Chapter 8

Location: Cylon Basestar

Date: December 2, 2021

Time: 2345

"Why can't we just beam her out again?" Vala whispered as the Earth rescue team made up of ten Marines in their woodland MARPAT and ECH helmets with heavy IMTV vests while carrying 7.62x51mm firing FN SCAR-H's and Mk.48 SAW's, this was in contrast to the more lightly-equipped SG-1 crept through the ruined flickering interior of the Cylon Basestar. They'd chosen the heavy-hitting rounds to help combat the Cylons according to Commander Adama's intelligence.

"Because there are weird lifesigns on board that make it impossible, and the ship itself is giving off some odd life sign reading," Jackson replied as he followed Mitchell.

"The ship's alive?" one of the Marines asked bluntly.

"In a matter of speaking," Daniel said back.

The ship seemed to be in chaos, alarms were blaring all over the halls in strange high-pitched squeals that were deafening to the ear. Red lights pulsed along the walls that were basically light fixtures themselves. A few places had shattered glass pieces from vibrations or something falling into them. A few wires hung from the ceiling in isolated places where damage seemed to be quite severe. The floors were as smooth as marble and all exactly the same shade of black. Occasionally the entire deck would rumble as an explosion rocked the ship in some weapons emplacement that was targeted by pinpoint rail gun and missile fire. There were a few isolated life signs, but they would just fade in and out as if they were a part of the massive life sign that seemed to be the Basestar itself. Or of the same type of life force.

Mitchell and Jackson had ditched their P90's and chosen a pair of AA-12 semi-automatic shotguns loaded with heavy-hitting slugs. They were probably the most ideal weapons the Hammond had on board to deal with this situation. Vala had chosen a Benelli M1014 with the same sort of rounds that Mitchell and Jackson were toting. The team was also equipped with a beacon that sent out signals that could be pinpointed exactly in the event they needed to be beamed out quickly like if they were wounded or jettisoned out into space.

The team suddenly halted at a corner as Colonel Mitchell heard an inhumane noise coming from around the corner. He leaned out to take a quick peak as the marines settled in guarding the rear of the group for anyone or anything coming from behind them. What Mitchell saw was like something from a movie. There were five seven-foot tall armored robots on guard in that hall. Three were moving away from them down the hall. Two were standing guard at a door, the first they'd seen. The robots were armored up in intimidating chromed out plates that guarded and covered every bit of circuitry that they ran on. A slit served as an eye with a red light waving back and forth in a hypnotizing movement as the Centurion scanned back and forth for threats or objects of interest.

"Are those Cylons?" Vala asked, clearly intimidated.

"Looks like," Mitchell said, shouldering his AA-12 and taking aim while Teal'c did likewise with his staff weapon, which he'd picked for the job due to its destructive potential.

"On my call," he said and moved to get into position, but the excellent peripheral vision of the Centurions caught this movement the moment he exposed himself.

With that the Centurions whirled around and transformed their hands to gun barrels and started firing just as the rescue team opened up. But the Centurions were out in the open and when the slugs started flying they were easy targets. The first Centurion hit was riddled with the deadly slugs and staggered on its feet until a well-placed shot from Teal'c's weapon smashed it right in the head, melting it and sending melted fragments into his buddies. The next Centurion began firing immediately with both hands and sent bullets into the corner where the group was taking cover. The marines suddenly began firing away at something behind the team and Mitchell was shocked to see that at least eight Centurions had run up behind them, and sparks were raining from the targeted Centurions.

"Open up on 'em!" one Marine said as he laid into the Centurions with a belt of M993 armor-piercing rounds from his Mk.48 machine gun.

"I'm hit!"

The closest marine in line took a burst of fire into his chest that sent him sprawling onto the ground writhing in pain as his comrades advanced to grab him and continued firing, the thundering reports of their SCAR's droning into a steady roar. The entire squad of Marines let loose and started chalking up the kills. The Centurions' first row was wiped out as their armored bodies were turned to swiss cheese by the massive flood of heavy rounds. One exploded, sending fragments into the wall where it shattered the glass and sparked a fire in the fragile wiring of the panels protected by it. The wounded marine was dragged screaming into the protection of the team as the Centurions advanced unflinchingly to their deaths.

"Teal'c help 'em out!"

Teal'c quickly nodded and ran to assist the marines and fired away. Two plasma burst slammed into and through a single Centurion as more of the metal soldiers rounded the corner and the battle heated up. The chattering of the SCAR's held by the marines barked out at the wave of Centurions advancing on them while SG-1 dueled with another four Centurions down the other hall that had come running but one had its faceplate shattered by Mitchell's first shot and dropped with a mechanical clang to the tiled floor. Jackson rushed forward, firing again, causing the other Centurions behind to stagger back, taking cover while Vala reloaded her last round as quickly as she could and racked the action and leaned around the corner and fired to cover Mitchell as he too reloaded.

