brightly lit and opened to the elements, although only a light breeze was felt inside and temperatures were always comfortable. Plants and flowers grew all around the walls. The whole place looked much more like a rooftop garden than a military command centre. Rightly so, since nothing military has been handled there for a very very long while.
It was fully functional, though. A section of the hall was darkened, despite the fact that nothing was there to keep it shaded from the light. In it, a hologram showed a shuttle of sorts deeping into Gaia's atmosphere. Another shuttle was keeping a geosynchronous orbit around the planet. A third one has just disappeared in a flash of light, just above orbit.
For a moment, a shade of a grimace showed on Mor's - the planetary information and response attendant on shift, face.
"Thrusters?" you could hear the clear disapproval in Lya's voice. Thrusters meant emissions, which will harm life on the planet - ever so slightly. On Gaia, 'ever-so-slightly' directly translated to 'much too much'. At least when in came to pollution, it did.
"Where did they come from?" asked Tuphie of the Council, who had just arrived.
Mor bowed slightly in respect. Another part of the hall darkened, to show a ragtag fleet of about sixty ships, hanging in open space. Even before the question was asked, another section of the hall darkened to display a star map. It showed that fleet's route, as a dotted line, from a neighbouring cluster of four star-systems to their current location, some nine and a half light minutes from the Nox lovely planet. Another dotted line followed the first one, a handful of light-days behind. Another section darkened to show a smaller fleet of large star-looking ships.
"They were bad neighbours from start," Councillor Tuphie commented levelly, yet everyone present recognised his dissatisfaction with the current state of things. No one around exhibited any form of disagreement, too.
People kept arriving and for the first time in what was probably a couple of millennia, the control hall had both a full shift crew and many guests on top.
"What are they using for propulsions?" one of the young attendants asked with some interest.
"Thrusters," Lya answered serenely, yet everyone understood just how disgusted she was by this primitive and polluting system.
The attendant kept looking at her patiently and with a thin smile on his face. It clearly conveyed the message that his real question was not answered.
"It's a system which wraps space to create temporary small wormholes, if you like, to bridge small spreads of space," a more experienced attendant explained.
"Like what a few of the Tau'ri do to pop about?" the young attendant asked in surprise. So much surprise, in fact, that his incredulity almost showed.
A few people hummed in agreement, polite enough to disregard his momentary slip in decorum. He was quite young afterall. No one looked too happy about it, as well. Nox should have supposedly been able to 'pop about' like this themselves, but no one has succeeded as of yet. Some nonsense about Three-Ds? They have collectively determined that the Tau'ri had probably been deliberately confusing about it.
"The Alterans once theorised regarding," the conversation returned to the visitor's ridiculous FTL propulsion system, "but it was deemed impractical," an engineer explained. The young attendant pointed in response at the star-map on display, as if to say - 'it works'.
"It's wasteful in power and slow as Broverts in wintertime," the engineer concluded this line of discussion.
"Raptor two is back," stated the DRADIS officer to the smokey CIC room.
"Already?" Saul Tigh asked in surprise.
"Only Raptor two is present," the DRADIS office kept updating.
"Frak!" the XO stated eloquently. "Set condition one throughout the fleet," he ordered, and hurried to ping the Captain. "Order all ships to spool…"
Before those orders could be completed or relayed, the pilot's voice was heard over the comm: "This is Hacker on Raptor two," he called. "DRADIS clear. Planet's viable. Repeat - viable. Boomer requests more Raptors for a thorough survey. Sending Boomer's initial report now."
"Thanks the gods!" someone whispered at the back of CIC.
"Belay readiness order," Col Tigh ordered.
"Boomer reports a healthy atmosphere, lush vegetation, and no signs for inhabitants - current or former," Lt Anastasia Dualla updated.
It was this time exactly that Cmd Adama walked back into CIC. "Send two more Raptors," he instructed.
Col Tigh gave him a doubtful look. "We'll be left thin on Raptors," he remarked softly. Cmd Adama just nodded and Saul Tigh repeated the order to the air group.
