Chapter 6

Location: Ragnar Anchorage

Date: December 2, 2021

Time: 1800 Lima

When SG-1 came out of hyperspace to rendezvous with the Hammond they were perplexed to see a Colonial Battlestar diving into an opening in the blue gas giant. But what was even more surprising was the fact the Hammond subspace transponder was broadcasting from inside the gas giant as well.

"Cam punch it, looks like the Hammond's been spotted," Carter said as they scanned the situation from afar.

"I can see that…" Mitchell growled as he punched it right towards the nebula where the massive Colonial ship was plowing full speed straight towards the Hammond as it launched several hundred of their dart like fighters while a half dozen smaller cruisers and frigates were descending towards the area.

"Hammond this is Colonel Carter do you read me?" Carter called over the encrypted radio frequency that they'd told the Hammond to tune into.

"Colonel Carter this is the Hammond we read you," came the stressed and static filled reply. It must be the atmosphere, Carter thought as she tuned in again.

"What's the situation?"

"We've been found out, a Colonial Battlestar has launched several hundred, I say again several hundred, fighters and has activated its main batteries and we're detecting hot nukes in her launch silos. She's trying to block the entrance to the way with her sheer size," came the sketchy reply.

"I see that, have you been fired upon?" Carter called.

"Negative, she's slowing, but her fighters forming a very thick screen in front of us. Hold on, she's hailing us."

Battlestar Pegasus CIC

"Attention unknown vessel, this is the Colonial Battlestar Pegasus, identify yourself, over," Admiral Cain called out over the general broadband so that every Colonial warship nearby would be able to hear it.

A moment of silence held on for several seconds as the bridge of the Pegasus collectively held its breath waiting for a response. The ship's alert Vipers had scrambled and were in a three-layer thick formation covering the entire run to Ragnar Station with heavily armed Raptors dispersed among the nimbler Viper Mk. VII's. The unknown vessel had valiantly, if not foolishly in Cain's mind, had taken up position right in front of them and was staring down a ship more than five times her own size.

"Attention Colonial Battlestar," came the long-awaited reply, "This is the Earth Defense Ship General George Hammond answering your hail, over."

"This is the Earthers' ship?" Belzen gawked, amazed at the odds of them being the one to find it.

"So it would seem," Cain replied, then turned her attention back to the Earth ship, "Earth Defense Ship George Hammond, be advised, you are in a restricted military zone, please leave this area immediately."

"Very well Pegasus, we don't want a fight, but we will defend ourselves if fired upon," came the reply from the Hammond.

"Be advised Hammond, any hostile act will result in retaliatory action," Cain hissed, her own anger beginning to boil.

There was a pause that Cain absolutely regretted the instant she said it, I just threatened an Earth warship, the Thirteenth Tribe for frak's sakes.

"Good luck with that," came an amused voice over the radio that the Pegasus CIC was totally unprepared for, "Now we're not going to try anything we have no wish to start a fight, we'll follow you out."

"'Good luck with that'?" came a scoff from Captain Fisk, who took genuine offense, "she's barely the size of a frigate! She'd be mincemeat in seconds. What in the Hell is with them?"

Cain shot a dangerous look at the older man who clamped his mouth shut immediately and then returned to his job.

"Understood, helm bring us about, but have our Vipers keep in close proximity to the Earth ship if it tries anything funny."

"Unknown bogey, just came in, did anyone get a look at it?" came a sudden call from one of the Vipers.

"Negative negative, no eyes," another pilot replied.

"What do you see people talk to me!" Fisk immediately ordered after several more pilots began chattering as a strange contact broke through the clouds right towards the Hammond.

"No idea sir, but it just entered the Earth ship's starboard hanger."

"How'd that thing make it through the atmosphere, that sort of entry at that speed would rip a Viper apart!" Colonel Belzen asked in amazement.

"Well these Earthers have a few tricks up their sleeves."

USS General George Hammond

"Ma'am, good to see you're alright," Major Harrison greeted his commanding officer thankfully as Colonels Carter and Mitchel, followed by Daniel, Teal'c, and Vala, walked onto the bridge.

"Good to be back, what's our status?" she replied taking her seat.

