Hunted Tribes - A BT/nBSG Crossover (Re-imagined)

Hi All,

After a long hiatus and much wrestling with the implications of the revelations of the second half of Season 4 of nBSG I'm returning to Hunted Tribes but in the spirit of nBSG it's been both re-imagined and ret-conned.

It took me a while but I think I've got a new storyline that'll still work without throwing away too much nBSG canon. I'll be putting up revised versions of what you've seen before here first then over the weekend you'll see completely new material.

Can I make a request that people don't fill this thread up with page after page of Battletech specifications like happened before, please start another thread for that if you want to do so.

Hope it'll be worth the wait.

Heh, you'll get no argument from me there. Alternatively, just start a dedicated story thread like Psycko did with the BT roundrobin. ^^

Anyways, it's great to hear you'll start work on that fic again, since I liked it very much

Prologue - Hunted Tribes

"In the halls of the Clans of Kerensky they seek to rob us of our identity by calling us the "Not Named" but we are known by many names. To the Inner Sphere we are the Minnesota Tribe, mysterious strangers who walked among them a while never to be seen again. To the Colonials we are the Thirteenth, lost brothers and sisters, the saviors of their race. To the Cylons we are known as the Earthers, a testing sent by God as a punishment for their hubris. We are perhaps all of this and more, we are the people of New Circe, we are the 331st Division of the SLDF, we are the Star-League-In-Exile, we are both the Hunted and Hunter and we are, above all and forever, Clan Wolverine."

Jennifer Vaun, Lord Protector of the Star-League-In-Exile: 3047


--

Colonial Raptor - Nebula - Deep Space

As soon as the indescribably strange sensation of jumping faded Lieutenant Margaret Edmondson, almost invariably referred to by her call-sign of “Racetrack”, looked out of the cockpit. ‘This doesn’t look right’ she stated, inwardly groaning. One jump, they were one jump into the series of ten that would take them all the way back to Caprica and it already looked wrong she thought, it was probably that Cylon bitch feeding them false navigation coordinates.

Her electronic Countermeasures Officer Hamish “Skulls” McCall couldn’t help but agree, he also knew something she didn’t. ‘No other contacts on DRADIS’ he announced.

‘What’ the pilot exclaimed.

‘Oh, man. We're at the wrong jump coordinates’ the ECO said checking his instruments. Starbuck was going to kill both of them if the Cylons didn’t kill her first on Caprica.

Racetrack slumped in her seat. ‘So what happened?’ she asked eventually, listening for a few moments as Skulls played with all the fancy electronic gear. She was qualified for the ECO job herself and knew exactly what he was doing and how long it would take. The two marines in the back leaned forward and stuck their heads through into the cockpit looking less than impressed by the turn of events even if they had the sense not to express their feelings out loud. They had volunteered to go back to the colonies and help bring back any survivors that could be easily found now they were stuck in the ass-end of nowhere instead.

‘I think there was some kind of glitch in the navcom firmware’ Skulls theorised based on the displays. ‘Hey bottom line, we're to hell and gone from where we're supposed to be, skipper’ he told his pilot.

Racetrack blinked. ‘Okay, um, any chance that we can still catch up with them?’ she asked hopefully.

Skulls inwardly shrugged. ‘Not a chance’ he replied. ‘Mission rules say we head back’ he reminded her.

‘Frak me! It was the first jump’ Racetrack complained, as much to the universe in general as towards her ECO.

‘Hey, look, you gave me these coordinates’ Skulls responded defensively. He only punched them in to the jumpdrive and had no intention of taking more than his fair share of any blame.

Racetrack sighed. ‘Back to the barn’ she said resignedly. On the plus side at least they wouldn’t be going five days without a shower like the others presumably still with Starbuck would. It was a long way back to Caprica for a Raptor even with the Cylon calculating the series of unusually long jumps for them.

‘Hey. I am picking up a large planetary body. It's frakkin' close’ Skulls announced, checking the DRADIS again.

‘Where'd that come from?’ Racetrack asked in surprise, you didn’t suddenly “notice” nearby planets, they were usually pretty self-evident.

‘Hell if I know. So much DRADIS interference here, it didn't even register’ the Electronic Control Officer explained, the nebula they seemed to have accidentally jumped into was playing merry hades with the equipment, the displays almost seemed scrambled.

Racetrack checked the sensors herself. ‘Hey, check this out’ she said. ‘Atmosphere is nitrogen/oxygen. Organic molecular spectra. Fresh water? Hey, you know what this is? It's habitable! We may have just found a world that can support human life. Maybe we're not just a bunch of frak-ups after all’ she said optimistically, or if they were they were lucky frak-ups which was just as good in her book, the corners cut off like they should be of course.

Skulls blinked and started checking his electronic warfare gear. ‘Skipper’ he said nervously, ‘I think we just got scanned and it wasn’t any kind of DRADIS signal I’m familiar with’ he said. ‘Frequency is all wrong and so is...’ he began then stopped when he noticed something else. ‘We’re receiving a transmission, not a colonial military or civilian channel’ he told her.

‘Frak me sideways’ Racetrack exclaimed. ‘Cylons’ she declared. Guess they were unlucky frak-up’s instead she decided. ‘It could be a virus’ she suggested. ‘Let’s get the frak out of here, we’ll do a series of jumps to shake them before returning to the fleet’ she said, getting ready to leave in a hurry.

Skulls listened. ‘It’s audio’ he said, ‘and I think it’s a language but I don’t understand a word’ he said. ‘Whoever it is they’re starting to sound agitated we’re not replying’ he said. ‘Lords of Kobol!’ he cried out. ‘We just got painted by enough wattage to light up Caprica City!’ he exclaimed. ‘We’re being targeted boss’ he said.

Racetrack looked at her DRADIS display and felt her jaw drop. ‘Something in high orbit around that planet just entered line of sight’ she said. ‘And I think it’s pissed’ she added with a grimace.

‘Basestar?’ Skulls queried, still trying to find a way to interfere with the apparent weapons lock but getting nowhere fast. There was no way a raider, even a heavy one was putting out a fraction of that kind of power he knew.

‘I don’t think so’ Racetrack said slowly, ‘but whatever the frak it is I vote we run away’ she opined.

‘Good call’ one of the marines agreed.

‘Do you want the good news or the bad news?’ Skulls asked his pilot flatly.

‘Just spill it’ Racetrack replied fatalistically.

‘We need to reboot the navcom before I can plot a plot a jump and that takes longer than we've got’ the ECO replied.

The pilot blinked. ‘So what's the good news?’ she asked.

‘That was the good news’ Skulls told her, ‘the bad news is that I think we’ve got fighters heading our way hell for leather’ he said. ‘Maybe I should have said the bad news and the worse news?’

‘There’s no way I’m being taken prisoner by the toasters’ Racetrack stated. ‘We fight until we’re out of missiles then ram the frakkers okay?’

‘Frakking A’ the marine who had spoken before agreed, the other one nodding assent. There was no way they were getting taken alive by the toaster bastards.

Skulls closed his eyes. ‘I’m with you Skipper’ he said eventually. ‘Oh frak it’ he said and switched the radio over to transmit on the same frequency they were being signalled on. ‘The entire frakking Cylon race can kiss my colonial ass’ he replied to the signal. ‘You can hunt us down until the Goddess Artemis herself would give up chasing and you’d still never catch us’ he declared. ‘We’ll see you in hades’ he added.

The increasingly frantic transmissions suddenly cut out and after a few minutes another voice came on speaking the worst dialect of Old Caprican either of the colonial officers had ever heard in an appalling accent. ‘Who are you and how did you get here?’ it asked haltingly. ‘And why are you speaking bad Ancient Greek?’ it added suspiciously.

‘Ancient what?’ Racetrack asked nonplussed, looking at Skulls who shrugged his shoulders.

There seemed to be some conversation going on at the other end in the unknown language before the voice speaking Old Caprican spoke again. ‘Are you from a lost Star League colony?’ it queried.

‘What the frak is a “Star League”?’ Skulls asked Racetrack rhetorically. ‘We’re colonials’ he signalled back.

More conversation on the other end was eventually broken by. ‘Follow the...’ the voice began then stopped, ‘metal bird’ it said eventually ‘into dock.’