"Sir?" Lt Dualla pulled her commanding officer's attention, holding up a handset. "It's the President's office."
Tigh rolled his eyes dramatically at his commanding officer and friend.
"I'll take it in my ready room," Adama instructed Dualla.
"Raptors are launched," an officer at tactical updated them all.
The sound of a soft bird song pulled Lya's attention from her delightful light afternoon tea with her family. They were sitting on the sunny balcony, looking over the lush forest, above which their city was currently hovering. She and Anteaus even indulged themselves with a little wine, to go with the warm afternoon sun.
"What a pleasure!" she greeted Chancellors Opher and Tuphie at her door. "Please come in? The sun is warm and the wine chilled," she added.
"To what do we owe the pleasure?" Anteaus asked with an enigmatic smile, causing Tuphie to lose his for a blink of an eye.
"Thank you for having us," Opher answered with a warm honest smile. "Some blue wine will be lovely."
For a while, they sat together on the balcony, sipping their wine and enjoying the sun and the view. The city's route kept her above this patch of clear sky, for the land to be visible below. It lasted till a sudden change in trajectory brought them up and above a cloudy patch. Nothing to disturb the wine in their glasses, to be sure.
Below them, and right where the city had just been a few moments ago, the reason for this disturbance was visible. The small shuttle was flying over the land and frightening a herd of herbivores.
Lya's calm smile faltered for a moment.
"This wine is truly good," Opher stated warmly, "what is it?" he asked, as the city made to return to its former trajectory above the ground view. Below, that same shuttle turned back, thankfully not forcing the city to move off her route once more. On the surface, the herd tried to run away from the noise once more. On her sunny balcony, Lya looked on in clear disapproval.
"Can we please disable those thrusters of theirs?" she asked Opher.
"It is not our way," Tuphie answers with some noticeable scorn in his tone of voice.
"No one will get hurt?" Anteaus commented with a glint in his eyes.
Councillor Tuphie clearly didn't like this remark, yet before he had the opportunity to reply, Opher intervened. "If we did that, they would have no way off planet," he logically answered the original question. Anteaus and Lya found themselves nodding slightly in agreement. "It brings us to the reason for our visit, though," Opher went on. "The Council would like you to initiate contact with these people."
Lya schooled her face. "Isn't it Councillor Tuphie's turn?" she asked.
"We handled those primitive humans, recently," Anteaus remarked lightly.
"Exactly!" Tuphie agrees almost gleefully. "Lya is now our leading first contact expert."
"Our only expert," Opher added with a fond smile. You led our contact with the Tau'ri and the Tollans. Then met with the more mature Tau'ri, saw Furlings, and even rekindled our relations with the Alterans, few as they are these days."
"You have even visited their planet," Councillor Tuphie went on, putting as much disdain into his voice as he could, behind his decorum and in this polite company. "As polluted, primitive, and decadent as it is."
Lya's face now changed into this wishful expression. "They have this place - 'West End', where you can get something called 'foot massage'," she said. "You don't even know what decadence is!"
For a moment, Tuphie looked interested, but Opher changed the subject. "You are the only Nox, Lya, who had any kind of contact with other races for centuries," he said. "Ever since your great grandmother met with that Goa'uld, what was her name again?"
"Egeria," Anteaus answered helpfully.
"Well, according to mum, great grandmother wasn't a stark example of Nox sanity," Lya replied dryly. "She had to go through the ritual of life forty two times before Egeria got into her thick headless body that 'their way wasn't the only way'."
"Your whole family are our first contact experts, then," Tuphie stated, to receive an expressionless stare from Opher. That stare clearly conveyed the fact that gloating wasn't the Nox way as well.
"Nafrayu started his apprenticeship early, then," Anteaus answered and showed that sarcasm sometimes was.
"We will keep Nafrayu safe and away from our visitors," Opher promised.
"That time with the Tau'ri was a mistake on our part," Tuphie somewhat reluctantly agreed.
On the balcony, a part of the view darkened to show that three of the shuttles had now landed, not far from the herd, which was back grazing along the forest edge.
"We did disable all their weapons," Councillor Tuphie promised.
