Chapter 15a Ash's Boomstick. CH_15a -.Caprica-_ StealthProbes, Hoskins, Takedown, Kent, Hayes&Adar, Korbynes, LiveFeed, Naxos; Blake, ChitChat Chapter 15 Caprica City Caprica Twelve Colonies During the prelude of the attack by the Odyssey on the Picon Anchorage, a number of small stealth probes had been released into the Cyrannus system by the battlecruiser. The destruction of the Colonial Space Station and the horrific aftermath had allowed for the tiny crafts to move into pre-programmed positions close by the major planets undetected by Colonial Patrols. From their positions they were able to, on a regular basis, download the entire databases of filched communiqués, television broadcasts, military and civilian radio chatter and scans of the entire system. The data was shunted via subspace bursts, to the Tau’ri satellites set up within the area designated specifically for this job, each of which dropped their information into the receiver stations at the SGC and Area 51. All the intelligence gathered within these bursts was stored en masse at the Crucible deep underground. The probes were an incredible asset to the SGC allowing every move the Colonials made to be analysed to the nth degree by the men and women assigned to the code breaking and Intel departments worldwide. Already every ship movement in the triple star system was being watched with interest as increasing numbers of warships and fighters were activated or rushed through construction allowing for the numbers of losses taken by the Liberation Fleet to be made up and in some cases improved upon. However, even as this information was being gathered, a second set of data dumps were being carefully cracked by the immensely powerful crystalline supercomputers dedicated to the electronic warfare sections of Homeworld Security. At the lowest level of the massive underground base a dozen of the best code crackers in the world had finally completed their mission. “This is getting repetitive.” “Come on, this is the best part of the job! The quicker we get into their channels the quicker we get the bonus and time off and give the job over to Tolliver and his morons,” one of the men said. “Although I don’t think it matters anymore.” The man sat up straight at his console and began hammering away at the twin keyboards in front of his monitors. Strings of coding began to break apart and reassemble overwriting the original codes with text and numbers recognisable to them as Colonial Standard. “Hoskins, heads up! We need the translation matrix online.” “It’s already online. Just feed it through.” “Christ almighty,” the chief cried out. “It’s worked! Oh shit…” Pressing his hand to his headset he activated the radio’s tiny transmitter. “Command this is Takedown section.” “We read you, Takedown,” answered the voice from the Crucible’s command section. “Sir, we’ve done it. The last of the confidential codes have been broken,” the Chief replied hastily. “The entire classified network is at our disposal and Sir, that last group of codes we were unable to identify? We now have total access to the Colonial President’s secure communications line to their Admiralty.” “Repeat that, Takedown,” a deeper authoritarian voice spoke up. “G…General O’Neill, we… we’ve managed to break the last of the wireless command codes of the Colonial high command. The entire network is opened to us. We’ve also been able to crack the Presidential wireless line to their command stations on the other planets.” “Excellent work, Takedown. Send up the information ASAP. We don’t have long.” O’Neill replied. “One you have ended your shift, make sure the shift supervisor reports to me as soon as he’s off duty.” “Understood Command,” the chief replied. “Sir, I have to warn you however that once we have finished setting the information into the relays and inputting the finished codes into the system as well as setting it up for use that their rotating command and control codes will render this crack null and void within six to eight hours. We’re also looking at them rewriting their codes and us having to begin this again, which will mean several weeks minimum before we have any new Intel.” “Understood, Takedown. Keep at it we’ll need the rest of the command channels as soon as possible. Command Out.” “What do you think they’ll use the comms system for?” asked one of the code crackers. “I mean as soon as anything gets transmitted they’ll know that something’s up especially as it’ll probably be in English. Even if they do manage to tie in the translators with the main systems we don’t have authentication codes to make them do anything.” “I’m guessing some kind of psychological work,” another replied. “What, like showing them Barney?” “Dave, you really need to get out more.” *** “Mr. President, we have a positive hack into the Colonial president’s communications system,” Major Kent of the Crucible announced. “Unfortunately, the codes will only be active for six more hours. If we want to pull this off it will have to be now, or again in several weeks and that’s only if we can break the next coding.” “It’s something that needs doing, Major. Bring the probe online and break the encryption. It’s time for me to have a little chat with my erstwhile other within the colonies,” Hayes replied. “Plug the transmission into the Crucible, the SGC, the POW camps and the IOA intranet. I want as many people as possible to hear this.” “We could interrupt most of the world’s tele-visual and radio-based communications, allow for the entire planet to see the conversation. Same with at least three of the Colonials worlds.” “Hmm,” Hayes mused. “How quickly could you override Caprica’s main broadcasts and transmit our own?” “We’re ready to do so, on your order, Sir. We’ve been modifying the software on the probes for a wide spread dissemination of the transmission. The entirety of their capital city, the surrounding countryside and any ships in the way will receive the transmission from Probe Two. Probe Three we’re realigning to inform the area around Picon and the survivors of their attack fleet. As for Probe One, we are leaving as is.” “In case the others are found.” “That’s about the size of it,” Kent replied. “We’re ready when you are.” “Put the call through, Major.” The immensely powerful planet-based subspace transmitters sent the open transmission through hyperspace to the probes scattered throughout the Colonial system. As programmed, one of those probes linked into the communications line between Picon and Caprica, one that was still active and in use by the survivors still on the planet’s surface and one that was easily hacked by the Tau’ri’s best Electronic Warfare officers. Dozens of miles below the probe a single red telephone began to ring. Presidential Bunker Colonial President’s Officers Caprica City Caprica *Buzz* Adar looked angrily at the telephone. His hotlines had been ringing off the hook for days sending him more information, requests and communications from across the entire system. A thousand and one things were dividing his attention shortening his already threadbare temper. Illnesses, shortages, the demand for new and improved ships and defences from all sides, not to mention increased interference from the quorum and religious sections of the colonies, were wearing him down. Worse yet had been the time since the last attack by the Tau’ri. The waiting had begun to grate on the people. The mood had darkened, with many counting the next day as if it would be the last and he couldn’t blame them. However, it was costing the economy once again causing runs on some supplies as more and more pilots refused to fly in case they were caught in battles between the two sides. With so much going into relief and rebuilding efforts, the common people of the colonies were losing out. Worse yet his own people on Caprica were rumbling about his actions leading up to the war and afterwards. He had managed to empty his offices of anyone except his direct aides for a few hours to allow him to catch his breath. Never in his life had he expected to find that he would wish to have forgone the presidency. Direct orders had everyone bar the Chiefs of Staff and the Vice-President to kept away from him a while so he could breathe. Unfortunately it seemed that one of them must have been contacting him through his main offices high above the bunker. Slamming his hand down onto one of the dozen phones on the desk he growled into the phone. “Yes, Miss Alexander, what is it?” “You seem to have mistaken me for someone else, President Adar.” The voice on the other end of the phone was not the usual happy tone of his redheaded secretary/mistress but that of an amused male. “I’m afraid that you won’t be able to get through to anyone on this line until we conclude our little chat.” “Who are you? How the frak did you get onto this line?” Adar shouted into the phone, his baring lost completely by the sound of an unknown man on the end of the line. “As we’ve never been formally introduced,” said the man on the phone. Adar couldn’t quite place the accent. “I decided that it might in fact be time to. My name is Henry Hayes President of the United States of America and spokesperson for the majority of the Planet Earth.” “What kind of joke is this! Whatever it is, it’s not funny in the slightest!” “Its no joke Adar,” Hayes answered. “At this moment, we control your presidential lines and the direct lines in and out of that nice big house of yours. It’s time that we had a talk, Mr President. Or can I call you Dick?” Hayes asked. His voice was dripping with sarcasm that his counterpart could literally feel over the communication’s line. “You see ‘Dick’,” Hayes continued, “you and your fleet have been insulting and downright unfriendly to the people of my world and so I’ve decided that it’s time to sort this out once and for all.” “I see. What exactly would you like to talk about, Henry?” *** Already President Adar had now placed his line on speaker phone, activating the clandestine recording system before hitting the alert button that would signal the secretaries, aides and any guards in the area that assistance was needed. In seconds, his security as well as numerous aides was filling the offices. A few higher placed ones were using other phones calling Colonial Intelligence. Entering the Presidential office, Jeffery Korbynes got over his shock within a matter of moments. What was happening was impossible. However, one look in the eyes of his President convinced him that he didn’t believe this was a hoax. “This is Agent Korbynes,” he hissed over his wireless communications device. The walkie-talkie produced static for a couple of seconds before he received a response. “Stanchion here, sir.” We have a security breach. I want an immediate lockdown on the Presidential building-no one in or out. I want everybody, telephone and wireless line identified and accounted for in the next ten minutes.” “What’s the nature of the security breach?” The voice on the other side was all business. “Nature to be determined. Presidential government Communications have been compromised. Trace it. Phone line Caprica One.” “Understood. We’re on it.” *** “Well ‘Dick’, I would like to know what exactly you and your people were thinking when you decided to attack my planet and kill more than a hundred million of our people without a second thought?! Not only that, but you then proceeded to send another group of ships to make an attempt to nuke an entire continent! Now I know that we never attacked your worlds nor did we try to make you bow down to us. So what’s the thinking here?” Adar stood up still talking as he approached the door before the guards could break in silencing them with a hand gesture, “What are you talking about? I never authorised a second strike against your population. This is another transparent attempt to prove that we’re the bad guys again, ‘Henry’,” he answered getting comfortable now with the reality that someone had compromised security to a degree unheard of. Quietly, he ordered the secretary to take notes of what was being spoken even as he recorded the conversation. Guards were ordered to fetch any and all ministers or high ranking officers within the building. “Have Baltar and Corman get here directly,” he whispered. “I want to know what the hell is going on around here.” He focused on his counterpart once more speaking to him. “The footage we have of a stripped down Battlestar says otherwise. It was a simple attack that murdered another of our cities for no other reasons other than they seemed to want to. It’s fortunate for us that we managed to blow a hole through that ship. The ship ran with its tail between its legs but believe me, ‘Dick’, that commander if we find them will be put on trial for her actions as will any of the crew that have survived.” Adar replied as he sat down. “I never ordered the attack on your world. Anything that was done against orders should and will be considered, and if necessary prosecuted by our own people in accordance with Colonial law. Your illegal government doesn’t have that right, Henry.” “We have every right, Dick. A Colonial ship under your colours fired on civilian targets and murdered civilian people on our planet. Any and every country on this world will be more than willing to attest to the fact that the country that was fired on, will be given the lead on prosecuting the captain and crew of the Battlestar Pegasus and whatever ships were under her command at the time of the attack.” Adar looked around his office as more and more personnel began to arrive. Aides and secretaries of all kinds were furiously scribbling down notes on pads while other personnel were setting up a wiretap to trace the telephone call. With luck the ship or whatever the Tau’ri were using to hack into the President’s private lines would be quickly found and cornered by the orbital defences. *** Adar was angry. If what this man said was true, then no wonder they had struck back with such viciousness. Given the humility of the defeat by a handful of Tau’ri warships against the fleet, he could understand a Colonial officer striking out in justifiable retaliation. But such actions went against his agenda of bringing the Thirteenth colony back with a minimum of violence as had been the original plan. “I want to know who the hell sent the orders for the Pegasus to attack the Earth again. Find whoever were the last officers to see her and order them here ASAP.” Adar ordered quietly before turning back to his desk. “The Colonies don’t recognise your laws and court, Henry. By Colonial law you have no jurisdiction as you represent an illegal government that is not recognized by Colonial law. Do the right thing and if you do find them send them back our way. It’ll be easier on you in the long run. Besides the ship’s Commander is more or less following orders against an illegal and hostile colony. Can you really put someone in the dock for that, Mr President?” “If one of our officers nuked innocent civilians, I’d pull the switch myself.” Pulling the switch? He wasn’t sure what that meant but he got the inference. “Then maybe you can give us the Captain who so graciously decided to destroy one of our planets by causing debris to rain down on one of our most heavily inhabited worlds. After all, he murdered a great many more people than a single one of our missiles could possibly do to your world!” “The difference there ‘Dick’, is that your people deliberately targeted entire areas of our world with planet killing missiles en masse. Apparent your policy is that if you couldn’t have it, no one should. We struck a military outpost and military ships only. Collateral damage has been part of warfare for a long time and if we could have prevented the destruction of that world, then, by God, we would have done so. But unlike your people we would have helped to stop the catastrophe.” “Oh, frak.” Adar heard one of the aides mutter to him. He almost had the fool kicked out but the aide’s next words stopped him. “The media are playing this live. Every single channel is playing this conversation word for word. The Tau’ri must be transmitting it across the entire system. There’s no delay! Their ship must be only a few million miles above the planet,” he hissed. Adar stifled a curse. *** The Battlestar Naxos and its combat group of ten heavy warships tasked to protect the Colony homeworlds and specifically Caprica went on high alert. “This is not a drill! All Vipers scramble. Repeat, enemy vessel suspected in close orbit of Caprica.” “What the frak is going on?” demanded Commander Adrien as he entered the bridge. ‘Couldn’t even have a ten minute break’ he thought bitterly. “Sir,” his XO started. “We’re receiving a transmission from an unknown source that has compromised communications on Caprica.” ‘That can’t be right, in fact it’s impossible’ he thought. “To all ships. Commence active DRADIS sweep. Probable hostile in immediate areas sections Dashu one through eight. If target acquired, weapons free, repeat weapons free. Do not target, repeat do not target civilian craft unless confirmed enemy lock. All ships acknowledge.” “Our squadron is acknowledging.” “Good. Get me Caprica Defence Command.” “Commander, Admiral Blake is on the line,” the XO responded. The surprise in his voice was evident. If Blake was on the line then the alert was very serious and very real. He glanced at communications and blanched. On almost every single civilian and military channel a conversation was being broadcast between the President and another man. Adrien swore under his breath. Whatever was happening this was real. A Tau’ri ship was likely in the immediate area and couldn’t even be seen which meant that it had a very impressive stealth field. His ships could well be under their guns right now and if they fired first one of his ships was dead. The story of the initial liberation fleet’s slaughter had reach most of the higher level officers despite the clampdown by Colonial Defence Command, the word had gotten out: small ships with energy shields able to deflect nukes, energy weapons and super nukes, fighting capability beyond visual range, the one ship that literally destroyed the Picon anchorage and incidentally the planet itself. Bio-weapons. These thrice accursed Earth people were extremely dangerous and needed to be put down like rabid dogs. This is Admiral Steven Blake. Identification Caprica-Nine-Seven Eight-Sigma-Eight-Seven-One-One. Confirm.” “Identification confirmed, sir.” Commander, six minutes ago the President of the Twelve Colonies received a telephone call on his secured line. The caller has confirmed himself as being President Hayes of Earth. This call is happening real time. Your orders are to find that probe or more likely a ship and incapacitate or if necessary destroy it. Use all means necessary to acquire or destroy. The second defence squadron inbound on your location.” “Yes, Admiral.” The bridge was silent. “All Alert Vipers are away, sir.” “Maintain high alert. Find that ship!” *** The President remained stone-faced but the fact he was being played by someone far better at this game than he was galling. This had to be a well thought out plan, months in the making at the least and likely with inside help. “You destroyed a planet and its inhabitants,” Adar all but shouted. “There were billions on that world and a very small minority have survived or been saved by the actions of our own people. You complain that you had a few bombs hit your world when you have ravaged one of ours and caused untold pain on the rest of what we have left. Millions more are dying because of the damage you caused to our infrastructure and civilian facilities. That world held the majority of our best and brightest medical facilities and now we have less and less to treat the survivors. You have the nerve gall to take about a few lost cities when you infected the Colonies with a bio weapon!” “Sir, you need to keep him talking their transmission point must be extremely close,” a military attaché whispered. Adar nodded while Hayes screamed in his ear. “Bullshit! You have eleven worlds and the resources of God knows how many trillions of dollars, credits or whatever you use, and billions of people that can help the injured or sick. Yet you won’t because it doesn’t fit into your world view. We’ve seen your worlds Mr. President, and the peoples you claim to be held together so well by your Colonial Dictate. But for all your flowery words we know your worlds can’t stand each other. The fabric of your society is held together by fear and fear that we will win this war is tearing your society apart right now. That’s why you hate us, because we refused to bow down to your petty dictates. Your grand ignorance convinces you that you have every right to encompass our world without our say so.” “As the elected officials of the Twelve Colonies this government has the right to lead the entirety of the human race in all its versions. The Thirteenth Colony as we now know is your world is legally under our control at all times. The bastardisation of your race by outside influences has led to us having to take actions against the illegal and frankly incompetent governments of the countries of your planet.” “We didn’t elect you to your positions. You want to force our world to join you for whatever misguided reasons your burbling on about but the fact is that you have no clue what Earth is and you’re angry that we won’t simply bow down to you and your people and make it easy for you,” Hayes replied. “You’ve been told the history of this world and the simple fact we aren’t your thirteenth colony but you don’t seem to care. What you seem to have failed to understand ‘Dick’, is that the Tau’ri aren’t the overlords as you seem to be trying to convince your people.” “Ahh, yes. I wondered when this would come up. The fact is ‘Henry’, that we are well aware of the so-called ‘truth’ you’re claiming about your world. The very idea that you believe yourselves to be the first people as you call it is laughable at best and sacrilegious at worst. You and your cabal have deluded your own people, lied to them and poisoned the minds against their own brethren so that you can stay in power.” Adar answered quickly to every word of his adversary. It wasn’t just his phone that have been compromised but every single channel. He was walking in a minefield. Every word, every breath had to be perfect. “Illegal? Cabal? You really are some arrogant sons of guns, aren’t you?” Hayes snapped. “Let me enlighten you to something. Earth, my Earth isn’t some long-lost colony you’re convinced we are. We have geological and evolutionary history going back forty thousand years, evidence mankind and this means you as well, originated on Earth, not Kobol. In fact, when we presented this evidence in PEACEFUL FIRST CONTACT, your military tried to illegally confiscate an Earth vessel. You fired on the ship first, despite what you’ve told your colonies and yes we heard every lie you told after the Picon strike, and they defended themselves, embarrassed your military in the process and got away despite your best efforts. There are colonies of Humans spread throughout the galaxy and that not even half the story. In fact, Kobol was most likely a transplanted colony originating from Earth.” He paused for a second. “Shocking, isn’t it? Even if we were that Thirteenth tribe of yours, how could you possibly think that after three or four thousand years you could come back and try to absorb us back into the fold just because we ‘used to be’ part of your tribe? It-is- ludicrous- thinking and smacks of arrogance beyond belief. You think we would bow down to you because we’re supposed to? Others have tried,” he informed Adar. “They’ve learned the hard way that we bow down to no one."