"Well the Pegasus just turned and is slowly pulling out to let us through. Most of her fighters are taking up escort positions on all angles. And it seems that the Pegasus invited some friends, we picked up jump signals from additional Colonial ships in the area closing in fast."

"They sure have a lot of ships, don't they?" Mitchell groaned looking at the sensor feed that showed three ships designated as Battlestars with a half dozen escorts each closing in tight formation to the Pegasus and its formation.

"Yes, they do."

Stargate Command, Earth

"Sir we've got an incoming call from the Hammond over subspace channel," an aide reported to General Landry as he was busy looking over a report from SG-12, who'd just finished exploring a planet that the SGC was looking to set up a large permanent base on. In fact the gentlemen at the IOA were pushing for it to become a shipbuilding hub because of the fact most of the smaller nations didn't have the space available to produce their own ships and voiced complaints of the other larger nations monopolizing the shipyards needed to produce Battlecruisers, Battleships, and the recently approved Carriers which would head fleet units.

"Patch it through to me," Landry ordered, pushing a button on his desk that brought up a thin glass screen from a slot at the end of his desk.

The large screen blinked a few times before the face of Colonel Carter showed up on it, with the words 'USS General George Hammond' right beneath her face to show what ship the call was coming from. It was the latest and greatest means of communicating with far away ships and outposts without the need for a Stargate and Landry was glad for the innovation.

"Ah Colonel Carter, how goes the first contact with the Colonials?"

"Well sir it's a little tense but things are progressing quite nicely, the Colonials are genuinely suspicious we're a rogue branch of their own people but seem willing to entertain the idea of us being who we say we are."

Then the face of Dr. Jackson showed up, "But there is definitely a religious motivation in the civilian delegation that we met with. But their military forces are keeping to a written protocol which hasn't shown the slightest hint of being influenced by religion."

"In fact they're reminding me a lot of us, they walk the walk and they talk the talk," Mitchell summarized, "Solid professionals is the best description for the Colonials we've dealt with thus far."

"Yeah, pretty much," Daniel nodded.

"I take it that's a good thing?" Landry responded.

"Sort of, but their protocol seems to have been written by someone with real paranoia, they've already taken Kelsey in for debriefing and quarantine from what we saw. And they've already found where we hid the Hammond and have taken serious measures to keep us out of their public's eye. We're surrounded by nine of their Battlestars, which are four to seven times our size, along with more than fifty escorts that have taken up position in a cordon around the Hammond," Carter reported, "They've also quarantined the Galactica, the Battlestar we had first contact with."

"She's also failed to mention their biggest ship," Mitchell now spoke up, "General they've got a ship out here that's the biggest human ship we've seen in this galaxy, it's twenty-five hundred meters long and probably out-masses our whole fleet combined."

"Needless to say, sir, General O'Neill's concept for the Enterprise is looking better and better the longer we're here."

"I knew it!" a happy voice cried out from Landry's door.

"Jack, you gotta stop doing that, you'll give me a heart attack," Landry breathed, a hand to his chest.

"Sorry 'bout that. How's it going Carter?" O'Neill chirped as he sat down in a chair across from Landry.

"Not bad sir, just reporting in," Carter smiled as she responded to her old CO.

"And Daniel, how goes the negotiations with the religious nutjobs?"

"Jack they're not nutjobs, and the negotiations are going fairly well actually. They seem genuinely interested in meeting us instead of converting us."

"That's always a plus…" O'Neill grinned, still seeing himself at the helm of the Enterprise, "And their ships…I assume they are large and advanced?"

"Large no, they're huge…" Mitchell corrected.

"Advanced, not so much…" Carter replied, "At least what we've gathered thus far."

"Is there anything you need Colonel, just say the word and…poof, you have it."

Carter visibly grinned as she shook her head and then looked back at the camera, "Actually sir we could use some help. I think we need to bring Woolsey in on this along with a diplomatic team. We're dealing with some hardline pros. And well, Mitchell about tore the head off of one of them."

O'Neill cocked his head slightly, "Colonel?"

"He accused us of murder! I'm not letting him get away with that."

"And a much bigger ship please, whenever I look out a window at these floating goliaths, I feel…puny," Vala whined off screen.