"Thank you Councillor," Opher told Lya, clearly imparting the fact that refusal was not truly an option.
When their door closed behind their visitor's backs, Lya looked at her partner with some exasperation.
"Let us take the shuttle?" he offered helpfully.
"They are right there?!" a Cylon model One called in exasperation, pointing at the screen. "One small jump and we're on them."
His other brothers and sisters just stared at the two of them impassively.
"We do have an overwhelming advantage," A Four model Cylon half-heartedly agreed.
"We're bringing the word of 'God' to the people. It follows that we should employ any means necessary to do so. Any means!" the other One insisted. "We should get as many of them as close to God as we can," the first One stressed.
"Since when are you the religious one?" A Two model asked dryly, without specifying which one of the One-models present he was talking to. Probably didn't care much.
"We're getting away from our colony and supplies," a Three stated what everyone already was acutely aware of. "Already we needed to leave a resurrection ship behind, to bridge the distance to the Hub and act as a communication relay for our local resurrection ship. We had to expand three Basestars from our fleet to guard it," she added, since there was only one of her present.
"Space is large and empty. This is uncharted territory even for us. In a couple of battles, we'll be forced to return to the colony to rearm and resupply. We might not be able to find the colonial fleet once more," the Two remarked levelly. He too, was anxious to finish up with this human nonsense as soon as possible.
"My point exactly!" stressed the first One, Cavil.
"We've been through this too many times before," argued the Three. "The Colonial fleet is in constant state of alert. We jump in on them, spend fuel and lots of ordnance. They meet us, shoot down some of our Raiders, then jump away at the last moment, and it was all for naught."
"My sisters and I vote to wait a little longer for them to be more invested in this planet. Maybe even moving their fleet to orbit. Then, when we attack, they will have people on the ground and won't be able to leave in haste," Stated Natalie the Six.
"Do we have a consensus?" asked one of the many Eights.
"One degree angle port; Older than gods; Spooling core; Mark 14 by 234 by 19 D1532; Pollution; Mists of dreams dribble on the nascent echo and love no more; False gods," the Hybrid incanted.
Cavil left with a huff.
At the same time, President Roslin, her aide Billy, and Priestess Elosha, were sitting in Adama's office aboard the Galactica, together with Col Tigh and Cdr Adama himself. They were going over the information streaming to them from the planet.
The wall display was showing constant live feed from the Raptors scanning the land. Nine to ten minutes old 'live', that is.
"Lovely…" Elosha said, absent-mindedly, watching the large herd of beasts grazing on the lush plains.
"Drizzly," Billy commented, as the images changed from one Raptor view to another - all overcast and grey.
"I'll take drizzly gladly these days," the President offered, right when the feed changed to show a natural orchard of fruit laden trees.
"I think we should seriously consider a permanent settlement on this planet," Saul Tigh offered.
Adama sighed heavily. "We are still being followed by the Cylons," he answered needlessly.
"There was no sign of them for more than a month now," Billy said, a bit wishfully.
"Probably on purpose," Tigh agreed gruffly.
"Humanity won't survive, unless we can establish ourselves on a planet," the President argued, and no one truly disagreed, but,
"Once we do, we can't protect the planet from attacks, and we won't be in a position to flee any more," Adama had to be the realistic one.
"There are grains and wildlife here to resupply, at the least," Col Tigh offered, trying to be positive for a moment. "The fleet's certainly in need of more supplies, nevermind some fresh food for once."
There was a long lull in the conversation, while they all watched a herd of wild animals being frightened away, probably by the noise of the filming Raptor.
"We can't keep doing this forever," President Roslin murmured after a while. Both Tigh and Adama shrugged their shoulders helplessly.
"What do we need to hold to this planet?" the President asked the officers.
"Ten to fifteen fully equipped, fully manned Battlestars," was the unhelpful answer.
"Not until we locate Earth," Elosha concurred, encouragingly.
"Can this planet be Earth?" Billy asked with a healthy dose of hopefulness in his tone of voice.
Tigh and Adama shrugged once more.