Chapter 15b Ash's Boomstick. CH_15b -.LiveFeed-_ Adar&Hayes, StarFleetCommand, MoreChat; Krobynes, Adrien, BOOM!, O'Neill, IOA, Crucible “Again your people seem to have been misinformed you of the facts. We never claimed anything of the kind. The name Tau’ri comes from our enemies and then by our allies, both of which are magnitudes of times older than the combined ages of both our strains of humanity. Those races know a hell of a lot more about the universe than any of us could ever hope to. Your arrogance and vanity makes you dangerous to yourself more than us and sooner or later you’ll face someone that won’t take the actions of your people as kindly as we have. You should be thankful, ‘Dick’. I have ordered a measured response against a threat to our sovereignty. Anyone else around here would have simply wiped all life from your worlds and left nothing but rubble and corpses across every planet, outpost and ship you have.” There was a strange sound in the background that Adar couldn’t identify. “In case you’re wondering about that noise you just heard, that’s me leaning back in my chair. The fact is, Mr President that neither of our peoples will allow for us to continue in the way we have been. We want to keep our freedom and you want nothing more than a vassal state to improve a handful of worlds as the cost of one other, your own little empire. There is no way that Earth’s people will allow for what is basically a slave state to exist on this world. Most have fought too long and too had against that kind of thinking to allow it to reassert itself. We have a saying on this world , ‘Never Again’, which basically means that you have no chance converting Earth into another colony where you can bury your heels and strip of resources and technology.” “I’m sure you believe everything you’ve just said, Henry,” Adar said adding as much distaste and pity as he could muster through his growing anger. All I can ask if that you and your people come to your senses. The Quorum and the people won’t allow for the heresy of a non-affiliated human world to sit out there and dictate its terms to them. We’ve fought and won our place here against ourselves and outside threats. Can you really sit there and say that we can’t be allies? Both of us have those who fought and died to keep our planets secure. We’d be so much more if you would simply ally yourselves with your brothers and sisters allowing for a combined defence against any enemies that may decide to take us on. We can get over the incidents that have happened between us and continue on bringing every human world into a massive Colonial league protecting those that can’t protect themselves. Isn’t that what you and your people have wanted all these centuries, what your starships spent so long travelling from world to world trying to do before you fell into the barbaric state you’re in now.” Hayes tried desperately to keep a straight face afraid that his humour would infect his voice too much. It seemed that intelligence had been correct after all and that the Colonials had picked up all kinds of signals. He also noticed how the man was intent on trying to keep him talking. But starships? Nah, couldn’t be. But… “You’re referring to Starfleet command?” he asked. “We’ve seen your history, how you spread yourselves out among the stars. We’ve also seen how your alien enemies defeated you, pushing you back into a pre-industrial nation just now recovering. You are quite right that never again should be your adage, and that can only happen with the help of the colonies I do wish you could see that.” There was utter silence on the other end for perhaps ten seconds. Adar was completely elated. He’d struck a nerve. Starfleet Command. The words had gotten far more of a reaction than he had expected Hayes to show, incidentally proving that this was not a prank. But that held other implications that frightened him. This man had to be close possibly in orbit in some type of stealth ship. Aides and C.I. were furiously taking notes on the response of Hayes and the silence spoke volumes. “You really don’t understand us, do you Dick? The people of our world don’t want nor do they need your help. What you’re doing is-illogical.” Hayes was changing the subject, realized Adar as did the others in the room. More notes were taken. “We will not allow your people to continue to suffer the cruelties perpetrated by your governments. Your people will be liberated from the religious hypocrites that enslave your people and the government that has ruled them by fear.” “We have stood on our own for over ten thousand years and we’ll keep standing when your colonies have been turned to dust. You claim that we need you. The thing is, I think you need us. You need us to make your place in history. Not – going – to – happen. It’s a shame that your little sneak attack succeeded so well but its affects are not what you expected. Understand this Adar, when you push us we’ll push back and much harder than anything that you’ve face before. You think the Cylon war was bad. You have no idea what you’ve started.” Hayes sighed. “I decided to try this communiqué in hopes that we could come to an amicable agreement between our worlds before we were forced to do something that ‘you’ might all regret. But I guess that isn’t gonna happen, I can’t say we didn’t try.” “You and the misguided leaders of your world are too proud to see that we don’t want to continue to destroy the brave people of your forces. Give up now before we are forced to deal with you harshly and permanently. Your government is leading the people of the Thirteenth tribe to ruin. Surrender, come back and take your rightful place with your brethren.” Hayes finally let a smirk through. “Dick, we’re a technologically advanced world that has, I am proud to say, made up any losses that you had caused to our forces and introduced a hell of a lot of new tech to our world. Can you really say the same thing about your own? I tell you what, why don’t you surrender to us and let us bring you into the galactic eye properly before you really piss off the wrong people, cos, I gotta tell you that we aren’t even the biggest or nastiest people on the block.” “We’ve seen what has been sent against you and the devastation that set your world back so many thousands of years. You don’t have the ability anymore to hold onto your position nor your world if anything bigger comes along. Please understand Henry, I can only ask you one final time to accept your place as the Thirteenth Colony and to join us as together there’s nothing that humanity can’t do. There’s no need to continue killing each other.” “You keep saying that Dick, and maybe one day you might even believe it, but consider this. We fought off enemies time and again throughout the years and after each battle we have rebuilt to an extent that they would lose more and more against us.” “Don’t make us fight you again, Henry. We can take you sooner or later. Push us and we’ll annihilate the remainder of your planet and people. Just allow us to bring you into the Colonial sphere. Allow us to bring your world’s version of humanity into space amongst their brothers and sisters bring to an end the wars that plague you and your people across the planet. This will also be the last time I can make this request but please allow us to take control and bring you all into a time of prosperity undreamt of by the greatest of philosophers or finest of fools.” “I’m sorry, Dick. But I can’t allow a bunch of colonies take over the Home world.” *** “Korbynes,” he hissed over his wireless communications device. The walkie-talkie produced static for a couple of seconds before he received a response. “We found it!” Stantion transmitted. “The signal is coming from directly overhead. About hundred plus miles up. It’s one of our own sats. Their ship has to be on top of it, hard-wired.” ‘Yes, it had to be hardwired’ thought Krobynes. A hidden vessel with better stealth than he ever seen had to be up there with the speaker. That was the only possible explanation. Krobynes growled. “Pass it on.” With luck the ship could be taken intact along with the crew. Battlestar Naxos Caprica Orbit “Understood,” confirmed Adrien. “Command, stand by. Coordinates locked. Have Alert Vipers five and six target the satellite. Fire a couple bursts. If the Tau’ri are using their shields to somehow hide themselves then the bullets would bounce off and identify their exact position.” Yes, sir. DRADIS running hard scan.” And then all Hades would break loose. *** “And again I’m going to have to say no. We want our independence away from others. Time and again we’ve had to face false gods and psychotic human offshoots, so no we won’t be rolling over for you. Be wary that you are not the only ones that can rebuild your worlds and your fleet, but if we face you again then we will simply remove you by force from our space if you make us. Understand that we have the ability to bring the war to your worlds no matter what precautions you take, you won’t see us coming if you push this.” This time Hayes could be heard sighing through the telephone line. “Well that is all I think that we can do right now, so all I can say now is goodbye Mister President and of course to the gentlemen who are currently attempting to trace this call to wherever it is, which by the way is approximately two hundred and fifty miles directly above that little bunker you are sitting in piggybacking your one satellite.” The people around Adar began to look around in a panic as if they could sense they were being watched by some kind of camera or maybe a bombsight. Adar himself slowly stood up as the voice of his nemesis kept sounding across the telephone. Was this a trap? He was beginning to panic. If the Tau’ri had some weapon that could penetrate his hardened bunker…! “One thing I do want you to understand is that we are that close and what is about to happen here could have been much, much worse. “Goodbye Mister President. Think about what I said.” A short squeal of data sounded over the telephone line before going dead. *** High above the Presidential mansion, thousands of miles into space the transmission between the two Presidential offices ceased. The data packet controlling the Colonials at the end of the communiqué triggered a program buried within the cloaked probe near the Colonial communications satellite. Bullets from the first Vipers to start shooting, bracketed the probe but it was far too late. Seconds later, a bare patch of sky turned into a micro-sized sun as massive naquada explosion lit up the sky above Caprica for a few instances turning the night side into day. That brief second was all that was needed for the probe to fulfil its final mission. A high frequency burst of radiation, from the explosion emitted a massive EMP expanding through space slamming into facing side of the Colonial Capital world fusing every circuit and electronic device. From space, those unaffected by the EMP watched helplessly as the lights dotting the dark side blink out en masse as electricity supplies were interrupted. Ground and air vehicles simply ceased to function sending many careening out of control sending civilians and military alike to their deaths. It had only been by the Quorum’s previous orders to reduce air travel that many others who otherwise would have been in transit hadn’t been killed. However, that didn’t save the Colonial soldiers, sailors, pilots and civilians in close orbit nearby the detonation, the EMP scrammed the delicate instruments of smaller ships and civilian transport alike. More than a hundred ships simply stopped in orbit their systems as dead as those on the planet’s surface. Throughout the orbit defence about thirty percent of the structures and space stations froze in place their weapons and defences jammed or completely fried by the immense multi-megaton naquada enhanced nuclear blast. Older fighters and gunboats on manoeuvres in orbit drifted out of control their instruments totally dead along with their emergency systems. Within seconds the detonation had dissipated leaving the space around the planet dark and silent. Those few ships that survived the impact of the surge by luck or by design could only stare out into space forced to watch as the planet of Caprica became all but defenceless. Battlestars from everywhere would have to begin search and rescue as soon as possible or the consequences in terms of ships and crews would be catastrophic. Barely fifty miles from the probe the Battlestar Naxos took the brunt of the EMP directly. The Pacifica-Class warship lurched as her engines surged and shut down leaving her drifting high above the planet unable to move and unable to function at all but the very basic levels. All around her the alert vipers and raptors slip through space tumbling as their own systems simply died, the small vessels bouncing off of each other and out into space. *** Within the White House hundreds of light years away, Henry Hayes dropped his telephone handset into its cradle and sat back the eyes of a dozen men in the room fixed on his reactions. “God help us all.” Crucible Command Centre Homeworld Security Command Centre Nevada Watching the myriad of screens, O’Neill saw each of the planetary defences turn green as each went active. Hundreds of icons switched across to active bringing the planet’s entire defensive set-up online. From here on in shifts of pilots and warship crews would be on rotation, keeping the defences manned and operational at all times. A last command was sent by O’Neill through the system overrode the communication protocols between the Crucible and the newly designated IOA headquarters. Dropping into the chair in his office the room sealed as the single door slid shut making the room impregnable to anything except a dedicated plasma burst. Turning to the flat screen monitor regressed into the wall he slammed his hand down on the activation button the blank screen lighting up with the SGC icon still being used in place of a dedicated Crucible crest. “Reroute main communications grid to IOA headquarters. Put me through to the IOA council.” The main communications room locked into the IOA channels overriding the main systems and security council lockouts to put him through to the main meeting rooms. He was expecting two of the three heads of the oversight as well as a number of councilmen to be in place as the earlier summons to the chamber should have had them into place well before he had ordered the channel open. O’Neill waited relatively patiently as the secure channels were locked in and scrambled before they could transmit. O’Neill was more than slightly angry at the thought that the IOA’s actions were causing more and more deaths that could have been avoided by allowing the Crucible and the command staff to do their job, something that he was going to sort out one way or another. “General, the link up is secure we are ready on your order.” “Put me through Major and shut down all taps on the line.” “That’s... against Standard procedure Sir.” “Just do it, Paul.” The face of the IOA chairman burst into view. “Aah General O’Neill, I hope you have some good news to report, although with what I have been informed about the status of our defences I gather that it is not.” “Not a chance. The fleet engaged the Wraith at the right co-ordinates. The problem is they didn’t stop the Wraith. More than half the fleet is destroyed or heavily damaged and won’t be returning home in time to redeploy against the remaining hive ship that is currently headed right for our doorstep.” “That’s a problem, General.” “No Councillor it won’t be, as of now you and the rest of the Council will return command and control of the entire defence of this planet and its people to the Crucible where it belongs and you will stay out of the way until we have the Wraith and Colonial situation in hand.” “The military does not need to control...” “Bullshit, right here and now the military does need to control everything that we say and do when it comes to protecting this planet. Thanks to the mismanagement of the council and the rest of the IOA politicians, we’ve possibly lost yet another ship to an enemy when an attack using all the forces at our disposal would have saved almost every man and woman sent against the Wraith,” O’Neill interrupted. “If every decision we make to defend this world has to go through a committee then we run the risk of being second guessed or outright blocked from making the decisions that are needed to run and win this war.” “The IOA oversight was created just for this occurrence. this war is not a simple matter of borders and materials General. With the Colonials this is a matter of humanity as a whole not to mention the differences that separate our two powers so completely. The military does not have the necessary manpower nor the necessary viewpoints that will allow a cessation of hostilities before this planet loses his way of life or experiences total destruction.” “You are aware that the Colonials don’t care about our way of life. They admit that they want to replace our governments with theirs not to mention force their religion upon every person on this planet. We’ve had more than enough experience in the last decade to call upon to know exactly what we need to do to face the Colonials. Two of the best the SGC have are responsible for the fact that Earth is still intact not to mention the alliances between Earth and the Asgard, the remaining Jaffa Nation and the Hibridans. All of which are currently trading with us to allow us to continue to hold the line against the Colonials.” “But wasn’t it one of these ‘experts’ that is responsible for the war in the first place.” “No it wasn’t.” Jack replied, “No person on the Prometheus was responsible for the Colonials deciding that we’d make a nice little acquisition for the Colonial’s empire. Anything to do with that was from them and them alone.” “Then please explain General why you and Doctor Daniel Jackson are among those most wanted by the Twelve Colonies as war criminals for the attempt to subvert their entire civilisation through lies and propaganda.” “My own thoughts on that subject cannot be uttered in public, Sir.” O’Neill said shortly. “Doctor Jackson has more first contact experience than any other three people at the SGC outside of SG1. The problems that have formed between us and the Colonials might have been simple miscommunication. The fact that we were fired on as soon as we tried to leave their solar system leads me to more than believe that there was more accountability on their side than ours. Their own signal to Earth explained what they thought of this world and that they wanted nothing more than to ‘free us’ from the chains of the Tau’ri. Even if we tried to sit down and talk again it’ll be simply to dictate terms of our surrender to the Colonials and the only way to get to the Colonies is aboard a warship and none are available due to the incompetence of this body.” “It was our decision to keep several of our ships in reserve for just this sort of problem, the failure of the Fleet Command and its officers are nothing to do with the IOA,” the head scoffed again. “It’s the fact that we kept the Ajax and Prometheus within Earth’s solar system that will save the people of this world.” “So screw the crews of the warships?” O’Neill snarled. “The Wraith would have been stopped completely if even one more ship had been with the fleet, the Colonial volunteers were all but destroyed and both our ships have been crippled or damaged beyond repair and may not make it back before the Wraith arrive. What does that say about your damned orders, the fact that the Colonials have done more to stop the Wraith than you people? I will not allow for the moronic orders of a group of armchair admirals to risk this planet and its people. Now we have a choice here, keep your noses out of the military command of this planet and you won’t be removed from your positions on counts of treason, diverting of military assets in time of war and anything else I can pin on you.” O’Neill attempted to hold down the smirk that he could feel blossoming on his face as the three IOA officials gaped at him in shock and disgust. A threat like that they weren’t expecting from someone that was essentially supposed to be under their control. As long as the IOA were the controlling aspect of the SGC and it’s associated branches, the threat itself could be considered traitorous and treason and of itself. “How dare you...” “No, how dare you! The people of the SGC and the fleet have been dying by the dozens since the Stargate opened. The IOA is supposed to oversee the work we do and help us to continue doing it as efficiently as possible and a war is no place for discussions between the civilian and military. If every single decision and plan we make goes through the IOA then we may as well give us because I doubt anyone within the council has any clue of how to fight a real war let alone win one. So you are going to stop getting involved in the military decisions from now on and let us end this war sooner rather than later. You will be informed on what you need to know when you need to know it and that’s all, you can regulate the technical advances, the supply chains and the build up of our ground bases but do not get in the way of the fleet build up or the planning stages of any of the oncoming battles. That is the end of it.” “We will not be spoken to nor threatened like this, ‘General’. You can consider yourself relieved of command immediately until such time as you are replaced, transferred, or court-martialled.” “That will not happen, ‘sir’,” O’Neill growled out. “I have been around a very long time, I know a lot about the Armed Forces and what can and does happen. If you continue to interfere with our attempts to fight this war and win it, you will be dealt with. Don’t bother attempting to inform anyone about this, all records will have been erased before you can get to them and I can and do have iron clad depositions as to my whereabouts and movements if I have to bring them before a court. Now you have the choices, make one.” “If you think we will let this lie General you are very much mistaken.” “Do what you like but wait until this war is over and then you can hang me for all I care. This planet is under siege from multiple enemies and you have done nothing but get in the way since the IOA was formed. You keep to what you can do and we’ll keep to what we do best, saving the world even with idiots in charge.” “The IOA will continue to administer what is needed when it is needed and right now order is needed beyond anything else, the rest is unnecessary.” “Unnecessary?” O’Neill growled. “Saving the lives of the people on this planet is unnecessary? Putting our forces where we need to be the most is unnecessary you say? I say Bullshit! The deaths that happened in our fleet are what were unnecessary. Your continued interference is not wanted and I will not tolerate it any longer. You can do what you need do to keep the public in line and to keep the Colonials we’ve got locked up from making problems for the rest of us but you WILL leave the war to the rest of us.” “Very well O’Neill. We’ll write the orders giving the Crucible total control over the space forces and the SGC. But I hope beyond hope that you hang yourself with the rope we give you because even if you win this war you won’t come out of it intact or alive, this I promise you.” “You’re welcome to try Councillor; you’re welcome to try,
Chapter 15c Ash's Boomstick. CH_15c -.Geneva-_ McClusky&Hughes, O'Neill, Crucible, Davis, WraithsComing, Brian; CylonHub; Natalie&Six, Remember IOA Council Chambers Geneva “My God you really are that stupid?” The voice came from the doorway. Already seething, the IOA chairman shot a glance towards the British member of the council. He and his Russian compatriot had been late for the meeting due to ‘unforeseen circumstances’ leading to their absence from all but the very last seconds of the confrontation between the American delegate and that of the head of Planetary Defence. “Not now, McClusky.” “Oh, I think now is precisely the time we need to talk. Ladies and gentlemen could you clear the room please this may not be something the rest of you should witness.” The remaining members of the IOA council left the meeting room, heading out the main doors leaving the two men facing each other. They kept their silence until the doors were closed and the soundproof room once again sealed to the outside world. Chairman Hughes attempted to sit down and begin his statement he’d prepared for the British man. He wasn’t expecting the older man to bodily haul him out of his seat and across the room. “What the hell are you thinking?” “I am trying to keep this world from devolving into a maelstrom of military control over every part of our lives.” “By getting in the way of the war effort that might or might not be responsible for making sure that we stay free from the Colonials or anyone else that has designs on this planet? Seems to me you want to manage everything and everyone to your own liking, even if it means hamstringing those who actually know anything about protecting this damned planet. ” “They can’t...” “Can’t what Hughes? Can’t defend the planet without some kind of oversight or can’t try to end this war before it encompasses all thirteen worlds of both powers? Seems to me you have no idea of what the SGC and Homeworld security are capable of. You have read their reports and the records of O’Neill and his closest people, right?” “Yes I’ve read them, not much impressed me at all.” “You’ve read them closely enough to piss off a man who is seen by the entire militaries of more than two dozen countries as the man to follow against the Colonials, who if you seem to have forgotten don’t care that we want to stay separate from them. Oh and let’s not forget the simple fact that he could have you dead before the end of the day of he wants to.” “He could, but he wouldn’t dare.” “Yes he would, if you get in the way. Hughes you are an idiot. You haven’t read any of the files on him nor his people have you?” McClusky began. “The man is special forces trained, has killed more people than you probably met in your entire life and ordered the total destruction of a solar system to make sure an enemy fleet didn’t manage to destroy an ally feeding us valuable intelligence and more than likely later on coming for us as well.” “This is what I mean you fool. He’s too dangerous to be allowed to continue in place as the commander of our defences,” Hughes began trying to prove his point. “Besides there are a number of more competent and intelligent officers out there that could take his place. Once the defensive positions are in place and his precious fleets are built, he will be removed one way or the other.” “More competent officers you have in your pocket you mean. There are a hell of a lot of officers out there that wouldn’t be and I’d do my damned best to make sure they got into those positions instead. But think of this Hughes, how many of your little pets have the knowledge and experience of O’Neill and his people, not to mention that the man will have you disappear before you can even come close to him? That stunt with the Hague you orchestrated has got a lot of people on his side. The idiots that made that attempt have already been sacked from their positions since the verdict came down...” “You may think me stupid, McClusky but I’m not that moronic. I know which way that the public faces when they have a hero and no I’m not going to touch him until he makes a critical mistake. Then we’ll put him in his place. We need him to keep us in this war and I know that but sooner or later he’ll be politically and militarily unreliable post war and he will have to be removed from his position. Even you must be able to see that.” “Not particularly, Hughes. The fact that he’s almost single-handedly responsible for the current climate with our off world allies more than give him my support. After the stupidity that ended up with Kinsey dead and a load of our classified information in the hands of a Goa’uld, I would have thought that you would have learned from his mistakes.” “I don’t have time for any more of your flights of fancy McClusky. I have work to do and I suggest you keep your nose out of my business. O’Neill and his ilk are good for the moment but once we have ended this war our forces will come under a proper military structure that listens to the people that run this planet not their own wishes. “I hope you have a nice suit Chairman, because if you try that you’ll need it.” “I hope your not implicating I’ll be put on trial for doing my duty, Vice Chairman.” “Not at all Chairman. I’m thinking that you’ll need it more for your funeral.” Crucible Command Centre Homeworld Security Command Centre Nevada Inside the Crucible Jack O’Neill slouched back in his chair. He had finally done it. The IOA had been told in no uncertain terms that they will do as they were told and like it, something that he had not been able to do at all since the inception of the IOA during his time with SG1. Now the problem more than ever was what he needed to keep Homeworld security and its associated sections intact and running without the interference that would be inevitable after his bust up with Hughes, no matter the ‘promises’ the incompetent moron had given. More than once he had been forced to end run the council to allow his people to run their defences adequately. Now he would have to make sure his people got what they needed when they needed it while also keeping an eye out for spies, agents or otherwise that would inevitably turn up because of the