‘Metal bird?’ Racetrack repeated.

‘Doesn’t know the word for fighter?’ Skulls suggested to the others. ‘Their Caprican is garbage, he noted. ‘Where are you from?’ he transmitted. If this was a Cylon trick it was sure an interesting one he decided.

‘Family... first... from Taurian Concordat’ the voice replied in its halting, uncertain vernacular.

‘Taurian... shit maybe they’re a lost colony who set out from Tauron?’ Racetrack theorised. ‘Where is this “Taurian Concordat” at?’ she signalled back, getting into the conversation.

‘Four hundred and fifty light years rim... direction of Terra’ the voice replied after a few seconds. ‘I mean...’ the man continued clearly trying to think of whatever “Terra” translated to from his own language into this weird Old Caprican dialect he was speaking, ‘... Earth’ he said eventually.

Skulls simply looked stunned, for her part his pilot whooped then started to dance as best she could in her seat. ‘Better to be lucky than good’ she began to chant over and over again as the DRADIS told them company was approaching fast.

The marines looked at each other. ‘Think they’ll have any decent food or good looking women?’ the one that hadn’t spoken before asked, confirming to Skulls his opinion on what the mentality of your typical jar-head was and their badly skewed priorities.



----------

Comments/Suggestions/Abuse?

The point of diversion from nBSG is Episode 2:19 Lay down your Burdens (Part I), in this universe New Caprica was already populated when the colonials found it by accident.

The Battlestar Wiki is a great source for nBSG as is the Battletech Wiki for information relating to the other side of this crossover.

I'll keep my comments and suggestions to myself until we get to the new parts.

As for the abuse, how much can you take?;7

They were fast with coming up with the ancient greek. Caspar Drone? Again?

If the point of diversion is way back in season 2, why do you need to rewrite anything?

Why not? Since Cannonshop's Tabiranth, I've been fascinated by them

EDIT: Damn, ninja'd. Was replying to Warringer.

Chapter One

“I'm not sure who was more surprised when we first ran into each other, us or the Wolvies, either way we both had to adjust fast because the frakking Cylons were still out there. I will say that it was probably the Toasters who ended up getting the biggest shock of all when we reversed roles and took the fight back to them, they never saw that one coming.”

Captain Margaret "Racetrack" Edmundson: 3048

-----



City of McEvedy – New Circe – 3045 CE

Jennifer Vaun finished reading the summary report and initially lost for words looked past the serious looking military officer sat on the other side of her desk to the painting hanging on the far wall of her office. Sarah McEvedy herself looked down on everyone that ever sat in this chair, often inspiring, frequently intimidating but always there, reminding you of who you are, where you come from and above all the duty you owe to those you lead. ‘Jump drive that functions within a gravity well?’ she asked eventually. ‘Jump drive that can cycle in less than an hour?’ she added doubtfully.

‘And artificial gravity’ Admiral Franks noted. ‘No I didn’t believe it either but apparently so’ he continued, shuffling uncomfortably in his own chair, not so much because of the eyes of the former Khan looking down upon them from the wall but rather because he hated his full dress uniform. ‘It’s bewildering though’ he continued with a perplexed expression, ‘their sensors are like something from a thousand years ago and the less said about their computers the better’ he told her, ‘but as you say their jump drive is far more advanced than ours’ he said. ‘We know they did jump in, and where, because their arrival tripped off our warning grid, meaning it can’t be completely different in principle to a Kearny-Fuchida drive, but you can fit the unit into a ship the size of a heavy fighter and the power requirements are relatively minimal compared to our own technology’ he told her. ‘Looking at the ship... well like one of our engineers said after looking it over it’s like something from the 21st Century added to something from the 41st.’

Vaun put her hands down in front of her on the desk meshing the fingers. ‘And this DNA screening has been double checked?’ she queried, looking to the summary again before her eyes caught the movement of a small bird outside the large panoramic window of her office distracting her for a brief moment.

Franks shook his head. ‘Quadruple checked and by different teams and equipment’ he replied. ‘No sign of any genetic manipulation but according to their mitochondrial DNA their ancestors and ours haven’t interbred for a very long time’ he said.

‘Centuries?’ Vaun asked, ‘are they from a lost colony like Neuva Castille, query affirmative?’

‘Negative’ Admiral Franks replied. ‘More like millennia’ he told her with a definite grimace, ‘best guess, according to our gengeneering teams, is that their ancestors haven’t done the dirty with anyone who has come from Terra in the last four to five thousand years.’

Vaun blinked and her jaw dropped before she could control her reaction. ‘Four to five thousand years?’ she repeated. ‘I can see a big problem with that’ she stated.

The Admiral shrugged. ‘The fact that we’ve only had interstellar travel for less than one thousand is proving hard to reconcile with the genetic evidence’ he agreed. ‘And then there’s the language’ he continued. ‘They speak a kind of bastardised Ancient Greek which according to the history department at the university seems to be most like what they were talking around about the time of the Trojan wars’ he said rubbing his chin. ‘Those were roughly Fourteen-Hundred years BCE’ he informed her, ‘I checked.’

‘I hope you’re not trying to tell me they’re the descendents of Bronze Age Ancient Greeks with stardrives, query negative?’ Vaun asked seriously, narrowing her eyes.

‘Affirmative’ the Franks replied reluctantly. ‘I wish I wasn’t but they actually worship the Hellenistic God’s too’ he explained. ‘They call them the “Lord’s of Kobol” but the names were Apollo and the like’ he said. ‘One of my more imaginative, or perhaps I should say fantastical Intelligence Officers is pushing the theory that Atlantis really existed and was more advanced than Plato made out’ he told her, rolling his eyes to the ceiling.

‘Well what do they say?’ Vaun asked him.

‘They say they’re originally from a planet called Kobol and left to colonise twelve planets, which are named after the signs of the zodiac, a couple of thousand years ago and that both their jump drive and artificial gravity technology was originally a gift to them from their “God’s” which they only learned to use in the last couple of centuries’ Franks replied. ‘They haven’t specified if they came in a box with a holy ribbon around it though’ he added in amusement.

‘So Kobol is their name for Terra?’ Vaun queried.

‘No, they think our ancestors came to Terra from Kobol too and they call us the lost thirteenth colony’ the Admiral replied. ‘When we told them that humanity was originally from Terra which means they were too they just laughed and said we needed better history books’ he said. ‘We could have proved it but decided to let that one slide for now.’

Vaun stood up pushed back her chair and began pacing around her office. ‘Why wasn’t I informed of all this immediately?’ she wanted to know.

‘I’m sorry Ma’am but we wanted to check the facts before presenting the case’ Franks answered. ‘They clearly weren’t from the Clans, or ComStar, or anyone else we ever possibly expected to meet out here so there were no standing orders on how to deal with the situation’ he explained honestly. ‘I’ve got to admit the entire story sounds so ludicrous that it took this long to verify it to anyone’s satisfaction’ he told her apologetically. ‘This brings us to the next point which was on your summary’ he said. ‘These “Colonials” as they call themselves are supposedly from a fleet of refugees who are out here looking for Terra because their homeworlds have been destroyed and they’re trying to find a new place to live’ he told her.

‘Destroyed by who?’ Vaun asked. ‘Ancient Egyptians?’ she suggested sardonically.

Admiral Franks tried to deliver the reply seriously. ‘Artificially Intelligent robots, some of whom look exactly like humans and are self-aware’ he told her.

‘So not hostile aliens then?’ Vaun responded deadpan before breaking out into laughter nearly setting off the Admiral.

‘They say they can prove it if we contact their fleet’ Franks informed her. ‘Look at it this way, they’re on their way towards the Inner Sphere with a jump drive that would revolutionise our entire civilisation’ he said. ‘Can you imagine our edge if we had that technology?’ he asked rhetorically. ‘Can you imagine the slaughter if it fell into the hands of those Successor State thugs or...’ he paused, ‘the Clans instead?’

Van frowned. ‘Do we have an idea of these people’s military capabilities Admiral?’ she asked, retaking her seat.