"If it is," Tigh finally answered, "there is no sign of the thirteenth tribe around."
"I'm gonna go get myself some fresh dinner," Karl stated and picked up a gun. "Can you prepare a fire?" he added.
"Take Johns with you and don't go far!" Boomer ordered and Karl saluted dismissively in response. It earned him a frown.
"Look there!" Johns whispered loudly as soon as they were above the small ridge, hiding their Raptor. Boomer could see him pointing at something in the direction of the forest. "We can almost shoot it from here!"
"Let's get closer," Helo offered. I don't want to miss and drive the whole herd away."
Boomer started preparing the fire. The first fresh meal in months was on its way and she was already conceptually salivating at the thought of freshly hunted meat, prepared over open fire. She was also amusing herself with the thought about her friend's faces, back on the Galactica, when back to tell them about it.
In details. And with ambient noises!
It was only later, when the fire was already burning merrily in the pit, and Boomer was lounging on the lush grass pondering the fermentation of some of the abundance of grains around into proper beer, that she noticed that the promised fresh meal had yet to return from their short hunting sortie.
"Helo?" she asked lazily into the comm. She then jumped to her feet in alarm when only static noise and a few broken words were heard in return. She didn't need to go far, though. Right as she reached the head of the small ridge, Karl and Johns were seen, treading heavily back through the tall grass. Sadly no game was in sight.
"Worst luck we had since the nuking of the colonies," Johns replied without even having been asked first.
"Every time we tried to close in on an animal, it hid behind something, or went into a hole in the ground. Once we got there, it wasn't there any more," Helo complained tiredly.
"By the gods," Johns concurred, "It felt like witchcraft!"
"And then," Karl went on telling, " when we finally had one game cornered, my gun misfired," he shrugged helplessly. "By the time I've replaced the clip and re-cocked the gun, it has already run away."
"Worst luck ever," Johns concluded.
"You'll have to make do with a field ration as a punishment," Johns' pilot commented. He then grimaced and took one out for himself too.
"We have some fresh fruits at the least," Boomer agreed. That salivating story about fresh meat, cooked over open fire, under the starry sky, will have to be postponed sadly.
For a while, they set around the campfire, picking at their rations and looking at the world darkening around them. No one was in a hurry to return to the fleet yet.
"Something is interfering with communications here," Johns added absent-mindedly, a while later still. He was surprised to see both pilots looking at him dejectedly.
Without even being prompted, Helo got up and went back into the Raptor. "Galactica, this is Helo," His voice was heard, yet no response came back.
"Galactica, this is Helo on Raptor 1, please come in?" he repeated his call, still with no response.
By this time, Boomer was already at the hatch. "Try the Raptor on watch in orbit?" she offered.
"Raptor 5, this is Helo, come in please?" Karl reluctantly called, dreading a no response now. Yet a response did come back, broken and distorted. The only word they could make up from it was 'worried'. Probably…
"Guys!" Boomer called to the other Raptor's crew. "We need to return. Right now!"
Soon enough, the three Raptors lifted up and shot into space in an effort to renew their contact with the fleet. They left behind their garbage and a merrily burning pit of fire. They did collect any tin made garbage - the workshop can turn these into bullets, after all.
"Something causes the power distribution grid to misalign," Boomer mumbled to herself, as the thrusters hitched here and there, making her Raptor shudder in its ascent from the surface.
"Must be this radiation we can't measure," Karl answered.
Down on the planet, two people appeared, where the Raptor crews made camp just a few moments ago. Soon enough, a third person joined them.
With an expression of clear disappointment, Anteaus held his hand out above the fire. A clear bubble of sorts soon enclosed the pit to gradually snuff the fire out.
"Look at all this rubbish they left behind," Lya told the others softly.
It brought that glint back into Opher's eyes, shining through his Nox serenity. "Rubbish?" he asked.
Lya rolled her eyes minutely, She now had an ever-so-slight look of embarrassment about her. "It's what the Tau'ri of London call it," she answered. "They have so much of it, they might be experts," she added in a levelled indifferent tone.