actions of the council. The problem would be keeping them out of the more sensitive areas without letting them know he was onto them, something that would inevitably lead to others infiltrating instead. Sighing Jack leaned back into his chair and pressed down on the intercom button on his desk ordering his command staff into the office. Within minutes, the last of the relief personnel had appeared freeing up those needed. “Alright people, here’s the deal, the IOA have decided in their infinite wisdom to step down from oversight for the war effort allowing us a free hand in controlling and using the resources we need to hold off the Colonials for the foreseeable future,” O’Neill began. “Because of this we’re going to need to increase internal security immediately as well and start recruiting for more personnel to staff the crucible.” “Sir, without the oversight committee what will the Rules of Engagement be?” One Officer, an Army Major asked. “Our forces are stretched thin as it is.” “The ROEs will stay as they are,” O’Neill held up a hand to forestall any complaints. “Yes it’s damned stupid but we’re still held by the rules of convention regarding enemy combatants. We’ve enough problems without riling up the legal departments of a dozen countries like last time.” “Amen to that,” someone said. “As of now however we have complete control of the fleet and planetary defences. To stop an attack from disabling us I’m having a number of secondary bunkers built worldwide to take control of different parts of the whole. The Brits will keep hold of Houdini while the Russians will take command of the fighter detachments, the United States keep fleet command while the Chinese will back us up if we lose all communications.” Jack leaned back. “The Antarctic Outpost will stay as it is, an international regiment will be dispatched as soon as possible to guard it against any attempt to attack it from the surface.” Paul Davis looked up at his words. “Sir that directly contravenes the Antarctic as well as the Arms Limitation Treaties. The forces already stationed there are pushing the word as well as the spirit as it is.” “I know that Paul, but I’m not letting short sighted politicians screw with the only chances we have of defending this planet,” O’Neill snapped. “The Forces under Homeworld Security are multinational as it is. As long as we manage to scrape together a force of the majority of the IOA countries then they might stop moaning long enough to notice than the Colonials and Wraith would have us screwed if we lose that outpost.” “There has been a request to move the outpost’s command chair and associated system to Area 51 or the British Space Defence Headquarters in the midlands. It would keep the weapon’s control in allied hands but not risk the destruction of the outpost if the Wraith destroy the chair.” “Is that even possible?” “We don’t know Sir. The majority of those that researched the chair went with the Atlantis expedition and we’re starting over from scratch again.” “Who’s boneheaded idea was that?” “Doctor Weir, Sir. She thought that those that knew the most about the Ancient technology would be best served as part of the Expedition.” One of the Majors spoke up. “As it is only Colonel Carter and one or two others left behind or on rotation back to Earth really have any knowledge about the outpost and most of them are currently attached to the shipyards and R&D sections.” “Great.” O’Neill rubbed his face. “Pull everyone no matter their rank or position that knows anything about that tech to the outpost and do what they need to keep that place up and running and defended. I’ll authorise the construction of whatever we need to hold it and keep it Crap, we should have done something like this a long time ago.” “We tried sir, but the IOA overruled us as usual.” “Even better. Get onto the SGC and see if they can hack together another control system for the outpost in case we need it. I want backups for every defence we have.” “We’ll get problems from the politicians, the other countries and the Greenpeace types.” “If they get in the way, shoot them.” “Very droll, Sir.” One of the English members of the general staff said. Looking at the General’s face he could tell that was not a joke by a very real threat to those that might get in their way. “I mean, very well Sir. We’ll have Royal Marine and German Commando units deployed within the next 48 hours.” “Good,” O’Neill replied. “We need that intact for as long as this war keeps up. I’ll answer to the UN council when it comes up. Otherwise keep it on the low down until I say otherwise. Have tomahawk and rapier systems shipped to the outpost as well just in case. Any other defences will be allocated when and if necessary until then we’ll use what we have. Inform the Ajax to take up geostationary orbit above the outpost until relieved or ordered otherwise. When the Wraith arrive and that’s the first thing that they’ll go for.” “Sir that’s assuming that they know that we have an ancient outpost let alone an active one capable of blasting them when they make their attack,” The English Colonel spoke up again. “I hesitate to point out Sir that the Wraith attack may completely deplete what remains of the outpost’s magazines, with that lost we’re down to the few drones on the Puddlejumpers and the defence fleet. Even a Lucian task force could simply lay waste to us.” O’Neill looked down at his notes before looking back up at his council, he had known for a while that the supply was low and that without some form of renewing the ZPM, there was no way of repairing the outpost and increasing the Drones. An attempt had already been made using a copy of the ancient power booster to no avail. Jack had little choice in the matter if he wanted to keep his world alive. “That is why I’m also ordering a full deployment and resupply to Atlantis as soon as possible, we need to keep that city intact and on our hands and a single massive supply trip may be all we can get to them for a while.” Jack paused. “It also means that the return trip will have every drone that can be packed into the ship aboard, whichever ship we send will be at minimal crew, no fighters, no missile resupply and a total removal of anything that is not required for the survival of the ship and crew. I want a complete schematic and plan in place within the time it takes to turn around one of our ships for the voyage. Colonel Sevigny, I want you to contact Colonel Carter at the Shipyards, the Quartermasters for every IOA and Allied Base you can and see what we can get for them. Use supply budgets for the Crucible and SGC to buy in bulk from outside if you have to, but we have to get as much to them as possible if we survive the Wraith of course.” “Sir, with all respect even with the Daedalus class fully packed even without fighters, we wouldn’t get more than a few months of supplies onboard,” The Colonel replied., “We couldn’t risk sending any more than one ship otherwise we risk compromising the defences.” “That’s why I said talk to the shipyards odds on they can come up with something that can help us out. It’s already a risk sending the Daedalus anyway maybe we can minimise any more problems with a massive resupply effort,” snarked Jack. “It’s not exactly a corner store job. The fact is we are hard pressed on every front. The fleet and planetary defences are woefully underpowered and underfunded and we have next to no collateral left to buy resources or ships from anyone. As and when possible, we’ll be sending supplies to Atlantis and the other sites. Until then they are on their own. Whatever way this is put together remind the Colonel that it’s to be left behind for the return trip. I’m not going to completely strip Atlantis’ defences.” We do have one possibility Sir,” Davis said “What would that be Colonel?” “The Gate Bridge, Sir.” “Uhh.” O’Neill looked to his exec. “Is this one of those weird ideas that we put on the backburner?” “Yes Sir.” “Great, what is it?” “We gather a number of ground and space gates from both our galaxy and Pegasus, sir. Doctors Mckay and Zelenka think that they can rewire them to work as a really long tunnel in space. The problem is though the need to have a half way stop to shift between one set and another,” Davis replied. “Colonel Carter agreed with them and has already started checking on gates on empty planets.” “Nope, I got nothing.” Jack frowned. “We can have both sets of gates in place we think sometime soon, we’ll just have to set them the right distance from each other to work.” Colonel Foster pushed across a folder. “Right now however the Ajax and the Prometheus will be our best bet to replenish Atlantis as you said.” “It looks like the Prometheus is staying put as is the Ajax at least for now. The Odyssey and Daedalus will be in the shop for a while after this. More if the damage is in the deep structure as well,” Davis replied. “We’ll have three more Daedalus class in service within two months and a dozen or more Prometheus class ships at the same time, after that we’ll be looking at the same numbers every four to five months depending on the speed of delivery from the foundries.” “So we hold off the usual resupply until more ships are operational and we’ve secured Earth space, problem solved,” said Colonel Hayes “With the new ships we can send more than two if it becomes that necessary.” “Not exactly, even though Atlantis routinely rations their supplies in case the Daedalus is lost or delayed but their current supplies are currently counted at less than two months, three if their crop attempts are successful.” Sevigny looked to O’Neill and Davis. “Since we recovered contact we’ve been able to supply them with a bit more each month than they need, considering the sorry state of their inventory beforehand. A Daedalus fleet would be needed to transport the entire needed resources... or maybe something the same size.” “Care to clue us in, Brian? “Not yet, Sir. I have a few ideas but nothing I can really do anything with until the Daeadalus and Odyssey get back. If I can be excused I need to talk to Colonel Carter about this,” Sevigny replied. “Ok then, if no one has anything else?” O’Neill looked around. “Dismissed.” Resurrection Hub Cylon Space Liquid splashed across the floor as the struggling figure came to, her consciousness flooding into the empty body as she resurrected gasping and struggling with the bombardment from her newly activated senses. Three sets of hand grabbed on and held her in place as the shock of returning from the ether ebbed away, body heaving and shaking her eyes focussed on the three figures around the pod. “Calm down. It’s ok your back with us.” “What, what happened?” “We don’t know. Whatever it was it took us a hell of a lot of the hub’s processing power to pull your stream out of space. We almost lost you more than once before you were reeled back in. Take your time, can you tell us if you remember anything. Where were you and what were you doing?” “I... I don’t know.” “We found your data stream coming in from an old basestar.” “Attacked, we were attacked.” “We found the wreckage of the Basestar along with a hell of a lot of Colonial debris and bodies scattered around. We just don’t know why you were out there outside our space.” “The Colonials, how did they know where we were?” Natalie asked. “We hoped you could tell us,” an Eight replied. “I... I don’t know.” Six replied, eyes widening. “I can’t remember. Why can’t I remember?” “Easy, easy,” A fellow six replied. “You were the only one we were able to recover relatively intact, the rest including the centurions and raider minds were all lost in the download. We lost maybe ten percent of your data stream when you transferred. You were lucky we had a resurrection ship close enough for the download to boost back to us otherwise you would have been lost for good.” “I remember something; we were attacked almost as soon as we finished our FTL jump. We jumped into a massive forces of Colonial vipers we were nuked before we could get a single round out. There must have been a lot of ships to take us down so quickly, I just don’t remember what hit us.” Natalie sighed. “If the Colonials are trying to stop us contacting the Tau’ri or anyone else then they must be desperate, we need to send another attempt to contact them as soon as possible....” “We won’t be doing that just yet,” The Four said. “The consensus has agreed that we can ill afford to lose another ship so soon to the Colonials. Once the next group of base ships are completed then we’ll be in a better state to send another of the old type. This time with more of an escort than we did this time.” “That could be a year or more, what do we do till then?” “We continue to make preparations for the war against the Twelve Colonies as we have been doing. Until then there is nothing else we can do.” “This is a mistake. The Tau’ri could be valuable allies or deadly enemies. I know I’d prefer for it to be the latter,” Natalie replied. “There was no chance of recovering any of the others?” “The humanoids were completely scrambled by the distance and some form of jamming we were unaware the Colonials had. The rest simply didn’t even burn through the jamming... We lost the hybrid.” The eight bowed her head. “We also informed the others about recovering you, apparently they knew nothing about your mission nor why you were aboard an old basestar.” “My mission... was to communicate with the Tau’ri,” Six replied confused. “Why would I be sent unless the Consensus made that decision?” “We don’t know, but we’re heading back to our own space to find out. We’ll be back in the capital system within the next two days so relax while you can,” the Eight replied angrily. “We’ll find out soon enough what happened and how we’ll respond to this Colonial aggression. They can’t be allowed to simply destroy our people and ships without response.” “And we won’t,” Four replied. “However we have to agree by what consensus decides. We can volunteer for the action whatever it may be but we must be patient and see what comes. However there is no reason we can’t make a slight detour and make sure that there are no trespassers close to our space.” “We’ll be risking a lot if we do this, the Colonials may decide that they are the wronged party and attack anyway.” “Their forces are lower than they have been in almost forty years, a single pinprick won’t make much difference and if we’re careful we can have them believe it’s the Tau’ri themselves that caused the attack. They can’t be more pissed off at the Earthers than they are already.” ***
Chapter 16a Ash's Boomstick. CH_16a -.Orilla-_ Thor&Freyr, Jack&Davies, Decisions, Responsiblities&Gifts, Sleep&Plans Chapter 16 Orilla Asgard Homeworld Ida Galaxy “The project is almost complete.” “If we are successful this may mean a great difference to the races of the three galaxies far into the future, ourselves among them.” “Do we have every template installed within the databanks?” “We merely require the last few.” Thor looked up at the monstrous work that the science council of the Asgard had been working on for more than a year. Every spare hour and every spare piece of material that could be gathered had been put into this- their finest creation to date. The very basis of the technology was far beyond that of their greatest warships or cities, a combined science of Ancient and Asgard technology had allowed for a quantum leap in what they believed had been possible. -A saviour for their race. Since they had realised that their race was now completely unable to save themselves through the use of genetics or medical technology, the only thing left was a hope. A hope that would possibly bring them back from the abyss that they were staring into at the twilight of their race. Already, every Asgard bar those few that were assisting younger races had been recalled to Orilla for this final stage of the project. “Commander, the database and other systems will be complete by the end of the year. I believe that it will be necessary to inform our successors of our progress and our request before we finish the last of the construction.” Thor looked at the machine in front of him. It was time for him to return to Earth to request the last favour that they would ever ask from the humans. Yet another in a virtual catalogue of favours and requests that they had brought before the humans for the last seven years, now another one would be asked through his old friend O’Neill, one he hoped that the Fifth Race would agree to. Time was short and unless the humans of Earth could be persuaded to help then the Asgard while keeping their promises, his people would inevitably cease to exist. Thor looked to his brother. “The council has agreed to my request.” “I still believe that this is not a good idea” Freyr replied. “However I will obey and follow the edict as laid down.” The other Asgard turned from Thor and continued with his work. Thor realised his brother had little left to say to him. The younger Asgard pressed a control on his wrist sending him from the laboratory to his flagship high above the planet, the O’Neill, the last ship he would command in his many millennia of combat experience. He had begun with such a small and insignificant border cutter and through hard work progressed through every class they had to this the ultimate achievement of their technological prowess. Now it would simply become history like the rest of his ships and indeed the legacy of his people, Bringing the ship out of orbit Thor passed by assembled Asgard fleet, dozens of ships moved position as their commander threaded his way out into the space beyond their home. Acknowledging his flight plan, he was given the go ahead to leave. Returning the signal, he activated the hyper-drive systems sending the O’Neill into hyperspace on its way to Earth. Due to the more pressing needs for the humans at this point, he would not, as was customary, simply jump into the Sol System and transport up O’Neill. Something like that could set the entire system on edge and possible lead to unforeseen problems between himself and the human leadership. His own vessel while completely immune to anything bar the Ancient technology at their defensive outpost would still be a target. Thor stared at the screen above his head. He had a few minutes to think to himself before he would have to take the ship out of hyperspace. They had a very little amount of time left to complete their project. This would very possibly be the final time that he would approach the small world that held the people of the Fifth Race, something he had always taken for granted. Jack O’Neill and his team were the closest things to friends he had outside of his own race. Even those such as Ksavir and Freyr had begun to realise the potential that the two races together had even with their own reservations to the planned change to the treaty. Now they had become the true heirs to the four races, a people who took the best and worst of their predecessors and their allies and made it something their own. His ship continued on through space towards Earth for the last time but while he was there, he would continue with his self made promise to improve the lot of the Fifth Race even to the point of awarding them anything he could to improve their defences. While their technology was far below that of his own, any help they could get would be given. Until such time as the council allowed him to gift real technology to the humans he would simply have to be more creative. It was odd that only ten of the human’s years ago he would have thought very differently about helping out a less advanced race but now after years of exposure to O’Neill and his team as well as a small number of other humans such as General Hammond and Colonel Davis during negotiations he believed that some of them were of suitable character to keep the technology out of the hands of those who would abuse it. Dropping his vessel back down to sublight he also dropped much of the ship’s stealth abilities and while the humans would not be able to scan his ship’s interior or indeed pick up much of the exterior of the ship they would be able to see him and detect his exact position. That was something that he was sure that Stargate Command and their allies would appreciate from him. He keyed the communications as one of the closest ships approached from Earth orbit. “Asgard vessel this is the HMS Ajax, welcome back to Earth.” “This is the O’Neill, I am Commander Thor requesting permission to enter Earth orbit.” “Permission granted Commander, a parking orbit has been cleared for you.” “Thank You.” Slipping past the Daedalus class vessel, the massive O’Neill entered the parking orbit of Earth. Thor’s scans surprised him somewhat at what length the humans had gone to defending their world against another attack by these Colonials. Operational satellite defences, larger numbers of fighters deployed both above and within the atmosphere and a quickly growing star navy, several dozen small and medium class vessels were already launched with a few of the larger Daedalus class ships in orbit as well. Even more so was evidence that an expansion of their shipyard facilities both in orbit and on the ground were increasing dramatically as was the number of ships coming into the system from outside of Earth. It seemed that the Tau’ri had begun calling in favours and requests from all over the galaxy, their current strength while still inferior to all but the lowliest of powers was still enough to allow a good defence. Their war against the human power calling themselves the Colonies had forced the entire planet to close ranks, to fight as one people. However Thor believed that they would need to be careful once the new treaty came into effect. He was impressed with the fact that in less than a year since the attack on Earth that so much could be done so fast, even with the assistance of his own people and the remaining Tok’ra to build shipyards. The humans had pushed and pushed the construction of so many ships he was surprised that they were capable of launching them fully manned and armed. “Crucible to Commander Thor.” “This is Thor, Good Morning Colonel Davies.” “Good Morning, Commander, I’m sorry about the hostile reception but we are expecting an enemy vessel to enter Earth space within the next day. I am afraid that I have bad news about the ships that you left here.” “I know Colonel, a communications channel between Orilla and our ships here were interrupted by the battle. We are aware of the damage caused to them and the losses, however their return to this world will be observed and their crews removed once the ships are repaired.” Thor replied, “My own ship will also be staying to assist against the Wraith vessel,. We should be capable of destroying the hive once it arrives.” “Thank you, Commander.” “This however is not the reason that I am here. I have a request to put to your leaders and to General O’Neill. This is of the utmost import to the Asgard people and the future of our race and yours.” “I see. This will take a while to prepare Commander.” “I understand Colonel. I would request that it is soon as I may not have much time.” “I can inform General O’Neill immediately.” “Please do.” It took only a few seconds before another voice joined Davis on the communication channel. “Thor buddy, what can we do for you?” “O’Neill I require assistance. If you are willing I will transport you to my ship.” “I’m got Carter and Daniel down here with me.” “Then I shall bring all four of you up.” “Ready when you are.” A flash of light brought three Air Force officers and one civilian archaeologist appeared on the bridge. Thor walked towards them bowing his head slightly as he greeted them. “It is good to see you again.” “Good to be here Thor, which one is this?” “The ship? It is the O’Neill.” “Another one?” “Do you not also use the names of lost ships in memory of their exploits?” “Yeah we do, didn’t know you did,” Jack replied. “As you have been informed we require assistance from the humans of your world, please take a seat.” Several human-sized chairs appeared behind them requisitioned from the main conference room at the SGC, something that Jack was quite sure would cause Hank Landry to have somewhat of a conniption when he found out. “We should wait for the IOA members before we agree to anything Commander, Davis said. “The request will go through your International Oversight Authority when it is necessary however I found it prudent to explain to your people first as I believe that it is the military and scientific parts of your society that will most benefit from the treaty requests that we are about to make.” “It this is about those muppets episodes...”Jack began. “It is not. It has to do with the very survival of the Asgard Race and the legacy with which we leave you and the rest of your world.” Thor looked at O’Neill “Several years ago we discovered that a progressive genetic disease had begun to damage our DNA. Our entire race has been infected with this illness causing less of our clones to reach maturity. Within a century our entire race will be unable to enter any of the bodies we produce.” The four humans were shocked. The Asgard were an ancient race far beyond anyone else that they had met and second only to the Alterans. The fact that they were so close to extinction after so many millennia was unbelievable. They knew of the troubles that the aliens had had with their cloning technologies in recent years. The fact that the bodies were dying off so quickly meant that they need the help others could give them help that even the knowledge of the ancients and the DNA of the more advanced humans of the planet earth couldn’t assist. “How, what can we do to help Thor?” Sam asked, “There’s got to be something we can do.” “There is, while every attempt to recreate our race has failed we have been able to plan ahead. The request that I have comes directly from the Asgard High Council. Our entire race is being stored in a small number of computer cores and will be kept in stasis for the foreseeable future. During this time we will need to be watched over to ensure that we survive until such time as we are able to recover and transplant into new freshly cloned bodies. Even with our own technology we will be unable to do so for a significant amount of time. As we speak a second system of computers are unravelling and rebuilding the very structure of every DNA strand of the Asgard People.” “How long will that take?” Daniel spoke up, “I mean you must have the knowledge of your own DNA after all this time as well as those bodies we discovered and brought back. We thought that was one of the keys to keeping you alive." “You misunderstand Doctor Jackson, it is not the simply unravelling and reconstruction of a single strand from each Asgard but every single strand in every single body of those of us who remain including those who have already been unable to download into a new body. It will take in excess of one thousand years even with the use of time manipulation technology to complete the project; one thousand years where we and our technology will be at the mercy of any enemy that decides to take advantage of our weakness. This is why we are here, if you and your people agree then the entire Asgard race will move the specialised equipment that are the core of our project to a nearby solar system.” “You can do that?” Jack exclaimed. “Sir we’ve seen them turn main sequence stars into black holes, moving a city shouldn’t take much.” Carter replied. “So we’re looking at an Asgard version of Atlantis here, Thor?” Jack looked to the small alien “Nothing quite as grandiose, while we could build a city ship we do not have the time nor the resources at hand.” Thor blinked. “In return for your assistance, we will begin to equip you with technology to better protect yourselves and those that you claim as brothers.” “O’Neill with your permission a number of Asgard are prepared to beam aboard your ships immediately to begin installing various technological upgrades. “What is it you're planning on giving us?” Davis replied. “Everything we have and know.” “By that you mean?” “Everything. All our most current technology, all our knowledge.” Daniel could only stare at the Asgard “Sorry. We're just a little stunned …why are you so willing to give up your technology? You've always resisted in the past…you always said we weren't ready for this." “Daniel...” Jack started before stopping himself, “Actually as much as I want the big honking space guns and go-somewhere beams, you and the council back home have both said we shouldn’t be messing with stuff so far beyond us.” “Indeed. Many of my people still believe that, however with our own lives in jeopardy we have been forced to choose between our honour and our very being. We have chosen honour.” Thor looked to the four humans. “In the many years since the four races dissolved the great alliance we have watched and waited as many promising peoples have come and gone. Each had our hopes that they could create something that could rival what had come before. Each failed in their own way. Now we have seen what is possible with the current incarnation of humanity and that is something that we hope that out own assistance will allow to nurture. For the first time in ten thousand years we have hope for the future. You are the Fifth Race and the culmination of every hope and dream that the Asgard, the Furlings, the Nox, and the Ancients have.” “With all respect Commander, with the exception of a few outposts we don’t own any planets or systems nearby. What use can we be to you?” Colonel Davis asked. “That is simple Colonel, the request is that you watch over us while we sleep.”