‘No Ma’am but our fighters apparently impressed the hell out of our two guests’ the Naval Officer responded. ‘If you want my suggestion, they’re refugees and apparently in poor condition, we don’t need to rattle any sabres, our visitors have already rattled a begging bowl so we play the friendly benefactor.’

Vaun nodded. ‘How many of them are there?’ she asked.

‘Just under fifty thousand we’re told, supposedly they’re all that’s left of an original combined population of twenty billion between the colonies’ Admiral Franks replied. ‘The AI’s they’ve supposedly been running from nuked them back into the stone age’ he stated flatly. ‘If that’s true, and I will want to see the evidence, then that’s another reason to prevent these people reaching the Inner Sphere, these jump-drives could enable an enemy to appear directly over a planet and bombard it from orbit before any military could react so we don’t want these “Cylon” robots as they call them being led directly to billions of civilians.’

‘Sounds like we can forget about the Ares Conventions’ Vaun said quietly. Despite every major power in the Inner Sphere keeping a stockpile of nuclear weaponry they were very rarely ever used and if anyone ever did utilise their atomic arsenals they would be immediately branded pariahs.

The Admiral nodded. ‘With your permission I’d like to ready our tactical and strategic nuclear deterrents, as well as mobilise the reserves’ he told her. ‘On my own authority I’ve already ordered both the Zughoffer Weir and the Bismark to begin charging their jumpdrives immediately, they were offline for maintenance but we don’t want to get caught with our pants down, query affirmative?’

‘Affirmative Admiral’ Vaun replied. ‘I’ll call an emergency meeting of the Parliament and explain the situation, can I rely on you to handle contact with these people?’ she asked. ‘Make a good impression, we might live out here in the wilderness but we’re not barbarians and remember we were hunted refugees once ourselves’ she reminded him, looking up at the picture on the far wall of her office again. That was why they had hidden themselves on a planet in a nebula out in the back of beyond all those years ago, they needed to rebuild, rearm and make ready for the day they would be called upon to take up the sword once again and fight for an ideal only they still embraced.

Admiral Franks stood up and straightened his uniform. ‘None of us will ever forget Ma’am’ he said, looking at the two flags hanging behind her, one with a star emblazoned on it the other an animals head imposed on stylised claw marks . ‘God preserve the Star League in Exile’ he intoned.

‘Wolverines keep the faith’ Jennifer Vaun, Lord Protector of the last remains of the Star League, responded automatically.

‘Seyla’ they said together, heads bowed.



Colonial One - Colonial Fleet – 3045 CE

Tory Foster took a breath to steady her nerves and knocked on the cabin door. ‘Madam President I know you said you didn’t want to be disturbed but you really do’ she announced.

After a few moments the door opened to reveal a very weary looking Laura Roslin. Despite being ahead in the polls the constant electioneering was sapping her reserves and she had hoped to get a few quiet hours to herself. ‘What is it?’ she asked her aide, noting the Colonial Officer stood next to her.

‘We just received word from Galactica’ Foster replied. ‘One of the Raptors which was on the Caprica mission returned thirty minutes ago, it misjumped on the first leg of the journey and then eventually headed back to rejoin the fleet.’

Laura Roslin yawned. ‘Why did they take a week to get back?’ she asked, and more importantly why am I being disturbed she thought to herself.

The President’s Aide collected herself for a moment. ‘They took a week to get back because they found an inhabited planet’ she told Roslin. ‘Inhabited by people from the Thirteenth Tribe’ she added, wondering if she had delivered the momentous news with quite the kind of gravitas it truly deserved.

‘You’re yanking my frakking chain right?’ the incredulous President of the Colonies responded eventually after a suitably long thoughtful pause.

Foster shook her head. She had already ignored the request from Admiral Adama to keep this all Top Secret and the rumour would already be spreading around the fleet that President Roslin had led them to the Thirteenth Tribe of Kobol, Baltar’s election hopes were buried now she decided happily, the President had led them to Earth even if luck had played a big part in it.



Battlestar Galactica – Colonial Fleet – 3045 CE

Admiral Adama looked through the glass window at the entirely non-descript pair of individuals currently sitting in the brig and then turned to the two officers stood next to him. ‘And you’re certain they’re not Cylons?’ he asked.

Racetrack nodded, a huge grin plastered across her face, she was bound to go down in the history books as the pilot that found the Thirteenth Tribe and you couldn’t buy reputation like that. She’d never buy a drink for herself at the bar again either. ‘They took us down to the planet in a type of shuttle they call a dropship’ she said. ‘There’s a whole city down there, hundreds of thousands of people, farms, factories, and they didn’t all look like clones’ she said. ‘They’re human alright’ she said brightly.

‘They stuck us in a brig too’ Skulls noted. ‘Stuck us with needles as well, then asked us a bunch of questions and eventually we get to meet an Admiral in their Navy who tells us their government is offering sanctuary from the Cylons’ he said.

‘They cut us loose along with the marines, and sent these two along to prove we weren’t making the whole thing up’ Racetrack told Adama. ‘The grey-haired guy is a historian that speaks the best Old Caprican they could find, the one in the uniform is from their Navy’ he said.

Admiral Adama put his hands behind him going into a parade-rest stance. ‘What military forces do they have?’ he wanted to know.

‘We saw fighters, and a small capital ship in orbit’ Racetrack answered. ‘They called it a destroyer, maybe six-hundred metres bow to stern’ she told the Admiral.

‘Armament?’ Adama asked professionally.

‘They didn’t shoot at us so I don't know for certain but their technology seemed pretty primitive so I guess they aren’t as well armed as we are’ Racetrack reasoned. ‘No artificial gravity on their ships and they were completely amazed by our jumpdrive’ she continued, ‘they’ve got one themselves but you can only mount it on a large ship and it can’t operate in a gravity well’ she said. ‘You want my guess they’ll be hoping to trade for the design’ she suggested. ‘And they’ll pay big.’

Adama looked at their visitors again. ‘A colony of the Thirteenth Tribe’ he observed with a grin he couldn’t hold back. He wondered how many more colonies they had and how far away Earth itself was, were they only another couple of jumps away?

‘Permission to speak freely Sir’ Racetrack requested.

‘Go ahead Lieutenant’ Adama responded, the girl had bought herself plenty of leeway to say whatever the hell she wanted to whoever she wanted in his book.

‘I never bought for certain that you were leading us towards Earth, or that it even really existed’ Racetrack admitted. ‘I’m sorry I doubted you’ she apologised.

Adama smiled, better to be lucky than good he thought to himself. ‘The president has asked for them to be bought to Colonial One’ he said. ‘Think you and your ECO can get us there? I’m sure she’ll want to talk to you too so shine your boots, put on your dress uniforms and expect to get your photograph taken’ he advised.

Skulls grinned. ‘The last time we went anywhere we ended up in the wrong place Sir’ he reminded the Admiral, earning a playful punch on the arm from his pilot.

‘And you will both be spending some quality time in a Raptor flight simulator for that’ Adama replied. ‘Just because the God’s are watching out for you doesn’t mean I have to give you any leeway’ he said. ‘They might play favourites but I don’t.’

‘Yes Sir, understood Sir’ Racetrack responded, snapping to attention as did Skulls. It was true enough, the Admiral would publicly ream out his own son if he frakked up, that was one of the reasons the Old Man enjoyed such respect amongst the troops. He was harsh, but he was fair.

‘So what do they call themselves?’ the Admiral asked curiously.

‘The planet’s name is New Circe’ Racetrack replied. ‘Yes it’s named for the same Circe from our legends too’ she said.

‘The daughter of the Sun God Helios’ Adama recalled quietly. ‘So they have the same God’s we do?’ he asked. Helios was associated with Apollo, his boy might get a kick out of this revelation he decided.

‘They know of our Gods but from what we could tell they don’t worship them Sir’ Racetrack told him. ‘They say our Gods and language are thousands of years old from a part of Earth called Greece, they also think that the human race came from Earth originally not Kobol’ she added.

Adama nodded. ‘They’ve been isolated thousands of years’ he noted. ‘We might need to be careful what we tell them, the truth might upset their society’ he reasoned thoughtfully.