"Yes sir, having a Battleship with a few additional Battlecruisers would be reassuring, they feel the incessant need to surround us because in their words: 'Our ship is vulnerable,' and so we could use the help. The Colonials are very much approaching negotiations from a position of strength with the application of their first contact protocol, I think it's part of their negotiation strategy. We need to respond in kind in order to prevent any undue misunderstandings or misassumptions on their part."

"The Alaska Battlegroup is fully equipped at the moment, we just need to get a team together and they can be there in a couple hours," Landry said definitively.

"Send 'em," O'Neill ordered, his voice betraying how stern he was about the whole situation underneath the smile and laughter that made him O'Neill.

"Thank you, sir, we'll be waiting."

Just like that the call was ended and the two generals leaned back to take in what they'd heard for themselves. O'Neill never really wanted to have any of his people in a situation like this, surrounded by a large fleet of large ships commanded by people who felt like they could run roughshod on them. And with what he'd heard from Carter these Colonials were more than likely emboldened by the fact they knew their ships were much larger and more numerous than the single Battlecruiser. But the thing was, that lonely little ship probably had the ability to rip the Colonials to shreds if necessary, its Plasma Beams were absolutely invincible, only a Wraith Hive Ship doped up on power from a ZPM had held up against the sheer destructive might of the Asgard weaponry. And its shields could take the most punishment of any ship in the galaxy, so a bunch of heavy rail guns wouldn't even phase the ship if they could hit the dogfighting speed of the Hammond or any Earth ship at all! But the Colonials didn't know any of that. To them they were guarding a feather weight from roving pirates and medium sized asteroids. So it was clear that a passive show of force would have to be summoned to make the Colonials back off a little before something nasty happened because of the Colonials thinking of the Hammond as something they can push around.

"Well Jack, what do you think? These Colonials seem to have some real big ships and a lot of them. I hate to say it but looks like your flagship idea might just come to fruition," Landry grumbled.

"To tell you the truth I could have built it anyway, with or without the go ahead from Carter. I am the Head of Homeworld Defense after all," O'Neill said smugly, "But now I can have it built with her blessing, which helps a whole lot in selling it to the IOA for funding. Because…you know, Carter, she has to have her pretty little nose buried into anything cool and exciting. And you know she'll throw her own weight behind this project."

"Speaking of new ships, a new design came through for an upgrade to the F-302 for its future Block III package. The joint branches think tank, remember?"

"Really? You mean that same think tank that's been dealing with how to operate the fleet?"

"The same one."

"Who knew that a think tank could be productive huh?"

"Jack..."

"Sorry."

"They figured that with the new control crystal tech we already automate most the 302's subsystems, right? So they decided to lump in a few other small upgrades, but its two things that the Navy guy really vouched for that's got Area 51 in a tizzy trying to make it happen, folding wings and vertical takeoff capability for operations emanating from the SGC. Apparently they think they have a working prototype of the same tech Death Gliders use to hover."

"That…could have promise, so long as the boys at Area 51 can make it happen. Hopefully the X-307 can get approved for further development by the IOA with this added onto the pitch meeting."

"We'll see what they do, but they might require us to let them have a shipyard for them to build their own civilian ships."

"If the IOA okays our new ships for funding I'll build them a shipyard, and maybe a nice fruit basket. After all, there's not a clear and present doomsday threat anymore, except the IOA…"

"True, seems like the IOA's more of an annoyance than anyone else in the galaxy."

"Well when they've got dozens of different projects that need assistance that we can't give them they tend to be a little pushy," Landry chuckled.

"How come you know this, and I don't?" O'Neill replied skeptically.

"I actually read the reports Jack, not just put them in a big stack."

Unknown Location, Cylon Space

The rhythmic click of a pair of high heels echoed through the hall of the lone Cylon Basestar hiding out near the border of Colonial Space. The platinum blonde hair of the Cylon Number Six walking quite quickly bounced around as Centurions eyed her carefully, their swinging red eyes examining her for any possible threats that might be concealed on her person. But they resumed their duties of idly standing in the hall, awaiting orders as she passed.