Another man went down as Teal'c ran up to take his place, dragging the wounded marine behind cover. After checking to be sure that he'd live, Teal'c rose up and fired again, smashing two more Centurions as another went down as one of the wounded marines fired a Zat at the robot which began convulsing and whirring, as if in pain, but then Teal'c finished it as it stumbled into the hallway. Mitchell finished reloading and managed to bring down another Centurion and ran forward with Daniel covering him. The combined fire from both he and Jackson took out another Centurion and forced the remaining one to duck behind the door.

Teal'c ran forward trying to close the distance as the Centurions continued to pour fire against them and wounded two more of the Marines, striking arms and legs. Thankfully their advanced Kevlar and plasma resistant flak jackets were able to hold back most of the impact from the Centurions' wrist mounted weaponry. There were five left, and Teal'c was going to take on all of them. Firing his staff again he blew up two of them just as one of the robot soldiers swung at him with a hand of solid steel sharp enough to carve up an elephant. He ducked quickly, swinging his staff with a powerful blow that swept the legs of the Centurion out from under it and then he fired a single blast that blew apart its head. He then swung the staff around to fire at the other two Centurions and blew one of the legs off one of them and brought the back of the staff right into the red glowing eye, cracking it open and neutralizing that one as well. As he did that the last one took aim at the back of Teal'c but without missing a beat he fired at the Centurion with his back turned and sliced it clean in half.

"Wow," the Marine's Captain breathed in admiration.

"This battle is not yet concluded," Teal'c said as he jogged past them to assist the rest of the team as the smoke and vaporized metal floated and clung to the ceiling along as the dozen mangled Centurions lay smoldering.

"Mitchell," Teal'c called out, but to his relief SG-1 had finished off the last of the Centurion guards.

"We're alright Teal'c, the marines?" Mitchell asked as he leaned down to poke one of the fallen Centurions with his AA-12.

"Four of them are injured," Teal'c replied, "Captain Spears is asking to have them beamed out."

"Alright, Captain, beam out your wounded, we gotta move," Mitchell called out on the radio.

"Copy that sir."

As the marine officer called over to the Hammond that they needed to be beamed out SG-1 surveyed the situation.

"These guys here were guarding something, notice how they were standing guard with these guys on patrol?" Mitchell pointed out.

"And then their pals came runnin' once we started mixing it up."

"Which means that there's something worth guarding in that room," Vala said, walking over to the large door where Teal'c was looking at a life signs detector.

"Over here," Teal'c pointed, "There is a life sign in the room."

"Cover the hall," Mitchell ordered the six remaining marines, "Ready?"

With nods from the other members of the team Mitchell pressed the door's activation button and with a smooth hiss the door slid open and they all rushed in, weapons aimed and ready to fire at any Centurions that were in the room. But thankfully, none were present. Instead something better was lying cuffed on a metal chair by her wrists and ankles.

It was Kelsey, she was unconscious from sheer physical exhaustion and mental exhaustion. Her head was leaning over to the side with blood all across the smooth skin, glistening alongside sweat. Her nose had a thin line of blood trailing from it, and her chest rose and fell from shallow breaths. Jackson ran over to her and started pulling off the shackles holding her to the chair as Mitchell keyed the radio to report in.

"Colonel Carter, this is Mitchell, we have secured the objective, repeat, we've secured the objective," he said as Daniel attempted to wake her up.

"Copy that Mitchell, have you found any other humans?" Carter asked.

"Negative. We've seen them on our scanners, but they've always slipped away."

"Are you ready to beam out?"

"Affirmative, beam us out," Mitchell said as two of the marines held Kelsey between them.

Less than thirty seconds later they were all enveloped in a flash of light and then all of them reappeared within the medical bay of the George Hammond. The four marines were already in cots with medical personnel attending to them with bloody bandages across the floor and the smell of blood and various medical implements was hanging thick. The ship was still at battle-stations with everyone having compact rebreathing equipment in case of a loss of atmosphere and everyone but medical personnel having an M9 holstered at their sides in case the ship were boarded. But the odds of that happening were remote to none. And with their away team successful in securing their objective they were now in a state of confident relief.

"Sam, this is Mitchell, we're aboard with the package."

"Very well," Carter responded.

On the bridge Colonel Carter was standing near the window where Commander Adama was stading looking out at the very one sided battlefield strewn with the rubble of Basestars, the bodies of Raiders, and the rare piece of wreckage from an F-302 with the bodies of their pilots removed of course.

"Should we finish off the Cylon ship ma'am?" one of the officers on the bridge asked from his station.

"No, hold your fire, if can capture it to gain any intel on what their other capabilities and intentions are that would be preferred."

"Good luck with that," Adama said, pointing out at the Basestar several of the arm section twisted against each other and detonated.

The ship ripped itself apart as a piece of wreckage slammed into it and forced its own inertia and size to tear apart the already weakened structure. The main hull of the ship began to balloon with internal explosions and leaked atmosphere profusely. Then in a nuclear fueled detonation the ship lit up and vaporized, melting the entirety of the center of the ship and sent other pieces flying.