Chapter 16b Ash's Boomstick. CH_16b -.Hanka-_ Col.POWCamp, ReligiousDifferences, Tyrn&Luc, SurvivalGears, PiconKIA'd; Corman&Doc, Rescue, Fitz&Mon POW Camp Colonial One Hanka “The gods looked down upon what they had done to Kobol and receded from their followers as one. Mankind trembled at the knowledge that they and they alone would continue their works untroubled and unwatched by those that they had called their lords. But even with the Lords no longer with them the people rose up and built a fleet of ships, the Arks with which to move between the stars and take their rightful place in the heavens.” The preacher looked over the hundreds of men and women that sat or stood in front of him. He and another two dozen of his fellow priests had survived aboard the ships simply disabled by the Tau’ri and had been separated during the debriefing from their flocks. Yet once they had been searched and questioned they had been allowed back into the mainstream prison population to continue with their teachings of the words of the lords of Kobol. He had even gone as far as to request the scrolls and other paraphernalia that had been aboard his ship before they had been taken prisoner and separated. Oddly, the Tau’ri had been more than willing and had in fact sent down personal effects of a lot of the personnel that had survived. A veritable mountain was left behind from those who were already dead. He and his fellow brothers had held onto it allowing for it to be used as the basis of an economy for the survivors. The survivors throughout the encampments had been surprised that everything that wasn’t nailed down had been send to them, even money, jewellery and other precious items were included. Nothing as far as they could tell had been ransacked and kept by the Tau’ri, one bursar had remarked that every cubit the fleet had in their coffers had been included. Enough money to make any man in the Colonies rich enough to buy a moon, jewels and bonds equalling the cost of entire Battlestars were included. More than one had remarked that had it been the other way around that they would have ransacked the Tau’ri ships and taken anything they could; that the people that went through their ships were fools; that would likely be easily taken for everything they owned. The preacher hadn’t bothered to correct the man and left the conversation to continue on. Unlike what they had expected however their religious beliefs had been left intact and they were allowed to do as they wished in regards to their religion so long as they didn’t break any of the fundamentals that existed on the Tau’ri worlds. Given that the majority of the fleet followed the more common versions of the story of the Lords that didn’t seem to be much of a problem. Several of the religious groups from a number of the Earther’s religions had visited the priests. They had likewise been military based but with insignias to show their position within the ranks. They had been responsible for a number of the same basic ceremonies that he and his brethren had been witnessed to. It seemed that their religion while still something anathema to a number of the colonies’ populations, were not completely different in all ways to their own. He had been fortunate enough to witness the last rites as well as a ceremony remembering those that had been lost to illness and injury amongst their own people and although they had had no reason to hide him nor to let him see the outside world of their religious views, they had. Several of their most overriding religions seemed to follow the same basis of a single god and their followers showing the way to paradise through self sacrifice, something not too unlike several of the gods within his own pantheon. But that same commonality also seemed to push their people apart with religious wars and persecution evident throughout their history. Even now during the days after they had been assaulted by his people because of yet another disagreement thinly veiled as a religious difference, (something that he and his fellows has all believed was simply lip service given to the college and the more rapidly religious backwards worlds instead of simply telling them to truth) the same thing happened. Now it was between the two of them, Colonial and Thirteenth Tribe. “Today as with each new day as it dawns is a new chance for us to renew ourselves, we have been given a bountiful and clean world for us to claim for the people of the Colonies. We may be trapped here but we are trapped as one people unlike any other time in our history. Therefore, let us not hate our fellows nor our brothers but embrace all that they are and all that we are.” The priest bowed his head, “In the name of Zeus the Father, Hera the Mother and those sons and daughters of their line. So say we all.” The assembled Colonials bowed their heads as they repeated the mantra before falling out to their new homes. They had been forced to build their own huts and living spaces using equipment supplied to them from the Tau’ri. Almost every disaster pod that could be salvaged from the fleet had been sent to the planet in small amounts as the Tau’ri and their allies dropped them off as and when possible. Given the numbers of pods compared to the numbers of survivors there had been more than enough to equip the fleet personnel with rations and habitation. Already the pods themselves as well as the larger solid shelters were popping up into small groups as personnel from different ships and indeed classes of vessel had congregated together. His own flock had been from a large number of cruisers and missile ships that had been on far side of the attack as their numbers were slightly larger than most of the other groups. But not everything went smoothly. Many were angry at the fact that their efforts had been ineffectual against the Tau’ri ships when their main weapons were capable of shattering multiple Cylon basestars. Several even blamed the commanders and crews of the largest Warstars and Battlestars for their defeat. The already legendary rivalry between the Battlestar personnel and the cruisers had substantially increased once they had all been forced into the same encampment. Equipment and supplies from their disabled ships had been salvaged as much as was possible by those few allowed onto the vessels. Food, drink, medical aid, construction equipment, even vehicles and fuel had been packed into two of their own ships and jumped into orbit with a few of their own people piloting them. The former Jupiter and Ziggurat had been renamed in giant painted letters in the place of their original names. He and his fellows who had been responsible for the transfer had no ideas what the names SS Lusitania and Edmund Fitzgerald could possibly mean. However they had been warned that while they had been brought there, through some odd contraption that seemed to be a contained tunnel between worlds, that once the last of their people were through the gateway would be removed with no way back through and very small chance of resupply once what they had on hand was exhausted. However the equipment and supplies both from their warships and from the Tau’ri themselves had included a large number of supplies with which to begin building a more modern barracks style habitation. Their greatest danger was the lack of long term food and water supplies, something that their own stocks of equipment could help with in the long term, Once again the Tau'ri had been gracious enough to furnish them with books and leaflets on how to begin production of their own agriculture and water reclamation. It would take time and effort to rebuild a civilisation on this world but it was something that one day could bring another world into the sphere of the colonies, when the time came that the Tau’ri were forced to tell their people where the prisoners were. Observing his flock he watched as several more of the precious disaster pods were cracked open, thousands of tons of supplies were stocked within military food rations sufficient to feed over a thousand people for a month or longer if they were able to use some of the local flora to allow it to go further. The same went for the tents and shelters that were packed in, living space for that same thousand people. The shelters already in use were suitable for the moment until such time as they could build better. However the most useful of the equipment was still being unloaded and rationed as the food was; tools, ropes, small motors, fuel for them, several seemed to be of an older variety due to the fact they had included small travel buggies that had long been out of service aboard the Battlestars. The greatest gift from the gods had been the hospital equipment that had been aboard the Colonial ships. Supplies and medical apparatus was already in use as several of the soldiers had had relapses from whatever illnesses they had caught from the devastating biosphere of ‘Earth’. The supplies were already mostly catalogued and locked away to be rationed between the groups, a large group of tents guarded by men and women he knew to be Marines. However he would not be surprised if a black market was already in progress, the problem of course being there is no way to get new and unofficial contraband in and no guards to bribe to bring anything in. He and the rest of the brothers were the only members of the commonality allowed to come and go from the supply shelters without escort. This was something that he felt had been a bad decision on the part of the commanders. “Brother Tyrn.” The priest looked up at the approaching figure of the senior most religious figure of them all. While the priests could talk and make decisions in a cavalcade, a leader was needed – and the oldest and best known of the priests was decided upon.” “Brother Luc.” Luc had spent more time with the religious members of the Tau’ri’s military than any of the others had. During his time with them he had been exposed to their habits, their religions and their way of life. With a few exceptions such as the freedom of religion that they seemed to hold dear in many countries, they lived much like the Colonies did. Luc himself had informed them of their world at large, at his sufferance he had allowed priests of their varying religions to sit in on the cavalcades as the brothers made their decisions. Most had been silent during the prayers and worship they had witnessed simply bowing their heads in pray to their own gods, whoever they were. Several had a multitude of gods and prayed to most if not all of them with one or two gods seen as the household gods, something that was quite common within the Colonies even though according to the tenets of that religion they had been worshipping for far longer than the Colonies had been inhabited. Others preached peace and brotherhood between all of their followers and those that did not believe. The brothers, once they had heard of this, disbelieved that so many religions could exist on one world when only one or two existed on their own twelve worlds. Even before the colonies had reunited after thousands of years almost everyone had been a follower of the tenets of the lords of Kobol. A small group of Monotheists that had believed in a single all powerful deity, were the exception. They believed in an All-Father much like Zeus in his religion, but theirs was one in which there was one All-Father presiding over everything with no other lesser gods to watch over his firmament. He had discovered that the illegal monotheisms of his home worlds were embraced as the dominant religions of the Earth itself. While this meant that some of what Adar and the leaders of the Churches had said was true, he had seen far more of the true face of the Tau’ri. The complete lack of attempts to convert them to their own religions and war of life had come as a shock. He had disseminated that to the brothers and that caused more than one upset and even a single demand for his resignation and dismissal from the cloth. “I see your words to your flock is being taken to heart recently.” Luc smiled. “They seem to take heart in you and your sermons.” “Indeed Brother, the expansion of the encampment as well as the beginning of proper construction of homesteads for our people have already begun ,but I fear that we may have problems as we continue.” “Yes. I have heard the same from the other brothers. More than one has informed me of the possibility of conflict between groups of our fellows.” “How do we temper them, Brother? They are angry at our defeat even after all this time. Their hatred and anger at the Tau’ri and those that escaped and left them behind will soon end up as hatred towards the other cliques that are forming between the crews.” “I don’t know my friend. It is within each of us to fight what we see as injustice and without an enemy to fight. We will fight amongst ourselves until another evil comes around and forces us to bind together like the Cylons, or the Tau’ri.” “I hope you are correct Brother, otherwise we could be in dire straits compared to where we have just come from. Those who follow the path laid out may find themselves facing those who do not believe. Worse yet those who follow religions not of the lords may indeed decide to defect to the Tau’ri for one reason or another especially those whom follow the one god.” Tyrn looked concerned. “I don’t want to think about what it’s like back home. Those who have been known to be monotheists could find themselves in trouble with the colleges as well as the general public. Illegal as it is, we have allowed them to continue without any serious repercussions for the last few decades. Now I can’t see them being allowed to exist in any way once it is apparent that the Tau’ri are voluntarily members of such religions.” “Then a lot of people will die back home, more so than those who have already been lost to this folly of a crusade.” “It gets worse my friend.” A barrage of screams and shouts came from a cluster of people around one of the other priests. Several other groups began to shout as the same news that seemed to upset the first group made the rounds. Even with an inhabited area the size of the Colonial encampments the speed of rumour was impressive, the speed of bad news was faster still. “We had a visitor from the Tau’ri command earlier today,” Luc spoke up over the noise. “He informed us of the complete story of their own attack on the colonies just after we attacked here, Tyrn, Picon was destroyed.” “What? How is that possible?” “Apparently it was an accident. They went after the anchorage shattering it with nuclear weapons. Debris hit the planets’ surface the space stations exploded. The combination of the Tau’ri’s attack and the armament already in place caused about a third of the entire structure to hit the surface. Since some of it radioactive from the blasts, most of the survivors were taken off planet before they sealed the orbital paths. Those left.... well...” “By the lords!” “Oh it gets worse my friend. Some virus made it off world. No-one is saying how it came to exist but it swept through the colonies killing hundreds of millions and crippling a lot of others. The Tau’ri haven’t told us what the virus is but if I can read between the lines. It’s something nasty and it’s something that these Earth born have in their arsenal, possibly this and probably things far nastier. The news just came through and I have designated the brothers of the order to inform the rest of the population.” “We’re going to be busy. Close to a fifth of the people here are from Picon.” “I know, I’m afraid before this week is done with we’ll have more than one last rites to administer.” Tyrn looked exhausted. “The people will need their spiritual guidance for quite some time after this plus there is the fact they will not be able to take their revenge on those who caused the crippling of the Colonies will grate on them all.” “We’ll need to inform the command council of this, try to keep this from spilling over into internecine warfare.” “We might need to recruit more brothers if we are able to. Several former preachers and lesser brothers of the faith are now members of the fleet here. I will do my best to retrieve them and bring them back into the fold.” “I will contact the Tau’ri. As much as we do not wish for their help, more than one of our brethren were kept behind for some reason. Their return could assist immeasurably with the problems over the next few weeks.” “Thank you.” Luc replied. “Now to see if we can repair the damage that the Tau’ri have caused in these few weeks. This will be a long and trying time for us all Brother Tyrn, I hope that we are up to it.” “As do I brother, because unless we are, many of our brothers and sisters of the colonies will be lost to us, possibly forever.” Colonial Command Defence Bunker Outskirts of Colonial Defence Command Picon Two weeks prior to the Caprica EMP attack The worst of the virus seemed to have abated within the ranks of the Colonial Command. While they had lost almost a third of the personnel inside the bunker to the illness, the rest had recovered to some extent although several hundred would be returned to their home colonies invalided. Those Colonials had been so badly ravaged in body and mind by the plague that they would be unable to continue their careers. Admiral Corman stepped through the hatch into the infirmary watching as his medical staff fussed over the beaten body of his prisoner. The man had finally all but given up as his body could no longer keep him upright and defiant. With luck once he was recovered enough he would give anything to stop a repeat of the circumstances that left him the wreck he currently was. Even given the fact that he knew nothing of the Tau’ri’s major technology or its current deployment and numbers, he was useful to Intel for providing an actual psychological profile of the people of his world, especially those more powerful countries that made up the mongrel governments ruling the planet. “Doctor.” “Admiral.” The woman said stiffly. “What can I do for you?” “I need a full status of all the personnel on this base. I want to know if it is clear enough to begin a redeployment of new staff to replace the entire crew.” “You already have my data on the virus. As far as I can tell everyone has been through the worst of it. Those who are still alive are either now immune to the current version, almost dead, or will be rendered incapacitate for the rest of their natural lives. Yes we can replace the entire crew without any ill effects. I would suggest a replacement of the filters in the atmospheric systems as well as a broad spectrum cleaning of the entire base using high heat or radiation.” “That will not be possible if we want to keep this place running.” “If you want your people to stay healthy enough to run this facility then you clear it and disinfect it Admiral, unless you want hundreds more dead or debilitated each time you change the crew.” “How long would it take?” Corman sighed, this woman was a frustrating pain in his rear but she was the best genetics biologist that the intelligence services had. He had to put up with her for the moment and with her position she could overrule his orders simply by using her prerogative as Medical Officer. “At the bare minimum, maybe a week. More likely two it’ll depend on the equipment and personnel you’re willing to use to get this place in shape.” “TWO WEEKS.” He all but roared. There was no way in Hades that he would be willing to leave the station completely empty for three weeks, not with the state of the planet and by and large the entire war effort. The chances of something going wrong increased with every moment that the bunker was unoccupied. “If you want to keep this place in use, then yes.” “Impossible, completely impossible.” “Not my problem.” “It will be if anything goes wrong…” He stormed across the infirmary to the prone body, the Tau’ri pilot was a mass of yellow and brown where the healing bruises and cuts that his ‘debriefing staff’ had rained upon the unfortunate soul. The problem with physical violence was the fact that anything that they got out of the man would by suspect, however the psychological effect of prolonged violence to the point of breaking was well known especially now that he was on the road to recovery. Alive or dead, he would be of some use to the Colonies even if just for the biological and chemical differences between them. The fact that the viruses that this man was immune to could cause devastation far beyond the influenza virus he had admitted to having was one of just a few things this man knew about that could change the balance of power between the Colonies should any one group have access to those illnesses. “When can he be moved?” “Realistically now?" She thought for a moment. "Preferably in a week’s time when his internal injuries have healed up. I don’t care what he has that you need Admiral, any more of your ‘questioning’ and he’ll be of no use to you and I won’t be able to keep him intact afterwards. Simply allowing you to continue this goes against all the principles of the School of Asclepius.” “Doctor, I am well aware of your oaths, the fact is that you can’t stop our questioning of this person.” He put the emphasis on the last word. “It and all the information he has is a necessary need to know no matter how small or inconsequential it may seem. He’s told us small amounts of important things such as their most powerful power generation warp cores and proton torpedoes capable of cracking apart the largest of space stations. In case you missed it, they've already proven that! We need more if we are to fight the Tau’ri." His voice rose in pitch as he continued to talk. "I will take him if you force me to and neither you nor he will enjoy it!” “No I gather we won’t, nonetheless he will not be leaving this base until you begin evacuation and DECON procedures. Once that begins you can move him off world to your heart’s content, but until then he stays right here where I can at least keep any more chances of another killer virus getting out.” One week later The two women were giggling slightly as they worked. News had already come to the base that a massive pulse had knocked out the electronics of more than half of the planet Caprica. News that Corman had been on a Battlestar that had jumped into orbit literally seconds before the EMP had crippled his ship had been giving members of their staff the giggles for some time. The fact that he was still caught on his ship as doors and bulkheads were cut through was even funnier. However orders were orders and several ships were in orbit awaiting the last of the personnel from the station. Nothing larger that a destroyer was deemed necessary especially considering the losses taken so far in the war. Indeed the destroyers and frigates had become the most plentiful ships in the fleet as the reactivation of older classes had gone ahead. For the moment however the base was under a gradual lockdown. The possibility of crippling the defences permanently had been weighted up against the temporary disabling of what remained of the Picon area’s defences. The argument had been very much one sided forcing the total evacuation within the week,. Corman had grudgingly allowed it leaving a bare guard of less than two hundred. “Miriam.” Cassandra looked in from the doorway. “The entirety of sections one through four are empty on all floors. They're closing down the life support and computers ready for decontamination.” “What about this side?” “Six through nine are locked down and last few personnel are loving into the remaining sections. Admiral Corman is still swearing up a storm about what’s happened at Caprica.” “Can’t have been fun being pulled back to an active ship by his tail.” Miriam grinned. “Have you shut down the access ways and main computers?” “Kind of.” “What do you mean kind of?” “Well the thing is Miriam, they aren’t shut at all except for the entrances to four and five.” “What, why?” “That’s the problem. I need them open.” “Cassie, what have you done.” “Doctor Cassandra Howarth?” Both medical personnel looked around at a man in combat armour toting what looked like an older rifle. Miriam cleared her throat before speaking. “I’m afraid your mistake there Soldier, I’m the Doctor. Cassie is my head nurse.” Miriam looked to her nurse mystified by the apologetic look on the younger woman’s face. “Cassie?” “I’m sorry Miriam, I really am.” “What?” Miriam shock kept her immobile for two more soldiers to appear at her side. “Tie her up