The mind of the lone Cylon woman was racing, something had happened, something totally unforeseen. She had to alert the others to this intriguing and dangerous possibility. The doors to the basestar's bridge and CIC opened quickly and cleanly revealing the whole of the human form Cylons in command on the bridge. Every one of the eight models except the Number Seven model were present. She pondered why the Sevens weren't represented here, in fact the Sevens were never present for anything. None of the Sixes even remembered what they looked like, but whenever the subject of the absent Sevens was brought up Cavil, and the other Ones, would state every single Seven was under cover among the Colonials or out exploring and was very shy and hard working with no interest of being involved in the politics of the Cylon hierarchy. And they'd just leave it at that.

But this was important, and this Six needed to tell the others, the fate of their long-awaited vengeance depended on it.

"Why have you called us here Six?" one of the Threes asked.

"Yes, and do be quick, I have some pressing work to complete," a Two put out.

"It seems there's been a development in the Colonies," she paused to make sure the entire group was paying attention, "The Thirteenth Colony has returned."

"Impossible, the Thirteenth destroyed themselves thousands of years ago, the Final Five told us so!" a One scoffed in disbelief, outright dismissing the notion.

"Apparently not all of them. Six hours ago, one of our listening posts detected a spike in Colonial fleet movements centered around the Command Battlestar Triton and the whole of seven Battlestar Groups. These ships rendezvoused with the Battlestar Galactica and then after several more Colonial ships spread out again they converged here, at Ragnar Anchorage. It was here we detected another ship, not a Colonial ship, but of a completely different type and model than any we've seen before."

"So? It is no secret the Colonial Intelligence branch operates quite a few one-off special-purpose vessels," a Four piped up.

"Yes, but a diplomatic team comprised of representatives of all twelve Colonies isn't sent to these ships. And they then don't go and quarantine an entire Battlestar and move a detachment of their best interrogators from Aquarius to debrief a rookie Lieutenant, who was listed as MIA for almost two months."

"What is her name?"

"Lieutenant Kelsey Adama, of the Battlestar Galactica" the Number Two said.

"Adama? One of those pilots that went missing a while back?" the Three recollected, remembering the search and rescue missions that the Colonials conducted all along the border, accidentally intruding a couple of times in the process, getting the attention of the Cylons who looked into the matter and searched around for the missing Raptor themselves, but to no results.

This gained the attention of every Cylon in the room, except the Centurions, they couldn't comprehend what was happening anyway.

"Well, it seems we're in the need of more information…" the Five mumbled.

"Do we have anyone on site?" asked a Two.

"Yes, we have a Four posing as an Intelligence Colonel aboard the Triton. We also have a Five implanted among the marines on board as well. He has access to her."

"I vote that we contact him and have him abduct her and bring her here," a One spoke up, "All in agreement?"

"Wait! What are you thinking? Surely the Colonials will be able to track the Raptor he'll use to escape," a Six piped up.

"Ragnar Anchorage is within jump range of the border, we can easily jam any automated transmission the Raptor can make. We've tested it before, I'm one hundred percent certain that once she's in Cylon space she'll never be found," that same One responded.

"Very well, I second the motion," a Number Four raised his hand.

"I as well," the Five said.

After those two came the deciding vote, a number raised their hand and reached a majority, despite the no votes of the Sixes, the Threes, and the Eights. Lieutenant Kelsey Adama was now a Cylon target. This single vote would have repercussions of great significance, but the Cylons themselves didn't realize it yet. But they were about to.

Command Battlestar Triton, Isolation Room

Lieutenant Kelsey Adama had obeyed her orders to the letter since arriving aboard the Triton under the protection/custody of a squad of HAZOP suited Intelligence soldiers. They'd first put her through an hour of medical scans, tests, and whatnot to be sure she didn't contract anything that would be able to spread to the other members of the crew. The medical personnel, with the approval of the HAZOP officer in charge gave the green light after their hours of work and some medical reports, which included a complete and thorough physical.

Now she was locked away in a rubber encased room with a pair of folding chairs, a makeshift cot, and a table. It felt more like a prison cell than a debriefing room. A one-way mirror was in front of her as she sat in the chair very uncomfortable with the knowledge a lot of cameras and eyes were watching her every movement. So, when the door finally opened and a single man wearing the black uniform of an Intelligence officer walked she was grateful the passive watching was over.