"Self-destruct?" Carter asked Adama.

"More than likely, if Cylon Basestars were ever disabled their computer systems had a contingency plan that would detonate a nuke hidden under their reactors if they felt that they were compromised."

Then Colonel Carter put a hand to her ear and smiled.

"Commander," Carter said as Adama surveyed the destruction with a critical eye.

"Yes Colonel?" he said, snapping out of the military engrained trance he was in.

"My team has returned with your daughter, they're in the med bay now. And both of your pilots have survived the battle," she said, "I can have your pilots escorted there once they land."

"I'd be most grateful Colonel. Lead on."

Adama was still impressed at how quickly and brutally the Earthers had wiped out the Cylon fleet or to be mesmerized by the way they did it. But he chose none of those options, he now had to go see his daughter in the med bay. He was mostly concerned for her well-being, this was only natural as he was a father and she was his daughter. But he was most definitely overjoyed she was alright. For now, that was all that mattered, the report he was going to have to provide his superiors was going to be a long one that could wait another day.

She led him off of the bridge and through the ship quickly to the med bay as the ship speakers began calling out for the crew to secure from battle-stations. On the way there Apollo and Starbuck joined them with smiles on their faces and immediately began bragging about how many Raiders they'd killed. Starbuck was adamant she'd taken down at least sixteen, while Apollo said they were both even at fifteen because Starbuck had shot down a Raider he'd sent tumbling into her crosshairs. Of course she'd shot it, making the whole craft shatter and claimed the kill as her own. But Adama just told them to look at the gun cameras and let protocol decide. By the time he'd settled the argument they had arrived in an isolated room where Kelsey was recuperating.

"Well isn't this becoming a habit?" Starbuck called out as she strolled in, "Maybe we should change your callsign to 'Damsel'? You have everything but the princess look down pat. All you need now is a little tiara and a pink fluffy dress."

"The guy pistol-whipped me and held a gun to my head! What was I supposed to do?" Kelsey stammered as she sat up in the bed, careful not to yank out the wires on her arm, but was also fairly out of it, the morphine working her over pretty well.

"It's alright, sometimes hoping for a rescue is all you can do," Lee said, consoling his sister, who just grunted at not being able to save herself, being uncharacteristically dramatic as she did so.

"I think I'll leave you all alone," Carter whispered, wisely leaving the room. But before she did she looked up at the camera in the corner of the room to be sure it functioning and recording the conversations the Colonials were having, just in case.

"You alright Kelsey?" Bill Adama himself asked as he sat next to her.

"I'm fine dad," she said back, smiling brightly, "Thanks to you guys coming to get me. Speaking of which how did you get me out? I was deep inside a Basestar!"

"These Earth ships are far tougher than they look," Starbuck piped up, "They had a fleet on their way towards the Colonies with their civilian delegation aboard for negotiations when they saw that frakker Pyre and your Raptor jump nearby."

"So they rescued you, and asked for an expert on Cylon tactics and tech to come along."

"You?" Kelsey asked, remembering her father was basically a war hero, "But you're so old…" she quipped.

"I'm not that old," Adama chuckled, smiling fairly brightly and looked over to his two pilots who just lifted their hands up in a reply that said 'not touching that subject'.

"And we were there too, by the way we kicked ass Lightbulb," Starbuck bragged.

"Not as much as the Earthers, although dad did give them an idea of how to deal with them," Lee informed his sister.

"So it seems, but I'm not sure how much difference it would have made, the Cylons were wiped out in moments. Four entire Basestars and their compliments of Raiders," Adama chuckled.

"What?! How'd they…"

"Easy there kid, we'll fill you in. Just relax."

Caprica, Caprica City

"Mr. President," came the voice on the intercom of Richard Adar's desk.

"What is it?" the President of the Colonies asked.

"I have Admiral Nagala here to see you, he says it's urgent."

"Alright, send him in," Adar stood up and walked over as the door opened to reveal not only the highest-ranking officer in the entire Colonial Fleet, but there were several high-ranking officers behind him as well carrying several suitcases with classified materials sealed up inside them, "Admiral, I wasn't expecting you here."