"Dirty and decadent, yet you're looking out for excuses to visit once more?" Anteaus teased his partner light-heartedly. Lya's only reaction was the slight greening of her skin.
"Operations were running around all day trying to help hide the animals," Opher sighed, and showed a bit of the tiredness he was feeling. "We haven't had a full crew on shift since before I was born."
"They'll be back tomorrow," Anteaus commented softly.
"I will speak with them then," Lya promised calmly.
"Try to," Anteaus added, with clear optimism.
"We have no choice but to move the fleet," Adama stated reluctantly.
A viable planet with food and other resources wasn't something they could allow to pass by. It was just as clear that they didn't have enough Raptors aboard the Galactica to both handle surface transportation and keep picket guard far enough from the planet to be effective.
"We could use the Cybele and maybe one of the other freighters to ferry people to the planet and supplies back to the fleet," Tigh offered reluctantly. The unsaid fact was that committing the fleet to a planet was limiting their ability to split in the face of danger. Ever since the destruction of the colonies, this ability was their one and only robust defensive strategy. Still, some risks were sometimes unavoidable. Very few others were worth the risk.
"This will free our Raptors for picket duty," Captain Lee 'Apollo' Adama was clearly relieved.
As Air Group Commander of the fleet, Lee was under huge pressure to maintain both the early warning routine alert and conduct the survey effort over the unknown planet. Especially since both those missions depended on his very limited number of Raptors available. Also, since the fleet was stationary at the moment, it was also more predictable and therefore - vulnerable. The fact that three of his Raptors, including his most experienced and best crew, decided to take an unscheduled and certainly unauthorised afternoon vacation on the planet's surface and out of communication range - didn't help at all.
"I would like to use the Celestra and her long range sensors to augment our periphery, while we're here," Lee added. This exercise in control over a split fleet is about to be very testing for his limited resources. Not that the fleet's day-to-day routine wasn't.
This made Dr Gaius Baltar cough lightly.
"A cup of tea, Gaius?" the President asked lightly. She certainly managed to make him look embarrassed at that.
Dr Baltar shook himself out of whatever occupied his mind. "I don't know, right?" he told the air beside him, to earn a raised eyebrow from President Roslin. "Err," Baltar turned back to his company, "I want to use the Celestra's sensors to get better scans of the planet. This unknown radiation bothers me," he argued.
"You will learn to share," Col Tigh answered, but it was unclear just who was being told off. It was clear that someone was.
This strange radiation, be that as it may, was a real worry. Already they were experiencing communication problems. Logs also showed that Boomer's Raptor misfired a couple of times while lifting off from their unscheduled vacation. Chief Tyrol in Engineering couldn't explain it either.
"I hope we can find some Tylium to mine on this planet, or somewhere in the system, Cmd Adama commented. These small jumps were wasteful in resources. Normally, the fleet did its best to optimise the use of their FTL engines. The power needed for folding the universe and punching a hole to pass through was almost identical, whether the fold was large or small. Red lines were not defined by power limits, but by the ship computer's ability to calculate all the gravitational parameters relevant for such a fold. Also the accuracy of the star maps those calculations were based on. Longer than twenty light-years or about, and the folds became almost blind. However, the short, light-minutes jumps they were now planning, consumed just as much energy as a hypothetical jump, long over the red line.
"Another task for the Celestra and our few Raptors," Lee Adama sighed.
For a moment, it looked like Dr Baltar was about to argue, but soon enough he went back to his introverted ways and was deep in thoughts, staring at an empty spot right beside him.
Meanwhile, President Roslin was watching the image of the planet thoughtfully too. "Can we find a way for the people to visit the planet? Get a breath of fresh air?" she asked.
Her aid now looked almost giddy with hope.
All the military, though, looked distinctly uncomfortable.
It was Captain Lee Adama, who finally answered her question with a rueful smile. "If we did that," he asked in return, "Would you be able to convince the people to return to the ships?"
Laura just shook her head helplessly.
Minutes later, new coordinates were distributed and one by one ships jumped to just over Gaia's orbit.
Huge shout to flyboy38, my beta, who took the time to make sure this story is a much better read.