Corporal, I’ll get the package,” she ordered the soldier. Miriam finally began to wake from her stupor as two of them men gently walked her over to a chair. “Miriam I am truly sorry about this, but we had to know the truth.” “You’re taking him?” “Yes we are; the authorities have done enough to him.” “They’ll hunt you down for this. You’ll be betraying your oath to the Colonies.” “My oath to my god is far beyond that of the colonies, especially those made to those whom do such injury to those that can’t defend themselves. The Earth-born man isn’t solely responsible for what has happened here. The fact that our brethren are being hunted to death simply because we don’t want to follow the so called 'Lords of Kobol' is against the tenets of colonisation.” “The religion of any single god was outlawed for a good reason,” Miriam replied. “But... I do understand what you're doing. Now do me a favour before you leave.” “If I can.” “Put me out with a tranquiliser. I can’t tell them anything that I don’t know.” “Are you sure?” “I’m sure,” Miriam smiled. “Doctor Howarth.” “If we all get out of this, I’ll look you up.” “If we get out alive, I’ll be expecting it.” Cassandra slipped a needle into the arm of her friend watching as the older woman slowly dropped into a drugged sleep. Leaving her be the soldiers stomped through to the other end of the medical bay. Only a single bed was still occupied by a male, strapped down across his shoulders, arms, legs and chest. Brutal Injuries that had been caused to him were still evident, blood still oozed from a few wounds into the bandages surrounding him. Bruises and swellings disfigured his features enough that so he was unrecognisable. “By the gods.” “He doesn’t understand Colonial standard.” “It’s ok.” One of the soldiers replied slowly removing the restraints. “The pastor will be able to talk to him.” Fitz opened his eyes as the restraints loosened. He had heard the conversation between a small group of people and unable to understand them he simply waited until they left. He was not expecting to be let free without being tied to something else. As his eyesight cleared he saw the blonde nurse surrounded by three military looking types. However unlike the torturers he had been used to these men were dressed in combat fatigues and armour, one was even equipped with a large rifle/grenade combo. “Great what now a firing squad?” he croaked. The blonde woman shook her head and gestured that she and the others didn’t understand him. One of the soldiers however pulled a letter from his vest pocket and raised it to the pilot’s face level gesturing for him to take it. Hesitantly, Fitz tried to raise his arm to take the letter, however he dropped his arm in exhaustion unable to make it. “It’s ok,” The man replied opening the letter. Pilot We are friends, these gentlemen are to bring you to us. You are safe. Please follow them. The Pastor. “Ok right and I’m to believe that this is real?” the British man croaked nastily. “What’s the pretext here then, shot while attempting escape, pretend to let me escape and then lock me in another room, oh the good old ‘good copper bad copper’ bull? Pull the other one.” While the Colonials didn’t understand the words they more than understood the language. Without a choice one of them pushed a needle into the neck of the uncooperative pilot injecting him with another dose of the same drug they had used against the Doctor. He hit the bed asleep within seconds as the concoction hit his brain. Softly the three men slipped him onto a gurney and moved him out leaving the sealed medical section and one unconscious woman behind. “We’ve only got a few minutes before someone notices they can’t unlock the doors and blast their way in.” “We’ve got transport waiting. The program that we were sent has got the outer doors open and the guards don’t have a clue,” a guard smirked. “The gremlin strikes again.” “You and that bloody name,” one of the others said. “He’s just someone that that’s got some pull in the military. Hell this could be a set up to get someone into our ranks and take down the lot of us.” “You're paranoid as hell,” the first man said. “Will you both shut up?” Cassie said, “There's something wrong.” “Now that’s a surprise.” “As we pass each section the doors are supposed to close and seal as I order them to. They aren’t.” “So?” “So… if they manage to burn their way through the quarantine doors they’ll have a direct path right here and they can move a lot faster than we can with a lot more people.” “That could be a problem.” “No frak,” the second replied. “Will you both shut up?” the third hissed. “Doctor Howarth?” “It’s keeping the entryway clear and open but we’ve got no way to stop them if they get through that doorway,” Cassie said. “I don’t know if we’ll be able to get away from the external defenses if that happens.” One of the guards grinned. It was nasty. “Don’t worry about that, we’ve got a small surprise if they decide to get punchy,” “Oh great, I’m not overly enthused by that.” “Relax. If they get us they won’t take us alive.” “Do you talk in anything but clichés?” “Not if I can help it,” he replied before hearing a muffled thud. “Looks like they’ve figured us out.” “I’m still trying to close the doors.” “Forget it, we’re here.” Two massive doors to the outer hull of the sunken fortress stood blown open and guarded by another dozen motley garbed and heavily armed men and women. Behind them sat a large hover vehicle ready to take them onboard and away from the bunker. They slowed as they approached, allowing the guards to see who they were. The scattered defenders lower their weapons slowly. They snapped them back up as another thud echoed through the corridor signaling that the Colonial forces were getting closer. One man stepped forward. “That won’t last much longer.” “Major.” “Welcome back, Doctor.” “Let’s get moving. I don’t want to face a firing squad, if I can help it.” “Bates, Fletcher, help them get him into the truck then everyone disappear. Break ranks and head to the nearest firebases. We won’t be telling you where we’re going…” “Just in case anyone gets caught,” Bates replied. “Got it boss man, be careful with this guy.” “Until we get far enough away we’re counting on all of you to hold them back so we can get this man away. Good luck to all of you, God’s Speed.” With that farewell the vehicle screamed off into the dust ridden air leaving the smattering of forces behind. A last larger thump echoed through to the ruined airlock. Almost as one the soldiers took position with guns ready, they would allow for the others to escape even at the cost of their own lives.
Chapter 16c Ash's Boomstick. CH_16c -.Falklands-_ BritishEfforts, Franks&Murray, EarthFleetBuildup; PlanetHelo; Goa'uld&Jaffa, KarlScreams British Naval Fleet Yards Prometheus Class Dockyard Falkland Islands South Atlantic During the months since the attack by the Colonials, the British forces had diverted much of their efforts away from the construction of the increased Naval and Armored units that had taken the majority of the defense budget over the last few years. More money had been found by cutting elsewhere or raising funds from the richest people of the United Kingdom. Entire fortunes had been gathered or donated to continue construction of the new Royal Star Fleet. It was odd just how many of the thousands of the richest families and aristocracy had been willing to flood the coffers of the Ministry once they had realized just how badly outnumbered and outgunned by the Colonials they were. Even more monies had been transferred from countries throughout the commonwealth and its allies. The costs of the total reconstruction of the armed forces were well in hand with enough funds for more than two dozen capital ships. Assistance from the Americans had allowed for the Falkland Islands to become the new home of the fleet yards. The single Daedalus class dockyard within the British Isles would continue as the Fleet’s main resupply dock. However, most refits would continue at the American’s far larger still unnamed shipyards in Nevada. The next stop for the Royal Space Fleet would be the construction of larger and more comprehensive shipyards deep within the Australian outback. The long-term ally and dominion of the United Kingdom had been the perfect place to position the largest single construction in British history. A flash of light deposited a single figure to the doors of the local naval commander. Commodore William Franks RN was busy at his desk signing over supplies and equipment by the truckload as they were deposited by both the Royal forces and alien ships in orbit. The familiar sound of an Asgard beaming system as well as the telltale light from under the door interrupted his musings. Crossing the room he opened to door to a tall man in a dark suit. He was about to ask what was going on as he recognized the man in front of him. Eyes widening, he held the door open for the other man. “Prime Minister, I wasn’t expecting you to make the trip here.” “Commodore Franks, it's good to finally meet you,” Prime Minister Murray smiled as he walked through the door. “I was informed that the fleet had a problem and decided to look at it for myself. Besides what’s Prime Ministerial privilege without abusing it from time to time. I had the Ajax transport me when it made orbit, seems there’s a small meeting going on between O’Neill and the Asgard.” “Ah, yes Sir. We picked up the Asgard ship coming out of hyperspace. She’s a true monster Sir." “That she is.” "Odd that she allowed us to see her incoming.” Murray looked out of the window at the Prometheus class ships under construction. To the side more docks were partially complete with hundreds of workers scurrying like ants across the huge cavern built into the ground. The closed doors high above them sealed the dockyards against everything bar a direct strike from a Goa’uld mothership. Murray watched the men and women of the construction battalions as they hollowed out more of the area around the underground facility impressed at the speed that the yards had taken shape. “Makes our own ships look like Matchbox cars and about as dangerous.” “We’ve only been building these things for three years, sir. The Asgard have had tens of thousands and help from other races to meet that potential.” “Quite right, Commodore.” Murray turned and sat in one of the soft chairs near the windows. “So what is so important that three fleet admirals pushed for this meeting?” “We have a serious problem with the fleet Sir.” Franks began. “We have three Capital ships in service with several more under construction as you know. In addition the 302 squadrons assigned to each of our protectorates have been increasing as squadrons can be completed. However once we clear nine ships and continue the growth of planet based defenses the Royal Navy and indeed the Royal Air Force and Army will find themselves running out of pilots to continue all of our defense commitments.” Murray frowned. “Are you sure about this Commodore? Our forces are one of the biggest and best trained in the world.” “Yes sir, while we have hundreds of pilots in each of the armed forces, not all are qualified or capable of flying from Carriers or anything as advanced as the F302. We need to keep a number of pilots in the more traditional military arms; transport, atmospheric defense, ground support and Search and Rescue - all need personnel. Our fighter components will be fully filled out and we’ll start scraping at the bottom of the barrel within the next six months to a year.” “What about the increased enlistments?” “We’ve got plenty more people in but none trained to the extent we need. Hell, most of the Typhoon pilots were trained for years on the Tornado and Jaguars and most of them have already been snapped up with the next generation of pilots already being assigned to the remaining Harrier and Tornado groups. Once they are experienced enough we’ll be able to transfer the personnel needed from the Typhoons as the Tornado crews are transferred out. It’ll be years before we can get any real numbers to expand the space forces, that’s why I needed the meeting, sir. “Logistics," he muttered. "What about the memory transfer machine that O’Neill’s people are building by the dozen?” “Fantastic equipment, however the memories are not necessarily the skills and abilities that go with them. We can use the memories to teach the pilots how to fly the 302s but that doesn’t not include the muscle memory nor the experience needed to fly. It cuts down on the training time but it’ll still take months to years to get the experience needed. We also lost so many pilots across the board in the Colonial Invasion attempt that we are short on instructors.” “Well, I’m hoping that you have something up your sleeve, Mister Franks. I don’t believe that the public will accept the fact that we are unable to defend our own holdings.” “We... I mean myself and my staff have something of a plan but we need for yourself and the other members of the IOA’s heads of sheds to sign off on.” “Alright Commodore, let’s have it.” “Well sir, the Navy has always had a tradition to defend our borders and peoples; however we also have a much longer tradition of hitting an enemy with all guns blazing. Like the others, we can build ships like the Daedalus and Prometheus easily and in smaller numbers than the Americans can just with personnel problems with the fighter groups.” Franks looked to the other man. “So, the plan is to do away with fighters completely.” Murray’s eyebrow rose slightly as he sat back. “Carrier warfare has been the cornerstone of naval warfare for seventy odd years Commodore. Force multiplication and projection is usually needed when taking on an enemy especially at a distance from your home country, the idea also being that they are far faster and can do more damage from multiple tangents than the normal gun platforms that came before.” “That is true, sir and when you look at atmospheric combat and traditional force projection this is true. However our enemies have all had far more forces to bring to bear than we have. The Goa’uld, Wraith, and now the Colonials are capable of launching more fighters than we can hope to face without some incredible leaps in technology. To combat this we’ve returned to the basics by removing everything that involves the use of fighters, this has been exchanged for a far heavier AA battery of rail gun and anti-fighter missiles.” The naval officer sat back. “However unlike the original Prometheus we don’t have access to a single shot weapon capable of killing a Battlestar or crippling a Ha’tak. For us the more common rail guns and plasma cannons will be the main armament. Several new designs have come off the board and will be included in the new designs.” “So we’re building a battleship?” “Closer to a heavy cruiser Sir but yes, the vessel is basically now a gun ship rather than the hybrid cruiser/carrier that the original vessels have been designed as. We don’t have the capability of building massive guns like we had on the larger wet navy ships of the past hundred years. Both Prometheus and Daedalus variants have been redesignated Achilles and Exeter respectively.” “Historical whimsy, Commodore?” “We have an Ajax already Sir, it seemed the right thing to do.” “Naturally. What are the downsides to this redesign?” It wasn’t a question. “The logistics supply will be taxed slightly more as a new design of heavy rail gun will need to be constructed and fitted, production of armour piercing and Lucifer rail gun rounds will need to be sped up to equip these vessels. The reconstruction of the flanks will need heavy reinforcement and a larger fuel supply for the plasma weaponry. However the majority of the cost will be recouped by the removal of the landing bays, the on board fighter groups as a reduced crew. The majority of the designs are already complete and awaiting orders to begin construction. That is why I was attempting to set up a meeting between us sir. The three ships we have partially constructed are far enough along for the changes to be made immediately increasing our firepower by several times instead of launching carriers.” “You are sure that this is the best bet for us?” “The Daedalus class is only useful as long as their limited missile and smaller rail guns hold out. A larger calibre of solid shells and those Plasma weapons that the SGC have designed will increase the firepower of a normal Daedalus by four times. A dedicated gunship will have more than twenty times the firepower of a bog standard ship,” Franks said. “To boil it down, Mister Prime Minister, we have nothing capable of taking on their battlestars in one on one combat. Their flak and CIWS are far too capable for massed nuclear launches. They have more fighters in one attack fleet than we can send to meet them using every space based starfighter we can bring to bear, and with the exception of using Lucifer rounds we can’t scratch the Colonial warships.” Murray held up a hand palm out. “I’ve got you Commodore. Without something heavier than the American’s ‘Deep Space Carriers’ we’ll find it more difficult to hold the line.” “That’s the size of it sir. The fleet that stopped the Colonials were lucky. Without the Naquada we had in the warheads, not to mention the Mark Nine warhead the Americans have nicknamed the ‘Gate buster,’” Franks replied sniffing derisively, “typically charmless name for an American weapon of mass destruction. We do however have a few ideas to increase the capability of the other ships. If they are deemed a success on the Exeter and Achilles then they will be refit onto the rest of our ships when they are rotated back for servicing.” “Alright Commodore, I’ll look over this report when it hits my desk. If and I stress if, it seems to be a good plan then I will make the request to the IOA to continue construction of these new classes of vessel. Keep building the rest of the ships as best you can without compromising neither the next launch date nor the chance to build them with your modifications.” “We’ll try Sir but with the supplies and technical help from the other races construction of the entire fleet worldwide has dropped by over a third. We may have to finish construction of this batch before we can add the new additions depending on the time taken by the IOA to make the decision.” “Bluntly speaking, until they get their heads out their arses and let us get on with the war?” “You may say that sir. I couldn’t possibly comment.” Murray smiled at the response. “Commodore, I’m going to suggest strongly that the Royal Navy is permitted to build these new ships as quickly as possible as long as you can confirm beyond any doubt that you can build them and keep them from costing too much more than the normal Daedalus. Also if you can prove to me that the ships will be that much better than anything else we can build right now then I’ll also make the request to expand construction of our yards to allow us to build both classes in larger numbers.” “The cost of these ships will be far less than the carrier variants. We'll save both their construction and maintenance. I’ll have the details you want by the end of the week. Sir, permission to speak freely and off the record?” “Speak your mind Commodore. This is your command.” “I don’t wish to sound unfair or biased sir, but I would suggest that you talk to the fleet Admirals before this plan is put through the IOA or the commons. I don’t believe that neither they nor many of the other world’s armed forces would accept a doctrine change so completely and so quickly. We didn’t the last time and it cost us dearly.” “Another revolt of the Admirals, Commodore?” “I don’t think so sir, just a friendly warning.” “I’ll heed that advice, Commodore; I’ll get this underway as soon as I return to Downing Street. You’ll have your answer within the next few weeks if not sooner.” “Thank you Prime Minister.” “Now care to show me around the Commonwealth’s most advanced construct? I’d like to see just where our fleet will be built and how close we are to the next launch.” “Right this way, sir.” Franks stood up. “I warn you though sir; more than a few of the people down there will be surprised at meeting you, especially those that aren’t from this planet.” Planet ‘Helo’ Colonial Expansion Zone Cyrannus Sector Darkness receded as the door to the locked room scraped open, the lone figure inside squinted into the light as it flooded the room. Two of the armoured figures that had attacked the encampment stood in the doorway. With armour and weapons in evidence the Colonial decided against making any attempt to overpower on or both of the men. “You, come with us.” “Alright, alright I’m coming.” Unfurling from his single room he walked through into the lit corridors of the half crippled base. Since they had been overrun, the Colonials occupied more than one of the former living quarters that had been used to hold the soldiers and sailors that had been taken prisoner. Shielding his eyes as the bright light bombarding his senses he shuffled down the hall. One of the armoured nut jobs nudged him with the closed end of the staff pushing his forward faster. “One more time shit for brains and I’ll feed that thing to you,” he growled. If the alien recognised what he said he didn’t show it and the three of them continue down into the command centre where he had met with Colonel Grant. The entire area had been transformed by the aliens into a parody of a throne room, gold and precious stones were scattered throughout the room. Silks, tapestries and cushions had been laid around what could only be described as the most uncomfortable chair the Colonial had ever seen. Golden with leather seats and backing, a throne was the closest he could bring himself to think of it but a torture rack was the main thought to go through his mind. Why anyone in their right mind would want to sit in something like that escaped him. The thought that maybe the user was a masochist of some kind which would explain a lot about these people. The guard to his right nudged him again with the stick right into the same area he had nudged him before. Spinning around the Colonial wrenched the weapon from the man and slammed the reverse end into the alien’s face. Blood spattered from its mouth and into the air. Less than a second later that same guard found the top end of the weapon slammed into his damaged jaw shattering it and breaking the vast majority of his teeth driving them down his throat. The Colonial didn’t see the two staffs that collided with the back of his head sending him sprawling to the ground, the staff in his hands being wrenched from that as he fell. Boots and staff ends slammed into his body causing injuries on top of those already slowly healing from the attack on the base. He was still reeling from the head wound therefore he didn’t hear a voice command them to stop. All he knew was that the beating had ceased, allowing him to breath. “Bring him to his knees.” Two pairs of hands picked the young man up forcing him to his knees in front of the figure. Bringing his head up forcefully by the hair blood and sweat from the beating fogging his eyes he could only make out the grating double voice of the speaker. As she approached he swore that her eyes flashed gold behind green as his own cleared somewhat. Unsurprised at what he saw, he merely stared at the redheaded woman with the familiar face but unfamiliar countenance. “Tell me why did you make that ill-advised attempt on an escape?” “It wasn’t an escape. I told him that if he hit me once more them I’d feed him his weapon. He hit me and I force fed him the flat end. Next time, I’ll feed it to him the other way.” “The other way?” “Give me a chance and I’ll demonstrate it.” The alien merely laughed. “You are an interesting one, human.” “I like to keep my audience riveted.” “You will be a worthy mate for this host,” the being replied allowing her red hair to drop across her shoulders. “She seems to already have feelings towards you, not love but very much an interest in you. You are fit and strong you will be the first of our new Jaffa. Both figure and mind will be modified to our preferences.” Walking up to the knelt figure she lovingly ran her fingers through his short hair before moving her palm to his face. Whispering gently to his face she activated the ribbon device pouring energy into his brain and body manipulating his mind and soul down to this very essence. Karl Agathon screamed himself hoarse. He would never be the same ever again.