Richard Adar was a decently sized man in his early sixties. He had already served half of his second term as President and the stress of that job was apparent on his features. His normally brown hair that was mostly gray was now almost entirely gray at except at the sideburns and his eyes had slight bags under them from a lack of sleep over the years. His overly-aggressive style had been cause for a lot of sleepless nights and just as many all-nighters. Recently, the unrest on Aerilon, where fifteen civilians died and hundreds were injured by overly-aggressive Marines inserted to supplement local riot police who'd been unable to quell a protest against what the populace believed to have been rigged elections. The names of those casualties were there, laminated on his fine wooden desk for him to look at every time he looked down at it. The memory of this bloody few weeks and the year-long Quorum committee investigation influenced a nasty system-wide teacher strike had nearly come similar force as opposing sides of the argument came to blows both with each other and with overwhelmed riot police whose local mayors refused to put down the violence and nearly forced Adar's hand by once more sending the Marines to do the job of the mayors. This outcome had however been avoided when his own Secretary of Education, Laura Roslin, a true moderate by Colonial standards, had gone behind the back of the entire cabinet and her own department by negotiating a settlement herself. He expected her resignation shortly, such a move just could not be allowed to happen again, especially in a much more consequential department. There were other things such as economic troubles on Tauron and Aerilon, political gridlock in the Quorum, and almost weekly natural disasters and terrorist incidents across their worlds that demanded his attention plus the ever-present Cylon threat to make his thinning hair gray. But he still retained his same confident posture that he had when he was first elected, being slightly more energetic than most men his age.

"I'm sorry for barging in like this Mr. President but we have a situation."

"What type of situation?" Adar asked, motioning for the Admiral and his subordinates to sit.

"Sir, several hours ago we received a Code E Five Alert from the Battlestar Galactica…"

"You're going to have to enlighten me Admiral, what's a Code E Five? There's so many codes that it's impossible to remember them all."

"Mr. President, a Code E Five is the Fleet's designation for a first contact scenario, with Earth."

"Earth?!" Adar deadpanned, leaning forward with his arms on his knees, his whole demeanor now demanding more information, "That old war horse made contact with Earth?"

"It seems that way sir. It was only recently confirmed by both Admirals Cain and Powers. As per protocol Commander Adama, the Commanding Officer aboard the Galactica contacted command and we scrambled every ship we had in range. These ships rendezvoused on the Galactica and set up a perimeter and quarantine of the local space. Admiral Powers took command aboard the Triton, a Prometheus-Class Command Battlestar, and with a large force we were able to get the local space locked down."

"I don't need to know the little details Admiral. Earth, did Adama make contact with people from Earth?" Adar demanded, making every one of the officers in the room flinch at the angered voice of their Commander-in-Chief.

"At this point sir, we believe so," Admiral Nagala confirmed, "These people from Earth had claimed that one our pilots had jumped into the atmosphere of one of their planets, a place they call Alpha Site. So far, they haven't said anything more about this Alpha Site, but the pilot survived and made contact with what sounds like an Earth military colony of some sort."

"And these Earth folks decided to bring her back and make contact themselves?" Adar asked.

"That's what they said sir," Nagala replied, "The pilot is Lieutenant Kelsey Adama, daughter of Commander Adama, CO of the Galactica. She disappeared a month ago on a mission to Caprica but when she jumped her Raptor never arrived. Without the wreckage of the Raptor we can't make an exact judgment of what happened but a major malfunction must have sent her jump drive into overdrive and she jumped way beyond the red line."

"And right into Earth's lap. Sounds almost too good to be true," Adar mumbled, getting no visible reaction from the Admiral sitting in front of him.

"Yes sir it does, but we followed our protocol and sent a civilian delegation to the Galactica after bringing Lieutenant Adama in for debriefing. They made proper contact and, well you can read the reports yourself, but in the reports they stated that these people claiming to be an exploratory team from Earth are the real McCoy."

"And the debriefing of this Lieutenant?"

"Mr. President, this is where things get sketchy, as we received these reports less than an hour ago so nothing has been confirmed yet. Admiral Powers sent Admiral Cain out to find the Earthers' ship that they had launched from, and found it within the gas giant Ragnar."

"Those Earthers found the Anchorage?" Adar noted curiously, having been told that the Anchorage was as secure as could be from outside detection.

"No sir, they were in the atmosphere itself, we don't know how, but their ships apparently have a much tougher hull than ours do against that kind of damaging atmospheric conditions. But from what observations from the fleet have suggested, their ship is roughly six hundred and fifty meters long, and has hangers for fighters and scout craft such as the one the Galactica encountered, but its fairly light in terms of tonnage by our outside reckoning."

"So…some type of escort ship or a cruiser then, they apparently thought it wise not to send a capital ship into our space? Right?"

"Our reports don't seem to think so, the ship has repeatedly called itself the Earth Defense Ship General George Hammond. She's a warship alright sir."

"Okay, a warship, so what happened then?"

"Well sir, from here reports are unverified, but from what we've been able to gather someone abducted Lieutenant Adama right off of the Triton, tearing open her number two flight pod in the process and killing dozens of crewmen."

"WHAT?!" the President roared, "Are you telling me that someone waltzed onto the most powerful ship in the entire frakking fleet and took her?!"

"Mr. President, as I said, reports have not been confirmed but eyewitnesses report that the senior Intelligence officer aboard the Triton was seen escorting her to the pod. A firefight broke out as they attempted to leave but the faces are hard to make out and the eyewitnesses to that firefight were all killed when the Raptor jumped and the pod was exposed to space."

"So the witnesses are dead so you have no leads?"