"Colonel sir," she snapped off, standing up with a crisp salute at the Colonel who had walked in. He was a well-manicured man with dark skin but a very friendly expression. Well, for a spook.

The officer chuckled and returned the salute gently, "At ease Lieutenant, it's quite alright. You can skip the formalities with me."

"Thank you, sir."

"Please, be seated Lieutenant Adama. Now…on to business…we'll have this taping the interview for the record, and I'll do my best to make this as quick and painless as possible, sound good?" the Colonel smiled, getting an affirmative response from Kelsey as he placed a recording device on the table and switched it on, "I'm Colonel Pyre, Fleet Intelligence, I'll be conducting your debriefing. Please state your name and rank for the record."

"Uh…Lieutenant Kelsey Adama," she said nervously.

"Thank you, it's quite alright Lieutenant, relax, you're not in any sort of trouble or danger. Except for the doctors and their needles, yeesh. Now, please tell me what happened in your own words."

"Well, about two months ago I was assigned by Galactica's CAG to take my Raptor to Caprica to pick up some Cylon War veterans who served aboard the Galactica for a goodwill mission of some sort. I mean those guys are about to see their ship become a museum," she hesitated seeing the eyes of the man staring at her, "Sorry. Anyway, my ECO and I took off, no problems, we were cleared for FTL, and my ECO spun us up and plugged in the coordinates. But…when I triggered the FTL, nothing happened. After a moment Eyeball said…we were having a failure in our power buffer system and was about to overload. I tried to abort the jump but nothing happened. My ECO tried to conduct an emergency abort on his console, but this failed, and then he tried to pull the navigation computer manually before an explosion erupted from the back of the bird."

"An explosion?"

"Yes sir, the…explosion…killed him instantly. I went to check on him but there was nothing I could do, then another explosion from the Raptor's circuit breakers erupted and I took some shrapnel in my left leg. I then tried to get the fire extinguisher, but it wasn't working as well as I had hoped it would and as I fought the fire the FTL drive activated. I could tell the Raptor had jumped into atmosphere as the ship was rocking and vibrating very violently. Oh, the FTL flash was brighter than any I've seen before and the feeling of it...was different. Normally an FTL jump is pretty unpleasant, but this...it felt like I'd been through a blizzard without a coat while seasick," Kelsey tried to relate the feeling.

"Interesting," the intelligence officer nodded, taking this in with great attentiveness.

"Well, I was blinded for a few seconds so I didn't visually confirm that for a moment while I buckled into my seat to try and regain control. Several more explosions sent shrapnel into my hands and my shoulder, and I really began losing blood as the Raptor plummeted into the atmosphere of what I thought was Caprica. I had no control so I ejected. I was about to pass out when I managed to pull the chord on my chute. Then…I blacked out after I confirmed I was under canvas. I can't even remember hitting the ground."

"What do you remember happening next Lieutenant Adama?"

"I…woke up in a hospital bed, at first I thought I was in a military hospital, but when I woke up an armed guard in full combat gear a lot like what marines or Army use was standing there. But the uniform was different, his weapon was different than any other Colonial service rifle I've ever seen, the patches on his arms were different and there were books and pictures cut in a perfect rectangle, no corner-cutting like we do."

"So you were under armed guard?"

"Yes sir, he called out for a Doctor, and a woman wearing a lab coat over a uniform walked over with another guard and she basically did what any other doctor would do. Asked how I was feeling, checked some bandages on my leg and shoulder, and tried to engage in small talk. Y'know, fairly normal stuff."

"And what happened then Lieutenant?" Colonel Pyre said encouragingly, basically saying the same question over and over by this point.

"Well, I asked where I was, and it was her answer that got me realizing I wasn't under the care of Colonial military personnel. She responded that I at a base on a planet she named with a weird sequence of letters and numbers. Then I began thinking that I was captured by the Cylons and that my mind was being probed or something like that. Apparently, the guards interpreted my actions as hostile and then actually aimed their weapons at me. That's when I saw the patch on their shoulders."

"And what was on the patch?"