Looking out through the glass from inside the brig Commander Marcus Thorpe of the Star League Intelligence Corps tried to make himself comfortable while they waited. He had been chosen for this mission because he had taken Classical History at university and had maintained an interest in the subject, still speaking a smattering of Ancient Greek although he would have much preferred meeting long-lost Romans instead because his Latin was better. Professor Sundquist the professional academic beside him had in fact been one of his lecturers almost two decades earlier and was far less happy to be stuck in this room, he wanted to talk to as many of these people as possible, compare their histories with his own, and try to work out how in the name of the First Lord they had ended up thousands of light years from Earth thousands of years ago.

‘I still think it’s Atlantis’ Thorpe stated, crossing his arms and turning back to the other man.

Sundquist snorted in response. ‘Atlantis was merely a legend based upon the collapse of the Minoan Civilisation’ he replied. ‘You always were a fantasist young Marcus’ he said with a sigh.

‘They thought Troy was nothing but a myth too until Schliemann found it, query affirmative?’ Thorpe pointed out.

‘Affirmative’ Sundquest conceded, ‘but that was over a thousand years ago’ he continued. ‘If Atlantis existed somebody would have found it by now’ he said with certainty.

Thorpe uncrossed his arms. ‘At least I’ve got a theory’ he grumbled.

‘No, you’ve got an unsubstantiated hypothesis’ Sundquist told him. ‘A proper theory is based upon facts it seeks to explain’ he chided his former student. ‘Your romanticised view of mythic history might have served you well in the military, where tales of exaggerated valour and appeals to ancient glory are the stock in trade, but in academia we aren’t quite so... florid.’

‘How did you get through your time in the Army?’ Thorpe asked, rolling his eyes. Like all citizens of New Circe the old professor would have spent two years in the military as soon as he turned eighteen and then undergone two solid weeks annual refresher training, and one weekend a month in the reserves until the age of forty.

‘Like a good citizen, I stuck it out and tried to ignore the stupidity all around me’ Sundquist replied. ‘Why anyone would want to make it their career as a preferred choice is astonishing’ he continued disparagingly. ‘Our devotion of so much time and resources into the Armed Forces is a necessary evil to be thought of ruefully in a harsh universe, it should not be embraced so enthusiastically within our culture as it is’ he opined.

‘We sleep safe in our beds because rough men stand ready to visit violence on those that would do us harm’ Thorpe responded.

‘Please don’t quote Orwell at me’ the old professor requested. ‘Our eternal mobilisation for war rings too much like Oceania as it is’ he stated wryly.

It was Commander Thorpe’s turn to snort this time. ‘We’re possibly the only real power in the Inner Sphere, the Periphery or beyond which can honesty claim to not be using 1984 as a guide book instead of a warning’ he retorted. ‘Freedom of speech, elected government, no suppression of information...’ he listed by rote, counting with his fingers.

Sundquist narrowed his eyes. ‘And that’s why I stuck out all the time I found myself crawling through a muddy ditch with a rifle’ he said coldly. ‘I see the imperfections in our society but we are the pinnacle of civilisation in these dark times’ he declared. ‘That was clear from the day when the Wolverines landed on Richmond and liberated the camps the Draconis Combine had my ancestors in’ he said. ‘They did it because it was the right thing to do, they still genuinely believed in the principles of the Star League and would fight for them.’

Thorpe solemnly nodded his heartfelt agreement. Although he had plenty of blood in his own line from the Richmond camps, which was of course inevitable after over two hundred years of mixing between those people and the original Wolverines, his family codex showed he was primarily descended from those who had liberated the slaves and political dissidents and he was proud of that.

Over the years the cultures had merged, with the more militaristic Wolverines, descendents of warriors who had followed Star League General Aleksandr Kerensky into exile then later fled the tyrannical machinations of his son Nicholas, gradually adopting some of the habits of the mainly Scandinavian descended Richmond prisoners. They in turn adopted many of the habits of the more numerous Wolverines such as speech patterns. This had led to a society which venerated the Armed Forces because of the Wolverines, education because of all the academics they found in the camps, freedom from tyranny because of the history of both groups and also, so the old joke went, was abnormally fond of putting pickled herring in field ration packs.

‘Just let me do most of the talking, your job is to translate not negotiate’ Commander Thorpe told the academic as someone entered the brig to lead them to the flight bay.

‘If you’d concentrated better in class you wouldn’t need me to be here’ Sundquist replied. ‘And don’t think I’ve forgotten you still owe me that essay on Pliny the Elder.’

‘That was nearly twenty years ago’ Thorpe protested, frankly astonished the old man remembered.

‘And check the spelling before you hand in it’ Sundquist told him sternly, he only hoped the boys handwriting had improved, it used to be atrocious.



Colonial One - Colonial Fleet – 3045 CE

They had been met by marines when they arrived on Galactica too but those weren’t standing at attention as an honour guard. Thorpe imagined these particular troops were the equivalent of the ceremonial troops that stood by the gates of the Lord Protectors mansion and he wondered if they were remotely as tough as one of the infantry regiments of the 331st frankly doubting it.

Commander Thorpe snapped to attention when the marines bought their rifles up into salute and wished he was wearing his ceremonial sword so he could return it properly. It was impractical as hell on a spaceship but strange military traditions lingered on long after their original meaning was lost. The hand to brim of the hat salute itself was originally the tipping back of a visor and remained a military salutation long after knights of yore had gone the way of the dinosaurs.

A woman a few years older than Thorpe stood in front of what appeared to be a delegation. He surmised she was this President Roslin and noted her leader-like bearing, and also by her knee length skirt the fact she had a pretty nice set of legs.

The Colonial Admiral who had flown with them from the warship stepped forward between Thorpe and Roslin and began speaking, his words being translated by Sundquist. ‘Madam President’ he began, ‘may I introduce Commander Marcus Thorpe’ he said. ‘Commander Thorpe, may I introduce Laura Roslin, President of the Twelve Colonies’ he said formally, then waited for Sundquist to translate.

Thorpe saluted, his action met by a nod from Roslin’s head. ‘Madam President’ he began. ‘On behalf of Jennifer Vaun, Lord Protector of the Star League, I offer the greetings of the colony of New Circe and the Star-League-In-Exile’ he replied. ‘The Lord Protector offers an invitation for you to visit our colony and for your people to find respite from your journey on our world’ he announced.

Sundquist translated, then apparently answered a question from the President. ‘She asked if Jennifer was a woman’s name for us too, and I told her it was’ the professor told Thorpe. ‘Their names are very curious, closer to ours than they should be given the separation of cultures’ he added.

‘There’s definitely something weird about this whole thing’ Thorpe agreed. ‘Might I introduce Professor Nils Sundquist of the University of New Circe’ he said to Roslin, ‘Professor Sundquist is our leading Historian in Ancient Terra’ he said.

After the translation Roslin smiled at the academic turned translator who smiled back before asking a question which the woman answered. ‘They shake hands at formal occasions like we do’ Sundquist told Thorpe who smiled himself and took a step forward offering his hand to Roslin.

Amidst a sudden salvo of photography from the selected members of the colonial press who had been invited Laura Roslin shook hands with a descendent of the thirteenth Tribe of Kobol. The momentous event was slightly marred by a guilty thought that crossed her mind that Baltar’s election hopes were now dead and buried. She could probably keep getting re-elected for life if she wanted, although that life might not be all that long.

‘Aren’t you glad you got that Higher Education now?’ Sunquist quietly asked Thorpe in amusement.

‘I thought it might advance my career long-term but I never thought like this’ Thorpe replied. ‘I might not get a ship but I’ll certainly get that promotion to Captain now’ he stated happily.

‘Or they might kick you out of the Navy and make you a diplomat, query affirmative?’ Sundquist suggested.

‘Negative!’ Thorpe exclaimed, ‘And don’t even joke about it’ he said in horror.

Laura Roslin wondered what the Historian had said to make the Naval Officer suddenly grimace but decided not to ask, it could be a cultural thing.



Battlestar Galactica – Colonial Fleet – 3045CE

Sat in his laboratory Gaius Baltar stared into the distance, or rather his unfocused eyes were fixed on the far bulkhead as Tom Zarek tried to think of a plan and failed ‘It’s all over’ the former dissident and rabble-rouser said eventually. ‘You were already behind the polls but now the word’s spreading that we’ve found the Thirteenth Tribe they won’t just elect Roslin they’d make her frakking Empress if she asked for it.’