"We have a few that we're following up on. Fleet Intelligence and the Federal Bureau of Enforcement are cracking down on every possible terrorist, rebel, and pirate cell trying to get any leads that we can gather. But apparently the Earthers had their own idea of what happened and acted."

"They…acted?" Adar asked pointedly, not really believing the totally wild tale of what he was hearing.

"Admiral Cain assumed command of the fleet, as per protocol, and asked the Earth ship to return to the formation."

"Cain? She's in command? Gods help us," Adar groaned, knowing the fiery temperament of the highest-ranking woman in the Colonial Fleet.

"The Earth vessel refused, claiming a Battlegroup from Earth had been dispatched to escort their own civilian delegation but had diverted to track the Raptor that the abductees used to make their escape."

"Wait, hold on, an Earth Battlegroup? Why did they do that?" Adar asked.

Nagala simply shrugged his shoulders, "My people are interpreting it to mean that our forces might have unsettled the Earth politicians and they wanted to appear stronger than what their one vessel showed us."

"Or, they were wanting a fight," Adar grumbled.

"I would highly doubt that Mr. President. But the Earth commanding officer said that their long-range scanners had picked up the Raptor inside Cylon Space and went after it in an attempt at a rescue mission. They claimed their reasoning was that the Lieutenant in question had become a good friend to them," Nagala said, signifying that Earth seemed to have far superior technology already.

"Admiral, are you saying that Earth decided, out of the blue, to take an entire one of their fleets into Cylon territory, without knowing what they were in for? How did Cain let them go through with it?!"

"Mr. President, Admiral Cain, in fact no Colonial has authority over any Earth vessel or personnel. If they want to do something then we have no say in the matter. And I personally spoke to Cain, she said that if the Earth ship was very confident in their ability to fight the Cylons, and she reasoned that while we may be relatively equivalent to the Cylons and if Earth can handle them we wouldn't want to antagonize them, while at the same time we're ready for fight with the Cylons in all respects, but Earth is the exact opposite side of that coin."

"And if Earth causes a war with the Cylons it won't be us blamed, at least not internally. Politically, it would be just fine for the administration, a war to defend the Thirteenth Colony would go over very well with the voters."

"Yes sir, and if Earth was right, they'd make the Cylons even more tentative in dealing with the Colonies as a whole. And would probably open the door to close cooperation in the event of conflict with the Cylons."

Adar nodded, knowing that he was right, Earth was a unique case among the Colonies. There were documentaries on its existence, possible level of development, and what possible scenarios were for the unification of Earth with the other twelve Colonies. There were speculations that with Earth being a loner they would have more than likely become more fiercely independent than the other colonies had been due to being on their own for many thousands of years. But most experts agreed that Earth wouldn't be on the same level of advancement as the rest of the Colonies due to its lack of resources and people that the rest of the Colonies enjoyed. Another prevailing theory was that Earth had left Kobol far earlier than the rest of the tribes, and so it had a head start and would be far more advanced than their brethren. But to many this theory was thought to be infeasible due to the fact that Earth would have found them by this point if they were so advanced, which some answered by saying that Earth, like the Twelve Colonies, had an enemy, but instead of the Cylons Earth was fighting aliens. Aliens were voodoo in the Colonies and to the Colonials, and this theory was written off, and a lot of the reasoning was due to a certain amount of self-righteousness on the part of many scientists. Most, if not all the major scientists and the government of the Colonies held the firm belief that there was no such thing as aliens in the popular sense. But perhaps the existence of Earth could shed some light on if this was true.

"Have they returned yet? Were they successful?" Adar demanded, desperate to know whether the Thirteenth had just doomed itself to the mercy of the Cylons or if they had triumphed.

"So far Mr. President, we haven't seen them return, but we have put the Fleet's alert level on FLEETCON-2 in case the Cylons retaliate an our contingencies are ready to put into effect."

"May the Gods help them," Adar groaned, worried about the possibility of war erupting now and him having to answer for the destruction of Earth vessels at the hands of the Cylons.

"So say we all," some of the officers mumbled under their breaths.

"Mr. President, there is one other thing that the Fleet wishes to bring to your attention," Nagala started, getting a nod from Adar to proceed, "Sir, with the discovery of the Thirteenth Colony it can now be decided that Kobol exists, and that it is out there, waiting for us to find it. With Kobol, and the secrets it holds we can do many things. First, we can find the route to Earth itself, and establish a shipping lane for ease of transport. Second, we can map out possible locations for new colonies and resources to help the economy. And third, we can might find advanced technology at Kobol that can be used to supplement the Fleet, and then introduce into the wider economy."

Another officer stepped forward, this man one of the high-ranking staff officers in the capital responsible for military press releases, "Mr. President, for some time now an organization has been lobbying in the Quorum to dispatch an expedition to find Kobol and unlock its secrets, namely the location of Earth. However, the Fleet has barred any attempts to send an expedition by withholding military escort through unknown space. But now that Earth is out there, we can now affirm that Kobol too exists and we can pull together an expeditionary fleet and find the home of our ancestors."