"The symbol of Earth, it matched exactly from what was discovered on Gemenon several weeks before I went on the mission. I remembered because I read an article about it before I left while waiting for my physical in the med bay. But there was no mistaking it, so I asked to speak with their leaders. And they obliged, and so they sent me through a device they called a Stargate and I don't know how, but I was just there. It's difficult to explain sir but they say it is a wormhole that allows them to travel between worlds and even galaxies within a seconds! And what was weird...the feeling of going through the Stargate was just like the feeling the FTL gave me, the one that sent me on my wayward jump."

Kelsey looked to the Intelligence Officer who wasn't looking at her the same way he was earlier, the calculating stare was now replaced by something akin to a blank expression, as if his mind were in a faraway place. But the oddest thing was she could have sworn his eyes blinked red, not even a split second but she couldn't be certain. However, his next action is what really weirded her out.

"Excuse me Lieutenant," he said, getting up after a second and took the recording with him and reached his hand to his ear where an earpiece was, so she paid it no real mind, thinking he'd just gotten a call.

"That was weird," she mumbled to herself as he leaned out of the door.

"Lieutenant, come with me, I just got word from Command, and you're coming with me to Picon Fleet Headquarters."

"Yes sir, will my CO know that I'll be leaving?"

"He will," the Colonel replied, "Come on, a Raptor's being prepped. Oh, I hope you don't mind Raptors, considering your last experience with one."

"No sir, I'd love to be in the cockpit again," she obediently replied, thankful she wasn't going to be treated like a dangerous and fragile piece of pottery at least.

"Sorry lieutenant, you're not cleared for flight status, not yet. Still, you'll be in a Raptor again, if you'll follow me."

Kelsey pouted a bit as she grabbed her bag that had some extra clothes tucked neatly inside just in case she stayed for a long time. But something nagging at her said this was not going to be a short stay. However the lingering doubts were shoved aside, and were replaced by a fervent adherence to her duty. Colonial Command needed to know this stuff, perhaps they knew some of it already and weren't all that keen to have hear say it in an unsecured location? Many thoughts ran through her mind as she finally made it to the starboard flight deck of the Triton.

"There, hop in Lieutenant," Colonel Pyre pointed at a Raptor that was being brought to the hatch to be lifted off into the vacuum of space.

She was pushed forward hurriedly by the nervous spook who was now doing some things that made Kelsey very much uneasy. There were several marines that looked at her strangely. Some put their hands to their headsets trying to gain information on whether Kelsey was supposed to be there. But one Marine casually walked over near the control panel that controlled one of the airlocks and elevators that allowed Raptors to be launched and all craft to be recovered.

"Get in," the Colonel ordered, now being very forceful as she started up the wing into the Raptor's cockpit. But then a loud yell from behind her made Kelsey stop.

"Colonel!" it was the Deck Chief of the Triton, "What do you think you're doing with my bird?"

"We're taking it to Picon, Command wants to debrief the Lieutenant. Stand aside," Colonel Pyre said with a relaxed wave.

"Then why haven't I been told?" the Chief asked suspiciously, mostly unhappy that one of his Raptors was being commandeered.

"That's classified," Pyre calmly stated as he made his way nearly inside the empty cockpit where Kelsey was now looking inside, and realized the pilots weren't inside, but instead were walking over, funny looks on their faces, as if they didn't expect them here at all.

"Classified my ass, all outgoing missions are through the CAG and me, and you weren't on the list, sir."

"I don't answer to the CAG, now get this craft moving so I can leave, that is an order!"

At first the Chief hesitated, but then stood his ground. Pyre looked down, examining the position of the Raptor and saw it was on a lift that moved straight up into the ceiling and would let the single Raptor be launched with the push of a button by the walls. There was wall behind him and on the sides, so he now took his chance.

"Do not close that door!" the Chief ordered, making one of his knuckle draggers back away from the control panel obediently and the pilots, being junior lieutenants, trusted the senior NCO and went along with the man's spoken refusal.

"Well then Chief…" and with one smooth Pyre pulled out his weapon.