Baltar nodded slowly, his face expressionless. ‘We should be happy I suppose’ he said eventually. ‘Everyone else will be.’

‘Everyone else doesn’t realise how dangerous Roslin is’ Zarek replied. ‘Our fates are in her hands, she’s going to be our representative to the 13th Tribe, she’ll steer policy towards them, hell our futures are now entirely at her whim’ he hissed.

‘He’s right Gaius’ the imaginary blond in the scientist-turned-politician’s head agreed. ‘You might as well start practicing a gracious concession speech’ she told him.

‘What about the Cylons?’ Baltar asked. ‘We could run on a platform that we need to keep moving to escape them.’

Zarek sighed. ‘After nine months stuck in ships the people wouldn’t want to keep going even if we’d only found an empty planet we could live on’ he said. ‘Face it, that crazy religious fanatic teacher did what she said she would, we’re frakked.’

‘Unless the Cylon’s come’ the blond said, walking past Baltar and stroking his cheek, at least in his imagination.

‘Unless the Cylon’s come’ Baltar repeated.

‘And how does that make us any less frakked?’ Zarek asked sarcastically. ‘I don’t think the bitch should be in charge but I’d rather live than get nuked by a bunch of walking toasters’ he said flatly.

‘They’re still following Gaius’ the blond said. ‘They might have lost the trail for now but they’ll find you eventually.’

Baltar turned and looked at Zarek. ‘People are still afraid’ he said. ‘We campaign on that fear, try to get the people to think they’re only safe if we keep moving’ he said. ‘We could even say we’re endangering the Thirteenth Tribe by contacting them’ he continued. ‘From what we know they’re primitives, they don’t even have artificial gravity on their ships’ he said. ‘It’s our duty to protect them by heading back away from their space.’

Zarek frowned. ‘I can’t see too many people responding to that but it’s worth a try’ he said. ‘It’s all we’ve got I suppose’ he said reluctantly. He wasn’t even sure he agreed himself but the argument about protecting the humans they’d met sounded reasonable, they could work on that.

The blond smiled. ‘There you go, raising your electoral hopes by trying to dash the fleets’ she said. ‘I knew there was a consummate selfish politician in there somewhere.’

‘I wonder how many colonies the Thirteenth have?’ Zarek asked rhetorically.

‘Their jumpdrive is primitive from what I’ve heard’ Baltar replied. ‘No more than a handful I’d say.’



Colonial One – Colonial Fleet – 3045 CE

Laura Roslin blinked, she must have misheard. ‘How many people?’ she asked again, noting that the other guests, Colonial Military and the members of the Quorum of Twelve were equally nonplussed. Looking more than uncomfortable at their own presence amongst such important people Racetrack and Skulls were sat near the President herself hoping they were using the right cutlery.

‘Four million million spread across over two thousand colonised worlds within a five-hundred light-year radius of Terra’ Sundquist repeated, before taking another sip of the surprisingly good drink they called Ambrosia.

The President looked across the dining table at the expression on Adama’s face. ‘And you’ve only had Interstellar Travel for less than a thousand years?’ she asked incredulously.

‘Yes’ Sundquist told her before taking a bite of his meal. The drink was nice but the food itself was very bland he decided.

‘Four million million is called a trillion’ Adama told the academic, the Ancient Greeks had never needed a number that high so they didn’t have one .

‘Thousand million?’ Sundquist inquired.

‘Billion’ Adama told him.

‘Thank you’ Sundquist replied, making careful mental note of the new words he was learning. ‘It would have been far more if the Star League had held together’ he opined. ‘Society has regressed considerably in the last three centuries’ he told them sadly. ‘The successor states are far more interested in bludgeoning themselves than exploration and colonisation of the galaxy’ he said. ‘The overall technology in the Inner Sphere is worse than it was five centuries ago’ he told them. ‘Levels of education too, you are surprisingly lucky to run into a world like ours that still regards the teaching of ancient languages and history as worthwhile’ he continued, ‘we truly are the last remnants of the Star League in philosophy as well as name.’

Adama frowned. ‘I’m surprised you’re so open about your situation’ he told the academic.

‘The Lord Protector wanted our relationship to start as open as cordial as it could’ Sundquist replied. ‘She also wanted you to realise why it’s vital you don’t lead these Cylon creatures towards human colonised space’ he told them. ‘With your superior jumpdrive technology, and the lack of cohesive government there, the death toll in the Inner Sphere would be horrendous before enough unity could be established to defeat them’ he said. ‘Back in the Star League era it might have been different, the greatest minds of all the colonised worlds could have back-engineered your drive and then the mighty shipyards churned out a veritable host of warships mounting it before the Cylons arrived but these days...’ he said with a shrug.

‘What kind of military do the successor states have?’ Adama asked professionally.

Sundquist redirected the question to Thorpe who thought about it then started relaying the answer back through the academic. ‘Very small numbers of warships, single digit in some cases, plus thousands of aerospace fighters but most of their military is geared towards ground combat’ he said. ‘The Clans have more warships and would likely make a better fight of it than the Inner Sphere states, especially given their technological edge, but with the disparity in jump drive technology they would nonetheless be at severe tactical disadvantage.’

‘With four trillion people and two thousand worlds the Cylons would have a lot of trouble dealing with the Thirteenth Tribe, quantity has a quality all its own’ Adama remarked to Roslin, ‘but the death toll would make the fall of the Twelve Colonies look insignificant’ he told her, shaking his head at the sheer scale of the possible death toll.

Sundquist translated that for Thorpe who had only picked up some of it and who nodded agreement and then commented through the historian. ‘The Commander says that’s why we want the opportunity to look at your drive technology and produce our own before the Cylons ever find the Inner Sphere’ he said. ‘We feel we can hold the line as it were, and to be honest we’re also concerned that if one of the Successor States got hold of your drive and the others didn’t it would alter the balance of power as they rapidly defeated the others and established dominion over the whole of human colonised space.’

‘But you think our drive is safe with you?’ Roslin couldn’t help but ask knowingly.

‘Our entire population is less than that of an average city on one of the industrialised worlds of the Inner Sphere’ Sundquist replied with a smile. ‘The notion that we might be able to conquer the rest of humanity is amusing but hopelessly unrealistic’ he continued. ‘At best we could pulverise a few despotic regimes and keep the wretched clans at bay for a while but we’re not going to be able to restore the Star League by sweeping out of the periphery like the Mongol Hordes’ he said, and then had to explain the reference.

Adama reached for a jug of water and poured himself a glass, noting that Thorpe was only drinking water too. ‘We know your technological base is behind ours’ he said. ‘What makes you think you can fight the Cylons?’ he asked reasonably.

Sunquist translated and then after Commander Thorpe replied translated for him in turn. ‘We’re duty bound to try’ the historian told Adama.

The Admiral smiled and raised his glass in salute which Thorpe returned with his own. ‘So we know you’ve got a military’ he said. ‘How many ships, what technology?’ he asked.

After the question was translated Thorpe took a breath, he had been told to answer honestly but for an Intelligence Officer it went against the grain. He paused then started his reply through the translator.

‘One Destroyer, which your Raptor crew encountered in orbit’ Sunquist told them. ‘One Battlecruiser and Two Battleships’ he told them. ‘Our largest battleship is roughly the same size as Galactica, the other slightly smaller’ he said. ‘We had other vessels but had to strip them for parts’ he explained, translating as Thorpe spoke. ‘Our battleships carry fifty and forty of our latest... metal birds respectively...’

‘The word is fighter’ Racetrack told him.

‘Thank you’ Sunquist replied gratefully, ‘our battlecruiser another eighteen and our Destroyer fifty more’ he continued, it was actually a hybrid craft, part light carrier. ‘We have another one hundred and fifty fighters of older designs based on New Circe’ he added.

Adama was more than surprised at how militarised the small colony seemed to be but didn’t let it show. ‘Armament?’ he queried.

Sundquist started to translate then ran into a wall because there weren’t any words in Ancient Greek for much of this. ‘Large mechanical metal throwing machines’ he said eventually then did an impression of a machine gun which made Laura Roslin laugh. ‘Devices... which make large mushroom shaped clouds’ he continued.