"And you need my approval," President Adar asked, stunned that so much was happening so fast.

"Yes Mr. President, as commander-in-chief your approval is required for any deployment of military forces beyond the red line as per the Military Deployment Act."

"Very well, you have my support Admiral," he said, then turned back to the subject of contact with Earth, "Does the Quorum and the Forum know that we've contacted the people of Earth?" he asked, now bringing up the two distinct legislative bodies of the Colonial government, the population-based Forum of the People, shortened to 'The Forum', and the 12-person Quorum of 12, known as the 'Quorum'.

"Only the members of the Special Access Committee are read into the situation and the rest won't know until you have declassified the events of what has happened. But it's only a matter of time until someone leaks, the Quorum and the Forum leaks classified information like a sieve."

"True, but the truth about the Triton cannot be discovered, we'll call it a malfunctioning Raptor FTL, after all, we have had problems before. It would cripple morale and cause that much more unrest throughout the Colonies. We can't give terrorists any more reason to think they have a hope of beating the fleet."

Adar was right, the fact that the mighty new Battlestar had been damaged by a handful of collaborators and then got away with a high priority individual was a slight to the fleet that could not be ignored. Then add to the fact that it had taken Earth's own military forces to get involved to rescue the individual in question was a blow to not only the Fleet but to Colonial honor. So those events would be kept under tight wraps. Instead a cover story about a malfunctioning Raptor would have to suffice. It would definitely make the Raptor look like a dangerous death trap but at worst the Fleet would get more funding for a new type of all-purpose utility craft to replace the updated war horse.

But the fact Earth had done something like dashing into Cylon territory to rescue a Colonial when something like that should have been done with the full might that the Colonial Fleet could bring to bear was something that couldn't be found out by the general public. President Richard Adar wouldn't let the heroics of one independent colony sully the reputation of the other twelve.

Earth, The Pentagon

Jack O'Neill was normally a very busy man, being head of Homeworld Defense implied a busy schedule. Not only did he have to deal with the military operations of the fleet, the Stargate, and the security of said operations but he also had to deal with the political and civilian part of the program. And lately he was working towards mandatory retirement age within the next few months, and was trying to get a few chosen officers ready for taking overall command of Homeworld Defense while at the same time warding off the IOA from pushing a civilian into the job. That was the most annoying part of the entire job.

But for the moment he was doing something that he actually liked doing, looking at cool projects and technology reports, although most confused him. But he liked the pictures mostly, they had a great team of artists that drew up drawings and such, predicting what stuff was going to look like. It was the highlight of his day whenever the geeks at Area 51, Stargate Command, or Colonel Carter herself came up with new stuff for him to sign off on.

The report before him was on the planned offworld base dubbed Delta Site. According to what he was reading the base would be the largest ever conceived by Earth. The location where the Stargate was located was reported to be in a very warm and dry region with a clear view of a rocky Mediterranean-esque coastline with dozens of mountainous islands and a supposedly, according to the report he had, 'Incredibly rich variety of wildlife across a varied and diverse landscape mimicking that of Earth.' The SGC had found the planet in the list of worlds from his own adding of addresses that weren't on the Abydos Cartouche, meaning it hadn't been touched by the Gou'ald, and due to its positioning amongst several worlds on the Protected Planets Treaty it was nearby. Its location completing a ring of worlds around Earth that was formed of the worlds where they already had the Alpha Site, the Beta Site, and the Gamma Site. The biggest allure, it had a rich series of naquadah and trinium veins running through its crust and an asteroid belt in the solar system from a very large disintegrated series of planets, not just one. It was obviously a location the Ancients had meant to colonize, but no evidence was present showing that they'd done so aside from the Stargate itself.

But it wasn't the plants that had O'Neill really interested in the planet. It was the mountains themselves. It was perfect for a base of operations to be established within the protective granite of the rock fortresses. Another plan that was also perfect for this location was the new shipyard design. It called for a pair of extinct cone-shaped volcanoes to be slightly dug out in a ring and then nestling a framework of power generation facilities, fabrication centers, storage, and heavy-lifting assembly equipment could be built in and then all these components dropped into covered dug-out frameworks meant for final assembly of all sorts of ships, and in some cases several ships at once due to the size of the docks.

The design was brilliant considering what Earth had been doing before to build ships. They'd had to dig out entire shipyards underground that had to then be concealed and filled in with the necessary equipment needed to build ships using this limited space. And then if a new type of ship design came along they had to build brand new ones to accommodate the increased or decreased size of the individual classes. But this shipyard design had the ability to build different types of ships with the same shipyard. Plans were already drawn up to commence surveying for the various construction efforts. However, a facility that would end up being this strategically important would need defensive measures, a lot of them. So preemptive estimates stated that quite a few rail guns, numerous missile batteries, and a shield generator would be set up to defend the island from air and space attack. The shield generator was meant to be powered by the SGC's first attempt at an Asgard-style neutrino ion reactor and would be able to encompass the area around it stretching for several kilometers in a manner similar to the Ancients' shield tech, and was the first major project envisioned by the engineers of Homeworld Defense.