Chapter 17a Ash's Boomstick. CH_17a -.Crucible-_ RedAlert, Jack&Davis, Sam&Daniel, Buzby, Teal'c, ThorVsWraith, FleetBattle A slightly longer than usual chapter, I'm afraid there wont be a new one for a few weeks at the least due to an illness thats effecting my equilibrium and concentration. It's easily fixed just annoying. Chapter 17 'The Crucible' Homeworld Security Command Centre Nevada “Red Alert all stations Red Alert! IOA defences to maximum readiness.” Jack O’Neill shot out of his office the other members of SG1 and Colonel Davis hot on his heels. The conversation about the Asgard request had taken up the majority of their time. The IOA were to be informed as to the request as soon as they could make sense of just what they were being asked for. O’Neill and company had been closed up in his office for almost an entire day trying to figure out just what was needed by the Asgard. The Crucible’s primary command centre was fully manned before O’Neill even managed to drop down to his chair. All around him dozens of technicians and officers were linking with other stations situated throughout the world. Communications operatives were talking to ships in orbit telling some to leave the system if they could otherwise to land or drop into orbit behind the defence perimeter. “…Cargo at Nellis Air Force Base…” “No, the satellites are not for sale…” “Look the Wraith 'eat' any race they think they can get sustenance from. Yes that includes half human and half anything else you can name….” “… That is kind of you to say. Both other ships are being angled to your underside…” Jack hit the platform running stopping next to the command dais alongside the shift commander; a junior Lt, he had snatched from the SGC command room. He had done this once he realised that he wouldn’t be able to reassign Walter from his place as Landry’s aide and senior NCO, but then again Jack had realised without Walter the place would likely shut down. “Lt, what the hell is going on?” “Sir, we’ve picked up four ships incoming with a fifth a little way behind.” “The Daedalus?” “I believe so, sir. Two of the ships share a silhouette and are towing a third larger vessel.” “The remains of the attack fleet,” Carter stated. “They must be in worse shape than we thought.” “Can we get through to them?” “I can try, sir,” the comms officer answered. “Black Knight to Flying Wing, come in, Flying Wing.” Static from a badly damaged transmitter crackled through the speakers. Another request from the officer met with the same response. A further request was as useless as the first. Damaged systems or some form of jamming could have been responsible for either, considering the range. Gradually a signal began to break through the static apparently boosted somewhat. “This is Flying Wing.... mming......sig...... ET... hours, twe..............reinforcements requi....... imm......” “That's the best I can get, sir. The Asgard may have a better chance at getting through.” “Put Thor on the line.” “O’Neill.” “Thor, you reading the incoming ships?” “Of course, one vessel is a Daedalus Class Battle cruiser; two are Asgard Beliskner Class Cruisers. And the fourth is a Battlestar. A rapidly closing Wraith hive is several light years behind them on a direct course for Earth’s solar system. We are unable to determine how badly damaged the vessels are from this distance however we are endeavouring to contact our vessels for a status report. We will let you know if we are able to receive any information from the fleet.” The radio cut off leaving the room in silence. “Defence sitrep.” Davis ordered. “Houdini system is online. White Rook is acknowledging defences are active. Black Rook and Black Bishop are buttoned up and rail guns are in position. Shield covers are primed and ready for activation. White Queen has squadrons on rotation, 302s on five minute warning. White King, Black King and Black Queen are heading for shelters,” comms reported. “Bulldog wing, Eagle Wing and Alpha through Charlie flotillas are online and awaiting orders," Flight Command reported. “All surface shielding is active, all defence installations are locked down and ready,” the duty officer reported. “We’re just awaiting the final ok from the Antarctic outpost.” “All things considered, I’m not sure that relying on the outpost is worth it this time,” Davis replied. “We had information sent through a few weeks ago from the research team. It looks like the damage from the reactor overload was worse than we thought. Half of the launching mechanisms are out and we’re down to less than eight percent of the magazine storage. Sir, given the fact that the Wraith managed to take down entire groups of Ancient warships armed with full drone launchers, I’m not convinced that what we have left will destroy it and if we use the entire magazine then the outpost will be useless.” “If they get close enough to fire on the planet, then we may have to,” Carter replied. “I’m not sure the Houdini system can deflect or erase energy weapons of that power and size. Even without the cruisers and their darts we’re risking a bleed over into populated areas.” O’Neill intently studied the screen in front of him. The Houdini system had been augmented by more launches over the course of the year, with ring of rail gun and staff weapon armed satellites around the east/west hemisphere divide. Even with the thin shell of weapons it was unlikely that they could take on anything bigger than a single Battlestar without help. The fleet had fortunately grown far faster than many thought. He had misjudged the construction of the Prometheus class ships worldwide, as he focused more on the larger Daedalus class ships to be used as a defensive line. Four had been launched by the British, German and Russian shipyards within the last few days. While a lot of the internals were still missing such as crew habitation, the secondary systems and the fighter contingent were intact and battle ready. More than a score of the smaller Apollos were arranged around them in escort order headed at the front by the single active Daedalus class ship remaining in the fleet. He desperately needed the damaged Prometheus and Korolev back and in working order for this fight but not even round the clock repairs and help from off-world could get them both in orbit and under their own power in the time needed. Without the technology inherent in those ships the only heavy hitter left was the Ajax. Her missiles and Lucifer round would hurt the hive but her newly installed pulse cannon would hopefully change the odds from impossible to only slightly improbable. All he could hope for was the arrival of the remaining ships of the attack fleet in good condition and order to make up the numbers. “Sir, Commander Thor has a signal from our incoming ships.” “Pipe it down here.” “Black Knight this is Flying Wing, do you read?” “Wing this is Knight, good to hear from you Daedalus.” “Glad you can hear us, General. The Wraith are approximately three hours behind us. We should make it back within the next hour, less if we can find a safe harbour for the New Horizon.” “Is she still armed and combat capable?” “Somewhat, Sir.” “Then bring her back; we need the guns. We’ll have a full resupply ready for your ships when you get back.” “It’ll take longer than three hours to rearm, General.” “R&D are working on that Colonel. Watch your back.” “We intend to, sir. We’ll be with you at the battle, one way or another.” “Black Knight Out.” The screen blanked out showing the face of Thor aboard his ship. The grey face was an inexpressive as always but still Jack could swear he could see a touch of annoyance and frustration under the mask. “The fleet, once they arrive, might tip the balance O’Neill, however I wish to take the forefront of the battle once the Wraith enter the system. If we are to request favours then we can at least give a reason for them to be accepted.” “It’s all yours, Thor. Give em hell.” “I intend to O’Neill, I intend to.” *** “Reversion alarm.” On the contact screen high above the personnel manning their station, four signals began pulsing as they emerged from hyperspace. Within seconds, all four stabilised the light green of friendly units while next to each signal data scrolled informing the room of the identity of the newly arrived ships. Several of the longer ranged telescopes picked up on the new arrivals. Still pictures and video captures appeared on the multitude of screens throughout the control room. “Holy Hannah,” Sam carter whispered “They made it back after that?” O’Neill replied. Each of the returning ships were damaged badly enough that it could be seen easily even from the rough video feed. As they closed with the ships already heading their way, the screen changed to a sensor display from the Ajax. The four ships were a mess, blackened and cracked armour dotted the formerly grey and smooth hull of the Daedalus class warship. Entire sections of the hull were peeling up or down where impacts from plasma or solid debris had punctured the underlying structure. As bad as the Daedalus appeared, the Battlestar behind her was even worse off. One of her fighter pods had been gutted by heavy fire leaving a hollowed out charred wreck attached by bent and torn pylons. The journey through hyperspace had added to the damage of the already compromised hull. More than one engine was gone and entire swathes of metal were missing from the armour belts that covered the entire ship. Turrets and point defences were gone and entire missile batteries were just holes in the structure now. If more than half of the ship was still inhabitable then the design and construction was far superior to most other ships. Unlike the others the Asgard ships were visibly scarred and blackened but completely intact, their more advanced technology meant that the hull and armour was far stronger than anything that could be created by human hands. Combined with their shields and self repair systems both Beliskner Class vessels would look as pristine and brand new as they could after everything that they had been through, even so they had taken as much of a beating as the others had as the Wraith began to realise the large silver warships were far more dangerous. All four began to slow as they broke from hyperspace. The human ships were badly damaged enough so that their engines would have failed under any heavier use. The fact that all four ships had survived the run back to Earth under such conditions was impressive and indeed a testament to the engineers and crew of each of the fleet ships. Several smaller vessels broke off from the cluster to the other side of the screen accelerating hard towards the four ships. Shields raised and weapons locked they scanned the returning fleet finding all defences and weapons offline. “Buzby to Black Knight, we are beginning flyby for positive identification. Weapons on standby.” “Ok the transmission but hold it in the buffer until we have positive ID,” Davis replied. “If it's them, then they managed to hold those ships together beyond anything that we could have imagined.” “Transmission holding Sir.” “Buzby to Black Knight, Visual confirmed, One Daedalus Class Ship, One Battlestar, Two Asgard Beliskner Class. All scans indicate human and Asgard life signs, they’re clean.” “Thank you Buzby, escort the Battlestar to pre-arranged position and take flanks.” “Acknowledged, Buzby out.” “Buzby?” Captain Reynolds asked from the tactical table. “British humour, apparently,” Davis replied, “something to do with a bird and a telephone.” “I’ll take you word for it, Sir.” The mass of smaller signals surrounded the massive block on the screen as it coalesced into the vague shape of a Battlestar. Slowly the monolithic vessel turned from the surviving flotilla and into orbit high above Earth. The Apollo class simply lay close by the flanks of the former Colonial ship awaiting orders while the Battlestar awaited orders to undergo replenishment. “White Bishop to Flying Wing.” “This is Flying Wing, go ahead.” “Commencing resupply in twenty minutes, have all crew standing by.” “Understood White Bishop, we’ll be ready.” Within the time limit already authorised the Daedalus class vessel a very odd plan came to fruition as the resupply and repair of the warship began to get underway. Flashes of light bounced throughout the vessel as the ship’s remaining crew and injured were removed from the ship and placed at the mercy of the IOA’s military hospital in Delhi. Replacing them was a new, fresh crew ready for the oncoming battle. Yet more of the lights slipped through the missile tubes and rail gun magazine. Where there were empty spaces were now filled with armament replacing the warheads and projectiles used against the Wraith horde. Lastly, a barrage of beams flashed across the command deck dropping a new command crew onto the bridge of the vessel. “Daedalus to Black Knight.” Teal’c began, “Command crew are in position. We are currently commanding crew and weapons systems. All seems to be in order.” The new helmsman could be heard over the channel. “Missiles and rail guns read as fully armed. Crew are being counted as we speak.” We should be ready to go once the shields have been reset."” Teal’c bowed his head to the other man. “I have been informed the ship’s weapons are ready for battle O’Neill. Once we have tested them and accounted for the crew, we shall take our place on the firing line.” “Thanks Teal’c” Jack replied. “Black Knight out.” “I still don’t believe that worked,” Daniel responded. “No offence meant, Sam.” “None taken. I wish I’d thought of it. Since he got the Plasma cannon working Felgar’s ideas have been gaining more attention and some of the stranger ones have been redressed. He reprogrammed the SGC’s own transporters to resupply the Daedalus and New Horizon in seconds instead of hours. The Battlestar took a lot longer due to its size and complexity but still it was done in a fraction of the time. If the weapons and crew are all accounted for and active then we’ll see about using that instead of relying solely on tenders.” “I thought he was on his honeymoon.” “He is, but...” “Chloe’s gonna be pissed,” Daniel smirked. “She was there helping him,” Sam replied smirking back “A stranger husband and wife I’ve yet to find,” Jack cut in. “We’ve got three hours before the Wraith get here. Who’s up for jello?” **** Earth/Lunar orbital path. Fleet rendezvous point. Three hours later death came from on high. After a wait of several weeks the Wraith had arrived, the eleven kilometre long ship broke free of hyperspace hull all but intact and weapons armed. The living hull absorbed light and head from the closest star increasing the regeneration and strength of the hull armour. Turning to face their new feeding ground the Pegasus natives watched the assembled ships of the Tau’ri’s defenders. On the surface rail gun batteries locked into position around their charges. Anti-fighter and anti-ship missiles dedicated to close range combat overlapped with the rail guns creating kill zones far larger and more deadly than anything that existed before. Nuclear warheads were attached with naquada charges increasing their yield by a thousand times. For once. Every nuclear power in the world handed their missile controls over to Homeworld Security willing to trust them to defend the planet against what was coming. Each connection could be broken from either end if any of the countries involved found their missiles being appropriated for any reason other than defending against extra-terrestrial enemies. More than a thousand specially rebuilt missiles had been put together to reach outside Earth orbit before they went into their terminal phase. Deep inside a bunker below the Plains, Her Majesties Station Salisbury was fully active. The Houdini system activated the hundreds of satellites reorienting those outwards, pulling the web tight. Several dozen larger variants swung around towards the fleet the heavier weapons of the Artemis System receiving scans from the planet as well as the large number of ships in local space. The defences were designed around destroying larger numbers of lesser ships as well as their fighter contingents, but against something as large and as powerful as the hive ship this would only cause pinpricks in comparison. The final defence, the Antarctic outpost, was active with a German Army officer now in command of the chair. At ninth or tenth in ATA strength, he was the only person except O’Neill within range of the outpost. The rest were either off world or were needed elsewhere for one reason or another. Powered by four separate new generation reactors would prevent what had happened during the last attack. This time they were taking no chances with what little they had left of the Ancient weapons system. “Launch 302 Squadrons; go to hot standby on all atmospheric craft.” “Black Knight to all fighter stations, immediate launch of all 302s. Repeat all 302s immediate launch, rendezvous at outer atmospheric envelope. Primary target area will be transmitted by the flagship,” Davis ordered through the main communications channels. “Atmospheric craft to hot standby, planetary readiness is at red.” “Carrier groups begin launch preparations,” Comms began. “Ready squadrons for immediate launch once break through has been confirmed. Be prepared to reinforce other squadrons as when necessary.” “All fleet ships, this is O’Neill. Launch fighters and take formation.” The Ajax and Daedalus took point within their flotillas, Prometheus and Apollo class ships flanking both guns and missiles locked and loaded. The Battlestar New Horizon manoeuvred to unmask her forward guns, opening missiles hatches while loading their heavier guns with Lucifer rounds ready to take on the hive. Around her more Apollos and her own Raptor and Viper stood by missiles loaded and armed, but even with these ships there was far less firepower than had fought the Wraith Hives only a few weeks previously. A handful of drone and nuke armed Puddle jumpers flanked the massive Battlestar hoping to lend their own firepower to the former Colonial ship. Their drones would be able to hurt the ship before it could break through the thin line that the allied ships had made. If not, then there wouldn’t be much left of them to worry about the effect the Wraith would have on the Earth. “Fighters have launched, Sir. 302s are in position or en route. Total commitment has been confirmed from all stations and airfields. Fleet command has routed to the Ajax due to damage caused to the Daedalus. We’re the fallback in case of communications disruption during the battle.” “Bring up tactical view on the main screen. Separate our units from our allies’ signals.” The massive screen changed from the global defence profile to that of the much smaller area of the fleet’s defence position. Dozens of larger signals were separated from the melange of others holding the line around the planetary orbit. Clustered around each group, hundreds to thousands of tiny dots signalled the milling star fighters, mainly the F-302 superiority fighters. But handfuls of other fighters on lease or bought from other powers were taking their places with the fleet. Rounding them out were dozens on Vipers flown by volunteers from the Colonial POWs that had survived the battle against this hive once before or agreed to help in return for their own freedom back to the Colonies. Several Ha’taks and a trio of Al’kesh backstopped the rest of the fleet holding position to encourage the rest of the line to hold. If the humans and Asgard were unable to stop the hive, the Jaffa would try their best to defeat the hive before they were forced to pull back or leave before being destroyed. Teal’c’s request to the Jaffa High Council had been agreed upon and the task force dispatched within the day to assist their allies. The rest of the force was coalesced into a third set or supporting ships, the single Battlestar from the surviving attack fleet and a handful of cruisers armed with both missiles and Lucifer rounds in prodigious numbers. A small number of allied ships from other powers had arrived to face the hive flanked by several more Apollos and the jumpers sent from Atlantis. In all, the firepower they had would be difficult to stop a single Ha’tak/. But it might be the necessary reinforcement needed to finish of the hive if it broke through the first line. The two sides closed ranks. At the forefront, the fleet parted to allow the giant Asgardian warships to pull out of the line directly into the forward arc of the Wraith ships. At point, the O’Neill- three kilometres of metal and crystals faced off eleven of biomechanical creations. The two most powerful ships of two very different races faced off in the space between the Earth and its sole natural satellite. The two flanking ships, both Beliskners, dropped back from the much more massive ship settling into position out of range of the Wraith ship. Their actions left their own Flagship alone to face to face with its foe. Aboard the larger vessel the wraith known as Michael grimaced nastily as a hologram of a tiny grey alien materialised onto the bridge of the surviving hive, stood next to him the Hive’s queen merely looked at the Asgard curiously but dismissively “This is Supreme Commander Thor of the Asgard, Commander of the Asgard fleet, member of the Asgard High Council allies to the Ancients, friends to the people of Earth and defender of the Protected Planets. Stop here now or you will be shown no mercy." “So an ally of those we destroyed and of those that will feed us well for many years. If you were able to stop this ship then you would have long before. Leave now and you will be spared for the moment, your bodies will be unlikely to give us sustenance.” “We are aware of your people and of your disregard to the lives of the world below us and their brethren. You destroyed a galaxy and wish the same for this one, we are aware that we were unable to save our allies from you; we will not do the same for their children. As you have made your decision evident, in return I have been forced to make mine. To stop you and your callous destruction of those you see as little more than food or playthings you will not leave this system alive" “I do not believe that you have the power to stop us, it is a shame but then we can simply pick up where we left off after your ship has been taken out of the equation. Open fire.”