‘They’ve got nukes, things are looking up’ a Colonial Officer remarked.

‘Beams of bright light or tiny particles that cut through metal’ Sundquist announced then stopped because suddenly everyone looked at him.

‘Does he mean weaponised lasers and particle beams?!’ Racetrack exclaimed eventually.

Adama looked the academic directly in the eyes. ‘How much metal can these beams of light cut through’ he asked seriously.

Sundquist translated and after thinking about it Thorpe held his hands apart a fair distance.

‘At what range?’ Adama wanted to know.

The news that in space the effective range of a Naval Laser or Particle beam against a capital ship was measured in hundreds of kilometres was, it must be said, greeted with some scepticism by the Colonials. The notion that their fighters carried compact Directed Energy Weapons too was dismissed as almost unbelievable.

Thorpe and Sundquist decided not to mention the Laser Rifles their army used and wondered how on Terra these primitives had ever mastered fire.


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Comments/Suggestions/Abuse?

A quick history of the Battletech Universe can be found here. It is now 3045 a few years before the Clan Invasion.

No they're just a surprisingly well-educated bunch.

Because there's a lot of things related to the Final Five etc. that need to be dealt with, I had a storyline to work to which had to be scrapped.

Chapter 2 - Part I

“Just because they could re-grow me a new leg when we got back to New Circe doesn't mean I'm ever going to forgive that son-of-a-bitch for shooting me like that... it hurt like hell and I don't care what the doc says, it's definitely longer than the other one.”

Commander Felix Gaeta: 3046

-----



Battlestar Galactica - Colonial Fleet – 3045 CE

Felix Gaeta wasn’t sure why he got stuck with this job but he suspected the XO had a hand in it. If he had known Tigh had been anywhere in the vicinity he never would have made that joke about all the paint thinner going missing from supply after the Executive Officer inspected it, but as it was when the assignment was handed out it was handed directly to him thus ensuring no sleep for the past twenty-four hours as he furiously studied and prepared.

Most of the officers from both Galactica and Pegasus were stood around waiting and they were getting increasingly loud and annoyed at the delay as Gaeta tried to get the projector to work. It had taken him two hours to scan the atlas he was given into a series of digital images he could project on the bulkhead wall of the flight deck and he was damned if he was going to let all that effort go to waste.

Eventually the frakking thing started to cooperate and Gaeta had a bank of lights turned off so the image could be seen more easily. ‘This starchart comes from an atlas provided by our visitors from the Thirteenth Tribe’ he began, everyone settling down to listen. ‘It shows the known colonies of the humans from Earth as of the fall of what they call the Star-League roughly two hundred and sixty years standard ago.’

‘Gods!’ someone exclaimed, in the dim light it was hard to tell who. ‘How many colonies have they got anyway?’ they asked.

‘Well over two thousand, perhaps much more than that because outside this central zone they call the Inner Sphere there isn’t much in the way of authority to keep count these days’ Gaeta replied. ‘To give you some scale here this map covers an area of two thousand by four-thousand light-years with the more populated Inner Sphere marked in the centre here some five-hundred lightyears in radius’ he said. ‘Population estimates are above four trillion.’

‘Frak me’ another officer swore.

Gaeta pressed a button on the projector to get to the next slide. ‘Originally the Inner Sphere was governed by a unified government called the Star-league as I mentioned before’ he said, ‘but it collapsed after a coup leaving behind what are called the “Successor States” the worlds of each one marked in a different colour’ he told them, explaining the map. ‘In the years since the Star-League these nations have fought four major wars and innumerable skirmishes that devastated their industrial bases and has left them technologically regressed from what they were’ he continued. ‘The Federated Commonwealth shown in red is now clearly the dominant power in the Inner Sphere today with both the strongest economy and military although it still lacks the preponderance in either to take on everyone else simultaneously and reunify the Inner Sphere.’

‘I heard their jump-drive sucks’ a pilot spoke up.

‘By our standards yes it does’ Gaeta confirmed. ‘In very basic principles it resembles ours but although it can safely perform a respectable thirty light-year jump, beyond the red-line for our FTL, it then needs a week to recharge afterwards’ he said. ‘Their military ships do however have an additional battery system which enables them to do a sixty light-year double jump if necessary’ he continued. ‘Another striking superiority of our FTL over theirs is that they can’t jump into a gravity well which severely restricts their tactical capabilities.’

‘How come?’ an engineering officer queried.

‘If we didn’t have artificial gravity we couldn’t do it either’ Gaeta replied. ‘They don’t have that technology so they can’t apply it to cancel out the field locally and overcome the problem like we do’ he said. ‘Of course now we can show them how its done not only will they not have to float around they can also arrive a lot closer to where they want to go.’

A Raptor ECO from the Pegasus raised his hand. ‘Is it true they’ve got Directed-Energy-Weapons?’ he asked.

‘So they say’ Gaeta replied. ‘Lasers and what they call Particle-Projection-Cannons’ he told them. ‘They are way ahead of us in that field but our autocannons and railguns are better’ he noted. ‘We didn’t have their science-fiction toys so we spent longer refining the basics.’

‘The people of the Thirteenth Tribe we found aren’t from one of these Successor States are they?’ another pilot checked. ‘I heard they were refugees or something?’

‘They’ve been settled a while so I wouldn’t call them refugees any more but you’re right they aren’t from the Successor States or the Inner Sphere for the most part’ Gaeta told him. ‘From what they tell us when the Star-League collapsed most of its military decided to head into exile rather than get caught up in the power struggles that followed’ he said. ‘They headed hundreds of light-years towards the Galactic core and eventually established new colonies there. They evolved and were moulded into a society where a military caste ruled over a highly stratified society with scientist, trader, technician and labourer castes below them’ he explained. ‘They were also formed into twenty competing Clans which fought each other for influence, personal honour and just for the hell of it.’

‘I get the third reason’ a Viper pilot interjected, ‘the other two are lost on me’ he joked.

Gaeta smiled. ‘Eventually one of the Clans started to adopt a different way of doing things from the others’ he told them. ‘They started to free up the caste system allowing people to move between them and they became increasingly vocal critics of some of the other policies implemented by the Clan Leadership saying it went against the principles of the Star-League their ancestors had fought to protect’ he said. ‘This Rogue Clan eventually declared it was seceding from the others initiating an all-out war around two-hundred and twenty years ago which became a fight for survival as the other Clans attempted to wipe them out’ Gaeta continued. ‘Some of them got away with much of their military equipment and a few warships and transports and after being hunted for months they eventually headed back to the Inner Sphere’ he said, changing the image to show a course that led from right at the top of the map, into the Inner Sphere then back out skirting the edge of the most populated part of human space until it arrived at a world on the opposite side of the Inner Sphere to the clans.

‘That’s some trip given their drives’ the ECO who had spoken earlier stated.

‘Yes it took them a couple of years because of the indirect route’ Gaeta agreed. ‘They also stopped off at several worlds to seize supplies and in one case they liberated some slave camps and freed a number of political prisoners held in Detention by the Successor State called the Draconis Combine.’

‘Slavery?’ a bridge officer from Pegasus said in surprise.

‘It was apparently illegal during the Star-League era but in the Neo-Feudal Successor States it isn’t unknown we’re told’ Gaeta responded. ‘Anyhow this rogue clan, now reinforced by thousands of very grateful people they recently freed decided they couldn’t stay in the Inner Sphere and so after establishing a temporary colony to gather supplies and prepare for a few years they eventually headed off again on another long journey which ended when they found a nice isolated planet in the middle of a Nebula fifteen-hundred light-years from most everyone else... they thought.’

‘And then one day a Raptor Pilot frakked up some jump-coordinates and accidentally found them’ Racetrack said loudly. ‘Yeah I admit it’ she said. ‘I frakked up but face it you all wish your successes played out half as well as my failures’ she declared to a chorus of laughter.

Gaeta laughed as well. ‘They called the planet New Circe because their colony back with the Clans was called Circe’ he told them. ‘They call themselves the Star-League-In-Exile because they consider themselves the last true remnants of what was basically a Golden Age for Earth and its colonies’ he continued, ‘and they also still call themselves Clan Wolverine too because the other clans tried to erase them from the history books and the galaxy and they failed’ he said.