Plans also indicated airfields for operating both operational squadrons of F/A-302B "Banshee" Space Superiority Fighters and F/A-302C training variants for the fleet to train its pilots. After careful consideration the F-302 was designated as the Banshee due to the high-pitched noise its engine made in atmosphere and it was linked to the legend of the Banshee that whenever it was heard screaming it meant someone was going to die, and to military minds it seemed fitting. And considering the Banshee's new form had triple the armament potential thanks to improved engines and added weapons hardpoints it was indeed fitting. There would also be facilities to accommodate more than thirty thousand people, should and ally or Earth itself be compromised and need to be evacuated. This facility was overall meant to be the home for Earth's pilot training schools for their fighters and other craft like the U-306 and its projected attack variant cousin, the A-309, the "Cherokee" as it was known in American circles.

This heavy attack craft's design team had taken a look at the arsenal of the SGC and when asked the question of "how much do you want" their answer had been "yes". The Cherokee had the same sort of heavy railguns that were ubiquitous in the SGC's venerable defense turrets fixed permanently into the wing roots, two per side firing forward under direct pilot control. This was meant to let the Cherokee accomplish the same sort of direct-fire tank-buster mission profile as the A-10C "Warthog" so loved by American and NATO ground troops back on Earth with 4,000 rounds of 30mm mixed trinium-capped armor-piercing incendiary rounds with an internal core depleted uranium and high-explosive incendiary ammunition mixed in a ratio of five-to-one HE to AP, the same setup used in the Warthog. These guns' four ammunition drums were stored behind the pilot and gunner who were positioned in a different style of cockpit from the U-306, with the pilot behind and above the gunner and the space to their left and right taken up by added power generators for their four railguns. The remaining internal space was taken by an internal bomb bay in the stead of the U-306's troop bay alongside eight wing-mounted hardpoints for missiles, rocket pods, and bombs plus a more comprehensive targeting suite and a housing for a long-barrel 30mm chain-driven autocannon turret placed directly into a cavity under the nose allowing for an arc of fire of 250 degrees. Along with a comprehensive multispectral vision system in this turret and in a FLIR pod mounted in the belly of the craft the Cherokee had an added laser designator to give self-designation capability for any sort of precision munitions it might be carrying. This mix of concentrated firepower allowed the Cherokee to theoretically conduct combat air support missions such as strafing and bombing runs like a ground attack fighter like an A-10C "Warthog" or a Su-25 "Frogfoot" or to loiter on station like an attack helicopter at long range. However, the Cherokee only existed on the drawing board, albeit an advanced design nearly ready for prototype clearance.

Also planned were several large plants fully dedicated to production of war material such as new fighters like the Banshee, gunships like the Cherokee, and all the rail guns, missiles, and energy weapons that Earth needed for its growing space forces. Among the facilities were research labs for working on projects deemed too dangerous to be done on Earth. A few other labs for more civilian aimed material was to be done in outdoor labs built around the island connected via a system of roads, both underground and above ground and on other nearby large islands in the local archipelago. And of course, there were masses of infrastructure that would need to be made, including water collection filtration and distribution, power generation and distribution systems. There were more ambitious plans emanating from the IOA for paved roads and bridges, including plans for reserve power generation from a variety of green methods such as solar, tidal, wind, and a hydropower station, gas lines and storage for vehicles and aircraft, street lighting, waste collection storage and disposal, communications of all types, mess facilities, equipment storage and maintenance facilities for supporting all of that, vehicle storage and maintenance garages, rest and recreation facilities, and for the first time in years, above-ground offworld housing and personally-owned civilian vehicles for traveling on the hoped-for paved roads, and then their infrastructure had to be beefed up for supporting this housing. In essence, the IOA was planning a colony. The last sentence of the report said that the Alpha Site, the Beta Site, and the Gamma had a similar plan in mind for them, but the Delta Site was set to be the first to receive this special treatment.

With all this planned buildup off world for civilian purposes the IOA was definitely going to be far more prevalent than on the other offworld sites. So, a special place would be built to accommodate an IOA oversight board above ground as well as a place for negotiations to be held in a place that wasn't Earth but still in a controlled environment. Of course, this facility would have all the pleasures of home, and all the advancements and the newest architectural trends that could be folded into the building of the facility to be placed where the IOA would showcase Earth's advancements, using their facility as their nerve-center for negotiations with alien entities. This would also be their headquarters for managing offworld activities that fell under their direct sphere of control and influence. What this could have meant was that the IOA's big dogs would be out of D.C. and offworld where they'd be nice and out of the way.

So of course, O'Neill signed off on it to be sent over to the IOA for its requisite funding review.