Chapter 17b Ash's Boomstick. CH_17b -.SolOrbit-_ SpaceBattle, Thor, ColonialsShock'd, WraithQueen, Jack&Thor, Fitz&Padre, Salvation&Plans, Monos Aboard the Wraith ship, dozens of weapons turrets moved into place targeting the silver vessel. As if daring them to pass, the Asgard simply stayed in place its own weapons stationary pointing forwards at the tip of the hive. With one voice plasma burst from the Wraith ship slamming into the shields of the O’Neill lighting up the sphere of energy surrounding the warship. Each weapon increased fire rapidly sending more and more pulses into their enemy. The Asgard ship simply sat in space accepting the energy blasts. While the incoming fire increased, the bridge of the O’Neill was far more sedate than the space outside of the vessel. Thor watched as the forward shields of his vessel faded in and out with every salvo spilling their energies across the barrier. Unlike his usual actions of simply taking on an enemy he needed to show the people of the Earth of just what their allies were capable of. He might be a military commander but through his years on and off of the High Council Thor had learned the necessity of politics. The show he was about to put on would prove to the IOA and the public that helping the Asgard would be prudent. Sitting back in his chair the small grey being activated the communications unit again this time simply sending his voice across the entire solar system for every being, be they Human, Wraith, Asgard or other. “So be it.” *** Scanners throughout every fleet began to go crazy as energy readings aboard the massive warship climbed higher than anyone had ever seen momentarily overriding the stealth systems that the Asgard had aboard every ship in their fleet showing for a split second the pure power that poured through the innards of Thor’s Chariot. Huge pulses rained onto the forward hull of the hive ship the ionic weapons shattering the outer hull blowing holes through hundreds of meters of metal, chitin and flesh. Wraith soldiers and captive humans alive were vaporised as energy sliced through the inner sections, more explosions erupted from the compromised hull shattering yet more of the armour sending it spinning into space. Even as the first bolts wreaked havoc across the massive ship’s forward sections more fire hit the exact same parts of the hull blasting through weakened bulkheads. The effect was as if the hull were a sugar cube in water, more than a kilometre of the wraith ship seemed to dissolve under the first salvos of ion fire, plasma weapons and power supplies ceased to exist as the Asgard fire blew through the defences. Every erg of energy available to the Hive ship blazed away at the oncoming storm plasma cannons overheated as they attempted to waive of the Asgard ship, concentrating everything they could on one spot on the shield did nothing as more power from the incredibly powerful Neutrino/Ion reactors reinforced the shielding. Moving forward slowly but steadily the O’Neill reset her weapons and began firing into the inner hull where the forward armour had been all but destroyed. The closer the Asgard came the more difficult it became to hit the massive silver ship forcing the Hive to turn away, weapons unable to pivot and keep a target stopped firing transferring yet more energy to those that could. Mere seconds had passed since the fight had begun and the last remaining darts took to the air heading for the closest part of the Asgard hull determined to do as much damage as possible. Inside the O’Neill Thor watched as several attacked his shields while others made an attempt to find a way around to the rear arc where they assumed his shields would be far weaker. While the aft side was weakened compared to the immense energies deflecting the fire of the hive it was still more than capable of taking anything that the darts could do. The darts closed strafing the shields and dodging the expected return fire running straight into a sweeping energy field that dissolved them completely removing them from the battle as is swatting a fly. Another wave caused the rest to disappear before shutting off. The darts had been less than useless in the battle as the Asgard ship ceased fire and move up and above the lumbering hive “The Asgard have existed for many millennia and we have fought and died to save those that deserve it, those who seek to destroy and murder others have been stopped and for as long as we live you we will not allow for the cold blooded destruction of any world under our protection. This world is one of those protected, you have made a mistake. One you will not make again.” **** “Carter?” “Sir?” “The Asgard don’t really show their emotions much right?” “Not usually, so no Sir.” “So I would be right it saying that Thor could not have just seemed like he was pissed?” “Normally so, yes.” “He’s pissed isn’t he?” “I think so Sir.” *** The arcing O’Neill broke off its turn turning back to the hive spinning almost in place. A split second later, Thor ordered weapons free and watched as his ship hammered into the Hive with a full weapons salvo. Aboard the hive, the Wraith could only watch in horror as strips of armour and hull plating simply vanished under the probing assault of the Asgard ship’s modified transporter waves while the exposed inner hull underneath was shattered by ion pulses annihilating the delicate internal systems flashing thousands of meters of corridors and junctions into so much dust and vapour. The starboard side of the Wraith ship shuddered under the punishment. With the forward section already destroyed, the surviving ‘prong’ had already caused immense strain on the rear of the ship. The two flanking sections surrounding a massive gap in the centre were now only anchored by the rear engine blocks. As they took more and more fire, the two sections began to crack and sway under the movement of the Hive ship. Huge chunks of flesh, metal, chitin and armour exploded from the compromised internals throwing those parts into space. A final barrage from the ion cannons separated an entire three kilometre swath of the ship from the rest of the hull throwing the center of mass off of its axis. The Wraith ship had been doomed from the moment it had fired on the Asgard ship, but for them it was now far too late as they realised the true danger that they were facing. Dozens of humans and Colonial ships sat staring in horror, surprise and fear at the massacre before them. Six ships from three races had been necessary to take down several Wraith ships. Time and again the Tau’ri had been found wanting as they faced the overwhelming firepower and size of the Hives unable to stop the deaths of other cultures. Even now they would find it all but impossible to stop this last hive from wiping out the people of Earth and by and large the rest of their allies, their only hope would be a large enough Jaffa armada to destroy the monstrous vessel. That a single Asgard ship could so completely shatter its enemy so quickly was unthinkable. The Goa’uld had more than once taken on the Asgard to their doom, yet had seemed to be far more of a threat than this one massive ship had ever been. Still the assembled peoples from a half dozen powers galaxywide watched as this enemy found themselves so completely outmatched. Plumes of flame burst from the hull before winking out as their fuel exhausted itself by the single detonation. Shattered armour exploded throughout the ship, fragments vaporising under the bombardment unable to take the pure power of the Asgard’s main weapons. Aboard the Battlestar, the Colonial crew watched from view ports, airlocks and sensor scans piped directly to each ship in the fleet. Only a year ago they had attacked this world with far more ships against only six Tau’ri ships. Now the were silent witnesses as a single massive ship far larger than any warship ever built by the Colonials, was single-handedly taking everything that the larger ship could give and then hitting back even harder. It was already known to the surviving Colonials that the humans had allies of a non-human variety. Those ships that had fought alongside them and taken significant damage were operated by these small grey aliens that had upgraded some of their ship’s systems. Other ships had appeared during their forced orbiting on this world. Some of those some gold and pyramidal shaped, some green and blocky, all built by those that were not from the Earth or the Colonies. Now they saw just what the Tau’ri could call on, a magnificently deadly ship beyond the dreams of their greatest scientists and into the realms of fiction or insanity. Another barrage of beams and pulses crossed in space impacting into shields and armour one dissipated into nothingness. Other beams vaporized everything it touched, turning into it particles scattering throughout space. They, the great Colonial navy had attacked their brothers with the largest force in known history. Now they knew that if they had fought back with a single ship of this kind facing them, every man and woman in the fleet would have been destroyed in minutes. The Tau’ri were undoubtedly powerful but the fact that they could call on one or more ships like that was terrifying. If the Tau’ri had wanted them dead then they would have been long ago. It would take little for only three or four of those monsters to wipe out all life within the colonies. Even after the losses they had taken in the last battle, some of the Colonials refused to believe that what they were seeing was the true power of the aliens. Others knew that the battle itself could best be described as one between the Gods. That one ship was simply capable of destroying anything in its way scared them all beyond belief. The Colonies needed to learn about this as soon as possible. The Colonies were an insignificant part of one sector of an entire galaxy, one that could be destroyed in mere hours with no hope of stopping them. If the Colonial branch of humanity was to survive past the next few months, then the Quorum had to be informed to make an informed and blatantly obvious decision. Aboard the other ships of the fleet humans and aliens alike watched the almost mythical power of one of the oldest living race was poured into an enemy for the first time in the memory of many races. Legend had stated that at the greatest time of peril that a great leader would stand up and defend their worlds from their greatest threat. For the Earth that time had come. More energy pulsed from the Asgard ship under the hands of their greatest Commander leaving the Wraith ship to writhe and shudder under the immense bombardment of the O’Neill. On the planet’s surface, the IOA, Stargate Command and more than a dozen other stations were watching and recording every moment of this one sided slaughter. This was for the first time that Earth got to truly see what an Asgard ship was capable of when let loose. Fear and respect echoed throughout each and every man and woman who saw the footage, several of whom were already beginning to craft their own demands as to how the Asgard would leave their great project in the hands of the Earth. *** “Increase fire, destroy that ship!” “My queen the weapons systems have been damaged. All section throughout this vessel have been breached or destroyed.” A series of explosions rippled through the ship throwing Wraith across the bridge. Backs and ribs were shattered as they collided with the bulkheads. Others crashed through control consoles, impaled by the bone like growths that attached the electronic equipment to the main systems. “This is impossible! No ship living in this time can destroy one of our hives!” the Queen screamed above the sound of explosions rippling through her hive. As if to defy her statement, yet more pieces of the hull disappearing into the void. She could only stare at the readouts, forced to watch as power generators exploded annihilating the others close by. She turned and snarled at the wraith hybrid. “You knew of these people, these Asgard.” “Only what you know, that the Earth people had far more powerful allies than we had seen before.” “You knew they would destroy us!” she screamed. “The only chance we had to take our fill for the rest of our existence and now you have killed us.” “You were a fool to believe that two hives would destroy the entire defences of a single world that was more than ready for us. If you had listened to me we would have survived to destroy our enemies on Earth. Now the rest of our people have no idea how to make it to this galaxy and to allow our people to grow.” The Queen growled and slammed her hand into Michael’s chest feeding on him. Screaming his own challenge, he backhanded the now former Queen clamping his own feeding hand around her neck absorbing the energy she already had directly from her body. Only moments, later the two way struggle ended the only way it could. Already the vast majority of the crew and prisoners aboard the Wraith ship had been killed unwary of the oncoming attack. Only a very few at the very rear of the vessel were still alive yet knew they were unable to escape. The queen and her retinue were dead and her voice had screamed throughout their minds sending many mad while others simply died. None of them felt the burning heat of the Ion bolts as they shattered what little remained of the forward hull, the impacts setting off the generators and engine blocks. Outside, the Asgard ceased moving as the last of their weapons fire annihilated the reactor shielding igniting the ship from the inside. The reactors detonated sending explosions throughout the shell of the vessel. Engines followed as the uncontrolled reactions blew through them. Incredible energies ate away at the living ship further increasing in power as it consumed fuels at an astonishing rate. As the last dregs of oxygen and flesh were exhausted, the fireball snuffed itself out in the airless depths of space leaving just a few square kilometres of armour and bulkheads drifting blacked and dead in space a mute testament to the victorious warship standing guard high above her. *** “General” “Uhh, yeah.” “Commander Thor is hailing us.” “Put him on.” A hologram of the diminutive alien appeared in front of the main display screen. Thor could easily have simply beamed them up, himself down or sent the hologram without warning. However once again, he had allowed his knowledge of politics to colour his intentions and informed them of his wish to talk to them instead. “O’Neill the Wraith ship will no longer be a problem. I shall return to the surface soon to continue negotiations in regards to our request. We do not have much time before I am forced to return to my homeworld.” “Got it Thor. We’re about ready to give the request to the IOA anyway.” “Thank you for your prompt decision. It is my hope that you will agree to our request.” “Thor Buddy, if I was up to me you’d have a cabin in the Bahamas and beer for life, but it’s not in my hands.” O’Neill shrugged. “But, I will put my support and that of Homeworld Security, the SGC and anyone else I can get my hands on to try and push it through. General Hammond, President Hayes and anyone else that owes me a favour will do so.” “You are putting much on the line for us, O’Neill.” “I put a lot on the line recently, Thor. I’m not sure that my actions will be forgiven enough for this request to go through.” “I do not know what you mean, O’Neill.” “Let’s just say I’m not the IOA’s favourite person right now and they might try to get at me through you," Jack replied. “I’ll still do whatever I can Thor, just don’t be surprised if they try to get something else out of this.” Confusion dotted the faces of the men and women around them. O’Neill merely shrugged and left it at that. Thor nodded to the General before the hologram disappeared leaving the four humans surrounding the space he had been. The two Colonels and archaeologist looked at O’Neill. “Long story kids, and one that I think we should take elsewhere,” O’Neill said. “Before it gets out that I might as well have shot myself, it might be less painful in the end.” *** Underground Sanctuary Picon City Catacombs Picon. “Slowly my son, move slowly. You are still weak from the abuse you have taken.” Fitz’s eyes flickered open slightly as he came to, he tried to move his arms only to find a couple of gentle hands holding him down. It was a very different feeling to the ropes, chains and rough hands of his jailors. Turning his head, he looked to a weathered but smiling face. The man spoke again reassuring the RAF Pilot that he would be alright. Giving up on moving he simply let his exhaustion, pain and the remnants of the drugs in his system send him back under again. It was an indeterminate amount of time before he awoke again. This time he found himself almost alone with a single woman watching over him. ‘Nurse or Guard’ Fitz wondered. The woman looked at him with a very beautiful smile before heading out through the curtains covering a dimly lit room. It was only a minute later when the woman returned with an older man whom he recognised as having spoken to him earlier. “How do you feel?” “What?” The man nodded gently. “I asked you, how do you feel? We’ve been watching over you since we managed to remove you from the military base in the capital.” “Where?” “All in good time, my son.” Fitz was slightly bewildered by the fact that he was no longer in the torture rooms nor the medical wing of wherever it was that he had been held. The coolness of the air and the smells were more natural than the insanely filtered air that he had been breathing for a good long while. While still unsure of what was going on the fact he had been kidnapped, drugged and brought to yet another underground base soured the idea that he might well have been freed. The major plus to this was simply the fact that if the psychotic Admiral and his bully boys were doing more than enough to break him, why would they change tactics so completely considering he was in a better state now than he had been for a long time? Well enough so that it would take them a serious amount of time and effort to begin to break him again. “Where am I?” “You are within our infirmary. Do you remember being rescued from the Fleet HQ?” “Rescued… soldiers and the blonde woman who kept on helping me.” “Indeed, we needed to get you out before you were too far gone,” the man said. “As it was, you had internal injuries several broken bones, blood was leaking into your lungs and clotting across your larynx. With the bruises and cuts that were inflicted as well as whatever else they put you through, just a week more and you would have been very dead.” “Why….” Fitz coughed the man walked across and picked up a water ration on the side of the table, cracking the top he helped the pilot to drink the water. “Thank you.” “You are more than welcome.” “Why did you get me out?” “Not everyone on the colonies is your enemy my son. The fact that you were being punished for the actions of your people instead of simply trying to get information was wrong in the eyes of a great many of us that knew. Once we had a chance we came for you. It was luck that got us as far as we did since the military were determined to get everything they could out of you. We decided that enough was enough.” The man checked the small tube attached to the other’s arm, clear liquids were mixing within the tube as it entered his veins. While unable to read the writing on the side of the boxes Fitz was able to recognise the medical symbol on the side. One not too unlike one seen in hospitals throughout his home world, it was likely something to replace lost fluids and sugars from his system. “You speak English?” “I am quite fluent yes but not perfect, not yet. During the first contact between the Colonies and the Prometheus we were sent a ‘Contact File’ by the people aboard your vessel. I was aboard one of the vessels in the fleet that met with the Prometheus. Once the command staff had realised that you did not speak Colonial standard, the crews were trawled through for those with a gift for languages. I was a simple sergeant back then in charge of a small detachment being readied for a possible incursion aboard you ship had it been a Cylon trap,” the man responded. “Once I was discovered to be a language student as well I was given a copy of the file and began learning more of your language. It allowed me to understand more and more of the records that had been made of the meeting we had. Unfortunately the whole first contact became a problem and I was unable to use the skills that I was developing, however I was used as a translator to write speeches to be used against your people when we invaded your world.” “Didn’t work, did it.” “Two of your pilots survived the battle against our vipers and were brought back to one of our worlds. Three of us that had enough knowledge of the language were used to talk to them. While we didn’t get much out of them two of them allowed me to understand more about your world and its people and by this time the propaganda against your world was already colouring the people against yours.” “What happened to the crews of the fighters?” “They died of their injuries a few days later,” he said darkly. “I see.” Fitz replied. And he did see if his ‘treatment’ was any indication. “Among the information gathered from the Prometheus and the survivors gave us was the fact that your people allowed for any religion to be practiced no matter how odd or archaic it was. To cut a long story short, I realised just how backward and violent we were to your people just because they refused to believe everything we told them and to join the colonies because we said so.” “So you deserted and became a preacher.” “No all at once my friend, but yes that was the bare bones of what has happened in my life over the last few years there is far, far more to it than that but this is not something to talk about here. This greeting isn’t about me. I am here to welcome you Flight Lieutenant Fitzgerald to our home.” “So what do you want?” the younger man replied changing the subject back. “I don’t have anything you can use.” “Want?” The man replied. “We do not want anything. You were held against your will and tortured and once we were informed of this we decided to break you out of your jail. It took several months to get even a single agent remotely close to you. Once we had, we knew we did not have time to waste.” “An agent?” “Yes, we had a medical…healer?” “Doctor, Nurse?” “Yes, a doctor, a healer disguised as a lesser one. Once she had you under watch she was able to tell us everything.” The man smiled. “You might recognise her as the blonde woman who looked after you. You were very lucky Flight Lieutenant Fitzgerald.” “I’ll need to thank her,” Fitz replied. “Now who the hell are you?” “I am sorry. My name is Stuart Gregore formally of the Colonial Marine Corps. Now I am Padre and confessor to my flock, those of us who remain of the Church of the One God.” “One God?” “Yes, we are aware that your world has a number of one god based religions. That which is unlawful on our worlds is practiced freely and easily by the vast majority of your peoples. The belief in one god has been a part of our history reaching back to the first race. Kobol was beset by wars based on our beliefs. Some were between the various clans, some due to differences in the same religions and some between those who followed the Lords and those who followed the one god. That final war ended with the exodus but even then both types of religion continued within the Colonies.” “Sounds familiar.” “We do not wish conflict with our people. We want the freedom to choose how we worship without scorn, without violence and without hatred something that we are unable to do so here.” The Padre smile dropped. “For the last few months a small number of the more religious sects throughout the Colonies have actively hunted the family of the one god that have been identified. Thousands have died on every world. Many more in are hiding or have been incarcerated, labelled as enemies of the state by those same sects. We are unable to get to the others and those here in the caves are all that remain on this world.” “This is the world we attacked right?” “Yes” “So why would you help me? My people apparently caused all kinds of mess here. That psycho Corman told me again and again why he was doing what he did and that I could help them if I told them what I knew about the illness killing his people, damned thing is I have no idea how to stop it.” “We helped because it was the right thing to do. Not everyone is on the side of Corman and Adar and not all of them are our enemies either most just want to live and let live. The invasion failed and that should be that. No one expected that your people would come back and cause such carnage to our people. We have been attacked twice so far and expect more. Fear is a powerful tool and those dedicated to the end of your people are using that to their advantage.” “Ok, so you helped me out of the goodness of your heart. What now?” “Now you stay here with us until you are healthy, then we find a way to get you away from Picon and keep you out of Corman’s hands.” The Padre smiled. “Wait a moment please.” The man disappeared through the curtains leaving the British man behind. Touching the bandages on his chest he struggled to sit upright. He was surprised to find his ID tags had been recovered and placed back around his neck. For him, like many others, the tags were seen as a talisman and they had been snatched from him within minutes of his capture by the Colonials. He guessed that they had used the information on it to keep him alive through his torture. He had all but given up on being pulled out of wherever he had been kept to the point that he was willing to give them whatever they needed that he had. The lies that he had been spilling as they worked him over day in and day out had already pushed him to the brink. Only the few times he had been taken into the medical bay had kept him from breaking completely. The curtains moved again as the young woman and the padre returned with a wheelchair. “If you are up to it, I’d like to show you around.” “Ok.” Moving him to the chair as well as putting the liquid bags onto a special attachment on the wheelchair they moved out of the infirmary and into the outside. Moving past the curtains, Fitz was shown the homestead for the Monotheists, built into a series of caves and secreted building materials the entire place was sealed against the harsh conditions outside. Hundreds of people were scattered, some praying, others repairing clothes and equipment while others were just sitting around talking. “This is the largest number of our kind that exists on this world. There are two other enclaves elsewhere but we keep contact to a minimum in case any one of us is found by the government. Everything we have or need exists down here. Food water and other supplies were secreted down here over the last few years thanks to a few friends in high places. The rest was brought down when we were forced to go underground when the war began, the attacks on this planet just caused us to go deeper but has also allowed us to salvage a lot more than we would have been able to during a dedicated nuclear strike.” “So you need help from us to survive down here?” “Not exactly. We have more than enough supplies to live comfortably down here for over a decade before we are forced to leave the confines of the caves, possibly longer if we are able to salvage more from the surface. We’ll be fine for a good long while God be willing.” “So again what do you need from me?” Fitz asked. “Nothing for the moment as I said but when the Tau’ri and their allies come for Adar and his people we want to be recognised as a legitimate religion in the eyes of your people and ours. If possible we would like to be allowed a place to call our own either here or somewhere outside of the colonies and the chance to live as we wish.” Fitz mentally cringed at the request. It was bad enough at home with the different factions that were fighting against each other. Even those that were basically the same religion with a different name or belief structure. The addition of yet another one and the need to watch them due to their precarious position as Colonial citizens would likely preclude them from being allowed to settle on any world the IOA or anyone else back home settled. It was way above his pay grade to make any promises or even think about what could be done, he was just a flight lieutenant in the Royal Air Force not some minister. “Father, I don’t think there’s anything I can help with right now I’m not someone who will have any say in what happens.” “When they come for you after the war has ended we hope that our efforts will be appreciated by your people. You will be a hero to many from your world as well as others for surviving here and making it out again. I may not have been an officer but I’m well aware of the uses of politics and heroics for people to get their way. Our continued protection and care for you is in no way beholden to your helping us. We simply wish for you to put in a word for us when you return to you people.”