A single pistol shot slammed into the body of the big Chief with enough force to send him straight to the floor. Blood sprayed up and the tattered hole of his uniform started seeping blood from beneath the body. The two pilots likewise were shot, Pyre's reflexes outpacing theirs as they tried drawing their pistols, but their flight suits were ripped open by the one center-mass shot each. Kelsey saw this, and attempted to attack Pyre from behind before the weapon could be turned on her. However when she grabbed his shoulder and reeled a fist back his other hand used the pistol grip to whip her across the face, viciously dropping her onto the deck of the Raptor's interior. Dazed by the blow Kelsey saw Pyre enter the Raptor and shut the hatch behind him, firing at several other crewmen nearby as he did so.

"I need you alive Lieutenant, so don't make this more difficult," he spoke with an even drag as he locked the door. Several marines began firing at the Raptor but their rounds did nothing to dissuade the Cylon, now safely locked in with his prisoner.

As he did that the doors started closing and the undercover Number Five let loose with his submachine gun, downloaded marine instincts kicking in as he mowed down a half dozen technicians and pilots near the control panel and slapped the red button that started the process for the Raptor to be sent up the elevator where it would launch. But the marines aboard the Triton reacted quickly and bullets started pounding the Raptor he had taken shelter behind.

But he coolly reloaded a fresh magazine and returned fire, killing a lone marine who was rushing down the catwalk to get on his flank. The man went down silently, and dropped like a bag of potatoes. Several more marines were charging down the open center of the deck and poured fire into the armed, and fueled, Viper Mk VII. The Cylon agent fired a burst that brought down another pair of unfortunate marines. But before he could do more damage a single burst of fire from behind him hit home. Three full metal jacket rounds cut clean through the back of his vest and exited through his chest. He collapsed to the ground and only managed a pained cough of blood before shrugging his shoulders and resigned himself to the fact he'd only managed to take a few Colonials with him instead of the whole Battlestar like he wanted to. The last thing he saw was a solid wall of Marines surrounding him before he was sent off to be reborn in the nearest Resurrection Ship.

"What the frak are you doing?!" Kelsey managed to stammer as Pyre calmly forced her down into the pilot seat.

"Fly us out of here, now," Pyre ordered calmly, ignoring the demand from the terrified young Colonial.

"Frak you!" Kelsey refused the directions from her captor.

"Fine Lieutenant, we can do this another way," he said, pulling her out of the pilot's chair forcefully by her hair, causing her to let out an involuntary pained scream.

He shoved her down onto the floor and wrenched her hands behind her back. Kelsey struggled at first but then stopped when she felt the gun against her back. It didn't take long for Pyre to tie industrial strength zip ties around her wrists and tighten them to the point of pain. He got up off of her and then calmly sat down at the ECO station and then started plugging in coordinates for a jump.

"What are you doing you can't jump on the hanger deck!" she yelled frantically, seeing what he was planning.

"Yes I can Lieutenant, nothing's stopping me."

"But you'll…" she screamed as Pyre finally had enough of her yelling and took his weapon and clocked her on the back of the head, knocking her completely unconscious.

"Lieutenant, what makes you think that I care if I basically rip open your mighty Battlestar's hangar, hmm?" the man said as he typed in the final coordinates, and jumped.

From space it looked like a whole section of Viper launch tubes were ripped open with no warning whatsoever. Instantly air began venting from the deck and sucked out equipment, pilots, and crewmembers through these launch tubes. The sudden jolt caused the ship to start a lateral spin that the other ships instantly veered away from but it did collide with one of the escorting Adamant-Class Frigates that had been closing to dock with the larger ship. It was this collision that caused the main damage when the top and port side of the command ship's alligator head of the ship hit the frigate amidships, fracturing a key transmitter and cutting the fleet off from the flagship's direction. In both ships several Vipers and Raptors were jostled quite badly and cracked the canopy on a few. Other decks felt the jolt as nothing but a shudder thanks to the sheer size of the vessel, but the alarms definitely betrayed the seriousness of the situation.

The Colonial formation scattered and the single Earth ship in their midst maneuvered clear of the Colonial formation and then caught sight of a little blip on its long range sensors that had not been there earlier then it alerted a formation of its sister ships. But at the center of the four-ship formation of Battlecruisers was something twice their size. Then each of the Earth vessels heeled over and made the jump straight at the unknown contact.