As he placed the classified document and its associated concept maps and budgetary spreadsheets off to the side he heard the door open loudly and heard his secretary angrily ordering the man who had just come barging in through his door to stop. But it was too late. The man standing before O'Neill was none other than Senator Henry Jackson of the IOA. In fact for all intents and purposes he was the IOA. He was the most powerful member of the civilian oversight administration and liked to think himself as the next great thing in politics, much to the annoyance of Jack O'Neill.

"General we've got a problem," the man informed him as he came up to his desk, business as usual, as O'Neill didn't even bother to stand up. He waved his secretary, an Air Force Major to return to her work so he could handle the Senator himself.

O'Neill knew exactly what had gotten under the Senator's skin to make him barge into the most secured wing of the Pentagon. He'd given Carter permission to go on a rescue operation to save Kelsey Adama after she had been abducted, but he'd done it without even telling the IOA. And when the IOA was kept out of the loop, this bastard came storming into his office. He had reason to be angry, granted, but what he was about to do would take a flying leap across the fine line the IOA walked upon with him.

"Sir, I tried to stop him, but he insisted…"

"Hello Henry, long time no see," Jack grinned, offering him a seat, "Why don't you sit down?"

"Jack, I just got a report that the entire Alaska Battlegroup was sent on a rescue mission, and I only got it well after it happened. Not only that but we brought Colonials on board without consulting the IOA. Would you…care to explain?" the somewhat portly man questioned him, his tone even and civilized, but the way in which he spoke was coming off as very patronizing, as if he were speaking to a child who'd been caught misbehaving but wouldn't admit it.

"Well, first off Senator, close the door please," he said, pointing to the door he'd left open, and the man did so, smirking as he shut it, "Thanks…and secondly Carter had my permission to go on that op and to take a select Colonial officer with her as an adviser on the potential enemy forces that the group did encounter. Thirdly, that op was necessary to prevent a hostile force from gaining knowledge of Earth from one Lieutenant Kelsey Adama, the young Colonial we had recently returned to her people. It was obvious she was kidnapped for what she knew of Earth, and these Cylons, the hostile entity, killed quite a few Colonials to do it, obviously hostile acts yes? So, with that in mind I gave Colonel Carter my permission to go ahead and use her own initiative and judgment. And yes, I've trusted her judgement with my life many times. I know for a fact I can trust her to make the right call."

"General, do you have any idea how much you've rattled cages up at my building? As head of the IOA what happens in regard to diplomatic contact is my and the committee's realm. That's not your call to make, that's ours."

O'Neill's smile disappeared at the declaration of what this arrogant Senator had just said. It was no secret that among the military civilian oversight was the bane of shadow operations. They got in the way, threatened the security and safety of the personnel involved, and more often than not cost the military time and time costs lives and makes missions fail. The Stargate Program and its sister operation, Homeworld Defense, was no exception. Senator Jackson had been a thorn in the side of military on previous House and Senate Committees, and when he became a leading delegate on the IOA he became the bane of every soldier's existence through his incessantly-pushy habit of trying to force his extraordinarily optimistic worldview on the military. He was a product of his generation, an optimist, and a true believer on top of it. This conflicted with those who by the very nature their job had to be realists, and when this hadn't panned out he'd moved to trying to sideline the military as a whole.

He'd always tried to push for direct control of Stargate Command, citing the success of people like Elizabeth Weir and Richard Woolsey, but had never really got anywhere. Never, ever, had he insinuated he had direct control, but he coming close now. The IOA, legally, had no direct control over military operations, but it was part of their job to blow the whistle whenever they felt that something was out of place. But for them to assume control was simply not viable or smart. Something like the fleet and the SGC had to be in military control for things to get done whenever the shit hit the fan. A military was built for rapid action and reaction due to the clear and concise chain of command and areas of responsibility, but with the IOA things were more political, more vague, decisions took far longer than they needed to be most of the time. It was politics. And politics didn't work when it came to defending Earth, especially when the nations in the IOA often had contrasting interests and butted heads for the sake of doing so half the time. That's why the Air Force, and now the Space Force was there.

"Senator, I'm going to put this to you very plainly and very bluntly. I answer to four people, and four people only. The Secretary of the United States Air Force, the Chief of Staff of the United States Air Force, the Secretary of Defense, and the President of the United States. You are not on that list, Senator. Now you'd best remember that."

All of a sudden O'Neill was interrupted by the phone on his desk ringing.

"Excuse me," O'Neill growled, picking up the phone, "General O'Neill...alright, I'll be right there."

He hung up the phone and grabbed his sky-blue dress jacket and prepared to leave, but then Henry Jackson held a hand with a paper out, blocking his way.

"General O'Neill, I have here a summons for you and Colonel Carter to appear at an IOA hearing on December the Eighth. This'll be discussed in detail there. If we don't like what we hear things may get a bit more tense for you."

O'Neill just smirked at him and took the paper, and then dropped it on his secretary's desk.

"Do me a favor? Lock the door on your way out."

To those who are wondering, yes, the Alaska-Class is copied from the Achilles fan design that's so popular online.