‘Fleeing from the Clanner Tyranny, the last of the Star League Defence Force leads the survivors of attempted genocide on a lonely quest looking for a hidden planet in the ass-end of the galaxy to call home’ Racetrack said. ‘Someone should turn it into a TV show or something’ she said.

‘What was the planet like Racetrack?’ someone called out.

‘It was cold and they only let me, Skulls and the marines out of the military base they put us in for a little while, but you’ve got no frakking idea how good it was to look up and see sky and breath proper air outside even just for a few minutes’ the Raptor pilot replied. ‘And we saw a city, an actual city full of people just going about their business’ she added wistfully.

‘Do we know the population of New Circe?’ someone asked from the back.

‘Seven-hundred and fifty thousand’ Gaeta replied, ‘no more than a medium-sized city back in the Colonies but that’s still fifteen times what we have in the fleet’ he said. ‘When they got there only twenty-percent of New Circe was supposedly inhabitable because of the climate but they’ve been heating the planet up gradually by releasing chlorofluorocarbons into the atmosphere and it’s up to thirty percent now and rising, room for hundreds of millions already even if the oceans are pretty big.’

‘I want to run a few miles in a straight line again’ a pilot said quietly, ‘running round and around a ship isn’t the same’ she said.

‘They’ve offered to let us land a few thousand people at a time’ Racetrack told her. ‘They seemed okay, not that I could understand a damn word most of them were saying’ she admitted.

‘We’re still being followed by the Toasters’ a supply officer pointed out.

‘Yeah but if we jumped into the nebula where the planet is they would never find us’ Racetrack told him. ‘You should have seen all the interference on our DRADIS there, we were nearly right on top of the planet and still nearly missed it’ she said. ‘They’ll go right on by and the kicker is if they follow the course the Fleet was on they’re heading the wrong frakking direction because Earth isn’t the way we thought it was.’

‘So much for frakking superstition then’ someone else muttered. ‘I knew that Arrow of Apollo, constellations providing a map and course thing was a load of crap’ he opined.

‘You know I’ve been waiting but nobody has asked the right questions yet’ Skulls said loudly. ‘I’ll tell you anyway’ he continued, ‘yes they have bars and yes they have good looking women’ he informed them to a chorus of laughter.

‘What about the men Racetrack?’ a female officer checked.

‘Tall and hunky, and if you like blonds I saw plenty’ Racetrack replied.

‘Well none of us are going anywhere until Starbuck and the others get back from Caprica, and it’s up to the President and Admiral Adama to decide what we’re doing then anyway’ Gaeta said, ‘but in the meantime I’m authorised to tell you that Racetrack is going back to New Circe to accept an offer for one of their warships to join the fleet to provide additional protection to our civilians’ he announced. ‘We’re expecting company people so I suggest we all look sharp and act like it because if we show up the Colonial Fleet in front of the Thirteenth Tribe the Admiral will have us all thrown out of an airlock one by one’ he said then fixed his gaze on Racetrack. ‘Oh and the XO told me that if you manage to get lost again he’s going to have you cleaning this hanger floor with your tongue’ he told her, stamping his foot onto the metal deck.

‘She’s used it for worse things’ an anonymous voice declared to more laughter.

‘Only when I was really drunk’ the pilot responded with a shrug.


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Comments/Suggestions/Abuse?

The chapters from now on will be split into three sections like my XSGCOM Fic, they get pasted back together on fanfiction.net

Histories and maps here, more on the Wolverines here, here and here.

Very good to see this back. Just this time can we please see some basestars burn, please?

Aye... please slice & dice some basestars & teach Cavil some lessons in manners ...

TOC :

Hunted Tribes at fanfiction.net Chapters
ReDacted
AUTHOR_______CHAPTER________TITLE____________Description_________________
Hotpoint. Tech Thread -.Techs -_Items

Hotpoint. Prologue -.Whoops -_RaceTrack&Skulls, GlitchNAV, Planet, Contact, TaurianConcordat, Colonials
Hotpoint. CH_01a -.NewCirce -_Jennifer&Franks, ArtificialGrav, Millennia, GrecianKobollians, Baltar, Adama
Hotpoint. CH_02a -.Galactica -_Gaeta, 2000Colonies, FTLs&Lasers, Clans, Slavery, RaceTrack, TongueCleaning
Hotpoint. CH_02b -.Pegasus -_Lee&Hotdog, SLS Yukori, Cloud9, Gina, Tigh&Ellen, Roslin&Tory, Cottle
Hotpoint. CH_02c -.Galactica -_Thorpe&Adama, ImprovedHumans, Genes, Roslin, RevelationsUnderWraps
Hotpoint. CH_03a -.Galactica -_Starbuck&Tyrol, NukeFusion, Fighters, Thorpe&1s, Agnostic&Atheists, Monos
Hotpoint. CH_03b -.New Circe -_Racetrack, Roslin&Tory, Jennifer, SL PowerArmour, Vaun, Birch, LBX Cannons
Hotpoint. CH_03c -.Cloud9 -_Baltar&Barman, DrunkenLout, Gina&MindSix, Vote&Sex, DumpedUp, RomoLampkin
Hotpoint. CH_04a -.New Circe -_McEvedy, SchoolTour, Roslin&Apollo, Troy, Instants&Accidents, Kara&Kat
Hotpoint. CH_04b -.Galactica -_Sharon&Thorpe, Talks&Religion, BloodTypes, HeraAlive, Fight, BondsWomanOfClan
Hotpoint. CH_04c -.Colonial1 -_Thorpe&Roslin, Cassidy, Lampkin, NewCirce, TrialByCombat, BackTrk
Hotpoint. CH_05a -.NewCirce -_Tigh&Adama, PegasusDisgraced, Chivalry, Tylium, WeaponsUpgrade, DominoCenturions
Hotpoint. CH_05b -.NewCirce -_Tyrol&Cally, Maintenance, Seelix, Starbuck, Laser, Geoff, DinnerDate
Hotpoint. CH_05c -.NewCirce -_Sharon&Helo, AssistantTranslator, GlowyIntercoursely, SpinyFlaw, Gemenese
Hotpoint. CH_06a -.McEvedy -_Adm.Franks, Roslin&Adama, Vaun, BT Weapons, Rescue&Salvage, FTLs, Glow&Box
Hotpoint. CH_06b -.SLDF Bunker -_Biers&Sharon, BondsWoman, Karl, Talks, Thorpe, TheModels, Nordenskiold
Hotpoint. CH_06c -.Galactica -_Tigh&Adama, Lee's Ammo, Thorpe, McEvedy, SLDF, Cally, To Kobol
Hotpoint. CH_07a -.Colonial1 -_Roslin, Quorum, Bagot&Wenutu, Zarek, CulturalID, Tory, Lee&Franks
Hotpoint. CH_07b -.Galactica -_Tigh&Kara, Adama&Hotdog, Seelix&Tyrol, Cally&Cale, Marcie, Cottle&Ljunberg
Hotpoint. CH_07c -.Cloud9 -_Kaarlo, MollyCoddling, Gina, Asylum, Disguise, FHell, Hiding, WordOfHonour
Hotpoint. CH_08a -.Kobol -_Adama&Ripper, Thorpe, TempleOfAthena, Radiocarbon, RaceTrack, Raider, Plans
Hotpoint. CH_08b -.NewCirce -_Julia Brynn, Kacey, JobAssignments, NewHomes, Neighbors, Shrines&Oracles
Hotpoint. CH_08c -.ScorpiaShipyard -_CyrannusSys; ColonialSurvivors, RaceTrack, Anders&Tyrol, Thorpe&Cylon
Hotpoint. CH_09a -.ScorpiaOrbit -_EnergyShots, DeFoe, PulseFire, Starbuck, Raiders, Cavil_6&8, GroundPounders
Hotpoint. CH_09b -.EridanusValley -_Aquaria; Tyrol&Cally, Marines&Centurions, SLDF, We're Frakked, Cale
Hotpoint. CH_09c -.Aquaria -_Gaeta&Tigh, Adama, McEvedy, RulesEngagements, Kirghiz&BaseStars, Defoe, BOOM!!!
Hotpoint. CH_10a -.SLDF Bunker -_Biers&Sharon, Gina&Kaarlo, Lawyer Romo Lampkin, Trial, BSG Valkyrie
Hotpoint. CH_10b -.DeepSpace -_Tigh&Adama, Ambrosia, Salvage, Parts&Raptors, StealthStar, Viper MKs, Raiders
Hotpoint. CH_10c -.NewCirce -_Vaun&Franks, FuturePlans, Munchkins, Assimilation, Wolverines, JumpDrives, Jumps
Hotpoint. CH_11a -.Colonial1 -_CityState, Gray&Roslin, Wages&Currency, Munitions, Genetics, CylonDetector&Tech
Hotpoint. CH_11b -.DeepSpace -_McEvedy&Cale, BirthControl, Calandra, ATS, Gaeta&Adama, Supplies&Survivors
Hotpoint. CH_11c -.CylonColony -_Cavils, Fivers&Thirteenthers, Threats, Brothers, Centurions&Praetorians
Hotpoint. CH_12a -.DeepSpace -_DeFoe, Survivors, Girl, Hugs, Gibson, Emily, BashingHeads&Helmets
Hotpoint. CH_12b -.New Circe -_Kaarlo&Baltar, Lampkin, Gina's PTSD, Playa, Interview, Fist-Fight, Warning
Hotpoint. CH_12c -.DeepSpace -_Dave&Cale, StagParty, Gibson, Aztec, Seelix&Marcie, Cally, Starbuck&Adama
Hotpoint. CH_13a -.Galactica -_Dradis, Raiders, 12 Basestars, Gaeta, DamnCivvies, Tigh, Adama&Caprica6, Trap
Hotpoint. CH_13b -.SLS Yukon -_Zughoffer Weir, Yukon, Basestars, Battle Royale, Broadsides, Bismarck, Cylons
Hotpoint. CH_13c -.Galactica -_Adama, Missiles, Pegasus, Kara, Vipers&Kirghiz, Defoe, Tridents, Basestars, Tigh
Hotpoint. CH_14a -.New Circe -_Roslin&Adama, FrakLampkin, Cylons, Armistice Line, 120 Battlestars, Gina
Hotpoint. CH_14b -.Cale Farm -_McEverdy, Cally&Cale, BePrepare, Geoff, KitScout, Vaun&Franks, Zug&Weir, Seyla
Hotpoint. CH_14c -.DeepSapce -_Hadrian&Tigh, CylonDetector, FalsePositive, SOP, Tyrol&Anders, MadeCOLONEL.
Hotpoint. CH_15a -.NewCirce -_MediaFenzy, Quorum, Adama, Riots, LordVaun, Roslin&Zarek, Lee, Bagot&Robin
Hotpoint. CH_15b -.SLDFBunker -_Vaun&Thorpe, Nordenskiöld, Tory&Anders, FakeRecords, Biers&Cavil, Sharon Freed
Hotpoint. CH_15c -.ColonialCS -_Kara&Helo, NewCylons, ViperLaserFire, Bottles, FrakkingSadist, BrigFoodSucks
Hotpoint. CH_16a -.CaleFarm -_Large Families, Cally&Geoff, CylonFivers, Lampkin, McManus&Baltar, Mistletoe&Santa
Hotpoint. CH_16b -.NewCirce -_Shipyard, Refits&Repairs, Racetrack&Skulls, Politics, KirghizFTRs, Gibson
Hotpoint. CH_16c -.CCityState -_Dexter&Roslin, Adama, Playa, LB X AutoCannon, Gina's Case, TheFiver, Religion
Hotpoint. CH_17a -.CCityState -_Julia Brynn, Romo Lampkin, NeedAJob, Resume, PettyCash, Retainer, NewJobTitle
Hotpoint. CH_17b -.CityMcKevdy -_Vaun&Syndey, PunishmentFitCrime, SharonValerii, Lamprey, IronyOfLife
Hotpoint. CH_17c -.NewCirce -_Adm. Adama, Galactica&Pegasus, CrewMorale, Gaeta, MissingTigh, Gray, Economy&Tylium
Hotpoint. CH_18a -.NewCirce -_ McEvedyCity; Julia&Lampkin, Kacey, PiratePetey, PeterGayle, Taurians, BondsmanSharon
Hotpoint. CH_18b -.NewCirce -_ Adama&Franks, Galactica&ZughofferWeir, Cylons&Electronics, IronWombs, Tactics
Hotpoint. CH_18c -.ColonialOne -_ Roslin&Wallace, WorkStrikes, Guns&Butter, FinalFiveMopes, FrakkingDerangedCylons
Hotpoint. CH_19a -.FranklinH AF -_ Kara&Katraine, Frakker, Puasha&Lee, AvarFTR, PressVultures, Fusion&Tylium







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Very cool! How would most BT fighters do against Cylon fighters?

Laugh off the gun fire with magic Btech armor while the barest touch of even a small laser suffices to blow Raiders into smithereens?

Nothing short of nukes works for the Cylons. And once they use them, the gloves are off.

IIRC, in the original, the Vipers/Raider's cannons were each roughly equivalent to a RAC/2 but a lot, lot, lighter/smaller massing. Mostly due to being coilguns/railguns that massively accelerated the rounds, while still giving it the rate of fire of a machine-gun.

Still though, considering even a RAC/2 (or 2 or 3) only does 12 dmg at maximum, if it gets lucky, that's still going to only really chip paint when it comes to the true monsters in the Heavy & Assault classes of ASFs. And even a Medium ASF would likely shrug at least one good burst off and be able to limp off after spinning end over end & vaporizing whoever irritated it. Also we need to remember that ASF laser weapons (and even the ballistic ones) are way WAY longer ranged. A standard large laser, as mounted on an ASF, doesn't even need to be a ER Large, would have spanned the distance between the Galactica & the Basestars waaay back at Ragnar, and then some.

This is why in my fics, I classed nBSG's fighter guns as BT machine guns. They do the same damage as AC/2s but are substantially shorter ranged. And despite high rates of fire and long bursts, nBSG fighters tend to get killed by only a few actual bullet hits. The vast majority of bullets fired tend to hit nothing.

It wasn't all that long ago that, to be considered an educated Englishman or American, you had to know both Latin and Greek, and you had to know them before you finished high school.

Of course, that attitude faded in the USA nearly 100 years ago, and nearly 80 years ago in England...

Pity.

Ed.

I took Latin in Jr. High, it was last public school in British Columbia to teach it. Heard the teacher retired about 4 years after I left which is a shame. That one class boosted my grade in English, Science and Humanities a full letter because I could always figure out what was being asked by breaking the unknown word down into it's Latin root.

Yeah. Right now we got people passing through collage and they can't even write a decent essay.

Here be Dragons.

Hmm... Fleet...

One York-class, One Black Lion Class, A Texas Class and a McKenna Class.

Well. I wonder which is going to join them? The fanboy in me wants the McKenna-class just for the joy of seeing it broadside the Basestar with its Heavy Naval PPCs.

Well, good rewrite so far Hotpoint. Now how to say this without being crazy...

The fanboy inside my soul says if there are Omnimechs, why can't starships could have the omni design? It fits the SLiE profile, ships that can be modified easily. Also said fanboy wants Cylons to fear humans. A total broadside of Naval PPC and Lasers would tell them not to mess with humanity...

Aaron, I think they have omnifighters. Those could be a type of starship.

Yes, they do, but those are counted as strike craft everywhere else. Let me tell you something, even though the Omni technology has a few major disadvantages when it comes to maintianing and anything on the base structure, if you could put it on a Warship chassis, say a Texas for example, you could basically have a whole load of those and basically be all nasty when you need to and modify essentially on the fly with specialized fleet tenders who's job is to dock with these guys and have the modifications placed on. Omni technology is a good technology overal, but the problems of it also destroy a lot of its power.

An Omni Battlestar would be an amazing sight to behold! [imagines Naval ER-PPCs and Lasers blasting into a Basestar hull, causing mass destruction and chaos]

When and where (which school, that is) was that?