Chapter 17c Ash's Boomstick. CH_17c -.Picon-_ Catacombs&Hydroponics, Cassandra; Luxor; Adama&Tigh, DroneRetrieval, Politics; Pegasus; Cain&Belzen The two of them had continued through the brightly lit caverns moving through the inhabited areas, passing by the massive supply piles deep in the rear and into another cavern. This one however unlike the others was barely inhabited by the Monotheists. Instead what flourished there were plants and animals of all kinds. Animals reminiscent to cows, sheep and other meat-providing species were scattered around being tended to while the larger amounts of plants were being tended to and watered. Other areas in the cavern were blooming with fruit and flowers. “Impressed?” “Hydroponics?” “Yes, most of it was brought down here when we found out about the crusade. One way or another we realised even with the supplies we had we’d need something sustainable to supplement our rations and this seemed like the best idea. We’ve been building this up for a substantial amount of time. From time to time we have fresh milk, meat, vegetables and flowers to help boost our morale. Unfortunately, what we have doesn’t allow for much so we ration it very carefully.” “How bad is it up there Father?” “Very bad, the radiation and dust clouds have destroyed the ecosphere and polluted almost all the water on the planet. The majority of the cities have already started to crumble from the damage the storms are causing to the surface. Only those few places deep underground are still intact,” he said, “mainly military bases and some of the underground transit systems. Those few left on this world are now quarantined from the rest of the Colonies completely. No-one is allowed on or off the world unless they go through military channels and even then most won’t be allowed to leave because of the fears that they are carrying another killer virus.” “The virus wasn’t a killer, I had a mild case of the flu a while ago before the mission. I don’t know how it did what it did.” “Neither do I, but all I know is that it somehow spread throughout the entire colonies killing millions and crippling many others. We have little immunity to it. Its likely most of what Corman told you was the truth. It is far easier to use the truth against someone than a lie.” “Shit.” “Very much so. Come we need to get you back to the medical wing,” The Padre replied. “I’m afraid that you still require a lot more rest and medical assistance before we can risk you leaving the confines of your bed for long periods.” “I’ve been strapped to beds constantly for however long I’ve been on this planet, can I at least sit up for a while?” “I think that can be allowed, at least until you feel tired again. Exhaustion is still a very possible problem for you right now.” The two men left the confines of the hydroponics caverns heading back towards the rest of the people. Several of the older members of the congregation passed them greeting the Padre as they walked by while smiling or nodding to the wheelchair bound pilot. As they headed back through the room Fitz carefully observed the more or less happy and carefree of a vast majority of the people settled throughout the caverns. He now saw more tunnels and caverns as they moved through most of them branching out into larger areas. Others led to into darkened rooms including a chapel with an idol on the top. Fitz concentrated on the layout. If this was a set up then the Colonial were going all out to try and gain his trust, something that could be as dangerous to him as the torture was if he let them know anything they shouldn’t. For now however he would play their games and if they were indeed innocent and simply wishing to help, he could figure out what to do about them later. As they returned to the infirmary, the Flight Lieutenant began to feel the exhaustion pushing against him once again. The short time away from his rest had taken much of the energy he had left. Quietly slipping back into the bed he snuggled down and fell asleep within moments, as the Padre left the room, allowing the pilot to sleep. “How did it go?” asked Cassandra from behind the Padre. “Well I believe he is unsure what to believe and I think he had doubts as to why we are helping him.” “He thinks we are a trap?” “I don’t know but after everything I’m surprised he’s as willing to listen and as mentally capable as he is. Most others would be catatonic after the abuse he has taken.” “We did our best to look after him,” spoke Cassie. “Miriam was willing to face down Corman to protect him. She could have been a serious help to us down here if we had brought her with us.” “We couldn’t risk it, Cassie.” He smiled. “She will understand why we did what we did. She will also be safe you weren’t the only one of us within the confines of the fortress you see. If she needs the help we’ll be there for her, my child.” “Father.” Another voice came from behind; the blonde woman named Sally approached the two of them. “I have news from our brothers at Nova Madigon.” “Excuse me Cassandra, duty calls one again. The one be with you.” “And with you Father.” As the older man and younger woman walked away the genial preacher was replaced by the hardened and much more experienced soldier he had once been. Any news from the Madigon had to be bad. The fact that they had not heard from any of their people in months led him and many of the military personnel within his congregation to wonder just how bad things were becoming and if they were in danger of discovery. “How bad is it?” “Very bad Father,” the woman began. “Three of our local dumps on planet have been destroyed by the attack, however our agents within the Bone yards have found out that at least one of the stockpiles that were awaiting retrieval at the Madigon has been discovered. The investigation has led to the possible discovery of the others in the yards. They have begun wholesale reactivation of anything less than twenty years old.” “Which ship?” “The Warstar, formerly the Hades. More than a third of the equipment that had been stashed away was aboard that ship; Vipers, Raptors, missiles, fuel, gun rounds even a number of more esoteric weaponry that are no longer in use. All were earmarked for the base in the Trojan asteroid belt. The other lots were to be scattered at hidden caches already being built up by our brothers outside the system’s edges.” “What about the other yards?” “Nothing yet, however given the fact that they have discovered our pipeline it’s only a matter of time before the Colonial Navy begin to track down the rest of our stockpiles.” “What we have already isn’t enough. Can your cell keep hold of them outside of the local enforcement?” “Where they have the rest of our equipment stashed, the Intelligence services will never find,” the attractive blonde answered. “I’ll have everything we can get retrieved immediately.” “Ignore the majority of the fighters and raptors if you can. We’ll need the bigger ships and manufacturing capacity for when the time comes.” “As you say, Father.” **** Luxor Command Station Colonial Supply Station One jump from Colonial Border Breaking dock, a single Battlestar slipped from her moorings and into space. Passing by a dozen or more ships completing their repairs, it flashed its lights in farewell to the station and its charges. Several of the warships outside of the main repair yards flashed their own back in acceptance wishing the Battlestar well as it moved to the primary FTL ump point at the far end of the Command base’s scanning capability. The newly refitted ships faded from both visual and DRADIS as its stealth and countermeasure abilities activated. The darkly painted hull seemed to absorb the starlight from around it making it all but impossible to see with the naked eye. The baffles attached to its engines and scanning systems reduced any emissions from within the ship. Finally the running lights and brightly coloured nameplates were covered over completely with retracting armour plates. For all intents and purposes the Battlestar Valkyrie was a black hole in space. “Command Station to Valkyrie.” “Valkyrie Online.” “Permission is given for immediate jump, long range co-ordinates have been uploaded to your system. Jump when ready.” “Understood Command, wish us luck.” Colonel Tigh replied. “Best of luck Valkyrie come home safe we’ll be waiting.” Newly minted Rear Admiral Adama nodded to his exec as he looked over the information he had been given by the admiralty. Once again Corman had buried his head up his arse and decided that we needed a sacrificial lamb in case the mission he had been sent on went to the dogs. The decision to retrieve a number of drones from the area surrounding the Earth’s solar system was foolhardy but the belief that the Tau’ri would not have seen them as well as the intelligence that they would be able to garner from those same probes would be immeasurable. Four of those probes had been in the system when the crusade fleet had been forced back to the command base. It was a miracle that there was only one confirmed destroyed in the massacre that had all but crippled the colonial fleet. The other three were still out there and had long reached the point where their databanks would have been filled. The probes were programmed to make their way out of the planetary system they had been dropped into so it would be a simple jump in and out of the edge of the system to pick them up and get out again. The co-ordinates that they had been sent were based on those of the returning ships that came back from the crusade. Jumping from this one base to the ruins of the others would still allow his ship to make its way to Earth with very few jumps as opposed to the time it took the fleet last time. Within the month central command at Caprica would be sifting through billions of terabytes of data to find a chink in the armour of the Tau’ri and their world. “Set clock for twenty seconds.” “Clock set and running.” “All hands this is CIC, FTL jump in Fifteen seconds,” Tigh spoke through the handset. “Brace for jump.” “This is going to be a long trip,” Adama murmured. “Not that long if the Tau’ri see us coming in,” responded Tigh, “even less so if they are waiting at any of the other jump sites.” “We’ll play that card when we come to it.” “Jump in Three…Two…One…” The voice of Ensign Gaeta could be heard, “Jump.” The Guardian Class Medium Battlestar blinked out from the short range DRADIS, the last of the active supply bases and into deep space. Within moments the next set of co-ordinates were being modified from the series belonging to the last ships to leave now destroyed support station. It would be an hour or more before they were complete and a further three before the ship jumped to the next position. Leaving the CIC to his relief Adama and Tigh began going over the classified information that had been couriered in as Commander’s eyes only from fleet command. Only a very basic plan had been delivered via the first courier beforehand and all they knew was that they were to continue out from the supply station and to the outer limits of ‘surveyed space’ a thinly veiled reference to the main jump point that had been the final jump for the crusade fleet. Against his original orders Adama had returned command of Luxor Base to its original senior officer Commander Diane Anders. She had been reinstated using his new rank to its utmost especially in the view that she knew the stations and its attendant structures far better than he did. Now that she had retaken her position that had been unfairly and borderline illegally from her, Adama had been able to retake his place as a ship’s master and Admiral. The remaining ships of his small rescue and evacuation fleet had been refit and repaired to defend the outpost from any attack. – Or so they hoped. “All three drones will be at the rendezvous co-ordinates before we get there on the other side of their sun on a course close to an exact opposite orbit of their homeworld.” Tigh concluded, “If anything jumping in that side of the system will stop them reading our energy signature not to mention that it’ll take far longer to navigate their way around the gravity well to intercept us.” “We’ll jump outside their sol system then, send out Raptors to grab the drones. I’m not risking the ship for three unmanned drones, intelligence or not.” “I don’t like this Bill. It’s all well and good going after a planet with two hundred other ships at your back but we’re jumping into the lion’s mouth for the second time.” “The Admiralty need their intelligence to find out what went wrong when we attacked Earth. But I agree we’re being sent on a fool’s errand and no matter what happens once we get there, if we’re seen we’re going to be killed.” “Think they want you out the way?” “They’ve vilified everyone else and they needed a hero. Looks like I’ve been chosen for that ‘honour’. If we get back they have their hero, if not then… well by then they’ll have simply been rid of another thorn in their side.” “The Tau’ri will want a lot more of us dead if they realise we’re still spying on them,” Saul countered. “Apparently they’ve decided that since they completely defeated us that first time that they will keep up the pressure. After Picon and now Caprica what’s next?” “I don’t know, Saul. It’s a case of even getting to the drones before they find us.” “Frak that! Even if we get them and get out there’s nothing stopping them from overtaking us and picking us off at our next jump before we can get away,” Tigh groaned. “The damned thing annoys the hell out of me. They’ll have picked up the damn probes long before we ever get there, they’ve had long enough.” Adama already agreed with his XO. The stealth capability of the latest Colonial ships and probes were impressive beyond anything expected when they were designed. Those still sitting in the Earth’s solar system would be all but impossible to pick up even by the most sensitive DRADIS systems in the colonies. If anything could be hidden from the far more miraculous scanners of the Tau’ri it would be those. Fortunately his ship was also equipped with stealth countermeasures, not to mention the compliment of specially modified vipers and raptors also on board. He also knew that the danger of being discovered before they could pick up the drones would be at the forefront of everybody’s minds. The devastation that had been wrought on the colonies was by far worse than anything that had happened in their own attack on Earth by several orders of magnitude. The fact that they had attacked first seemed to be ignored by the public at large back home. Although the majority of the public were outraged at the massacres at Picon and now Caprica as thousands of ships and shuttles had fallen to their deaths once the EMP had hit the planet, many more cared little for what was happening. That left the more fanatical right-winged religious types to push for the war. It seemed that now the fleet had returned and almost nothing except a single barely damaging attack had hit them the majority of the public believed the Tau’ri to be ‘out of sight, out of mind’. A dangerous prospect to be sure. “If we get into their system and out again I want us to use a completely different set of jump sets. If they can see us I don’t want them hunting us down on the way home.” “It’ll take a couple of weeks more to get home that way but Ensign Gaeta can get the computers networked and spitting out new co-ordinates each time.” Tigh replied. “I know how much you hate networks Bill so do I but we’ll need every advantage we can get to get out of this alive. If we don’t connect those computers to any external source we can build up the network and keep I from interfacing with the FTL or the main weapons trunks.” Adama frowned at the words from his Executive Officer. The hatred of networks by the older generation including Cylon war survivors was legendary. He as well as a number of other older Commanders had refused to allow fully integrated networks throughout their ships. Several of the older Columbia Flight I and II, their Class One Pacifica Class successors, the Guardian Light Battlestars and more than a half dozen other heavy capital ships were either non-networked or were capable of breaking their networks with a simple series of controlled explosions throughout the ship. The problem was his best friend and exec was right. The six ships that had faced off their fleet had been able to cripple and then wipe out more than three quarters of everything they had with even more severe losses in the fighter corps. Without a semblance of networks aboard the Valkyrie they would be even worse off than they were considering they would be outnumbered five to one if the Tau’ri had only repaired their ships. Considering they would now be on a war footing it was more likely they would be outnumbered by dozens to one and each ship could in all probability destroy his ship in short order. Without the ability to rapidly compile data as well as lock target on anything that came in close, the Battlestar would be worse than useless, something that he had long since realised when the other ships returned. However given the fact that none of their ships could even scratch the smallest of the Tau’ri fleet, the Prometheus herself the Battlestars and their escorts were helpless in battle unless they went all out which included a ramming attack, something still taught as a last resort to those that went through the war colleges. The loss of a Battlestar or a Destroyer in the case of the Atlantia and Tiller was worth it in the long run, especially with the fact that there were far heavier ships than the Tau’ri could survive if they were to face suicide squadrons. Even so, the Valkyrie would be in dire straits if they were to fight even one of the Tau’ri’s comparatively tiny capital ships. If a Battlestar the size of a Mercury could be taken apart piece by piece by one of the smaller vessels then what chance would a Class Three Light Battlestar have against one of them? Smaller, less powerful, without nuclear armament and currently without a full fighter cover due to his own orders, the Valkyrie was possibly less capable than a heavy cruiser or dedicated gunship. Even an older ship like the old Galactica or the Olympia would have been a better test against the Tau’ri if it came to battle. All he could hope was that their stealth emissions would be more of a defence than pure weapons capability would. “Inform the computer technicians to link together some of the computers but nothing is to be connected to an external system, communications, weapons, helm and life-support are off limits. Link it to DRADIS and the FTL only,” Adama ordered. “Usual explosive decoupling at all times. If we get even a flicker of a virus blow them and jump us out.” “I’ll get Gaeta on it,” Tigh confirmed. “Something else you might need to know. The crew are not overly sure about this mission Bill. The fact you’ve cut the crew by over a third has a lot of people worried about getting out of this alive.” “I’m not sure we will Saul. I removed anyone who wasn’t absolutely necessary to the welfare of this ship and its crew so we didn’t lose any more than we need to. With their technical superiority, our fighters would be useless – so will just about everything else we can throw at them. We are down to half the crew for that reason. If we are captured then few of us will be missed by anyone back home.” “We are risking a lot on this Bill; one light Battlestar to pick up a pair of drones that might not even exist any more,” Tigh mused. “I doubt it’s that much.” Adama removed his glasses. “There no intelligence they can get from us that they don’t already have. The crew has little to no family left at home and this ship is regarded as almost useless to people like Corman. They sent us to retrieve the probes or fail; either way they get what they want in the long run. Good riddance to a problem ship and a problem Commander.” Tigh grinned. “Problem Admiral you mean?” “Admiral my ass.” He snorted, “I’m an Admiral because they needed someone out here with authority and I’m all that’s left. Odds on I’ll lose that rank due to some bullshit reason or another sooner or later.” “Or they’ll throw you to the Galactica to rot.” Tigh raised his glass. “An old man for an old girl.” “If I get transferred to the old girl, it’ll be for something that’ll make a mess of everything else I’ve done out here. Besides considering the state of the fleet right now she’ll be refit and rebuilt instead.” “It’d be easier and cheaper to build a new ship.” “Probably but it’s not as if we have a huge surplus of slips anymore.” “True enough.” Saul looked down at the plans of the table. “We could afford the loss of a ship of any Columbia subtype if we had to Bill. Why not put us on her then send us all?” “Politics old friend, always politics. Adar and Corman have to show they are determined to find a way to take on the Tau’ri. We’re that sign.” Saul merely nodded at that, the politics of the job was always something that went over his head and deliberately at that. He ignored what people in the hierarchy thought of him and his actions. He was happy enough as an exec under an old friend than he would be commanding his own Battlestar. Another problem had been the fact that more than once he had been unable to keep his opinions to himself. His direct reply to one of Corman’s idiotic questions had seen his career dropped back years. The fact that Corman was still recovering from that blow to his ego and authority had made Tigh a very happy man. Being dropped to the bottom of the promotional list as well as being kept from leaving the ship he was serving on simply played into the man’s hands. Being sent to the Tau’ri was a sign to the people that the Colonial fleet wouldn’t allow the attacks on their worlds to go unopposed. While most no longer cared what was going on in the war and believed that they would be left alone if the Colonies left the Earth alone, a large number were afraid of just what was possible and how they could have misunderstood the intelligence they had. A small minority were still pushing for another attack and invasion as the will of the gods. That minority however were quite vocal and still held some sway over the quorum and the military as they had since the Prometheus had been discovered. “Keep us on course for the Tau’ri System Saul. We’ll try a jump and scoop for the probes instead of throwing out stealthstars or raptors.” “You sure?” “If they pick up the stealth ships then they’ll find us anyway.” ***** Battlestar Pegasus Unknown Space The Pegasus appeared with a flash of light, returning to its temporary home in deep space. Testing of the hull and the replacement parts scavenged from the cruisers had held up during smaller and longer range jumps. Since the shakedown had been completed the Battlestar had begun jumps throughout the local star cluster, dozens of stars had been visited with more than one holding a life bearing planet. With the exception of the Cyrannus system itself habitable planets had been few and far between in explored space. With only a few desert or ice worlds among the more uninhabitable planets surrounding their space on almost all sides, the Colonies had been forced to curtail colony exploration for a good while. The fact that so many bounteous worlds existed around the Tau’ri’s home system was an incredible reward for a planet that should be rights be as well off as any single planet within the colonies. “Jump complete Admiral. The Pegasus is fully operational.” “Thank you, Colonel. DRADIS report.” “All clear, Sir.” DRADIS reported, “Planet has no orbital material, no sign of aerial travel. Looks like it’s another empty world.” “Another one?” Belzen said in surprise. “Sixteen habitable worlds in less than a half dozen sectors. That’s more than enough to transplant the entire population of colonies if it ever came to it.” “What’s so special about this section of the galaxy that allowed for so many of these worlds, none of which seems to have been terraformed in any way,” mused Cain. “Ok so we continue on, we need to find something to even out the odds if we have to take on the Tau’ri.” “Helm, plot course to next system,” Belzen ordered. “Set clock for two minutes.” Several minutes later, the highly modified Battlestar flashed into existence in another system, DRADIS scanned throughout the system picking up planets, moons, asteroids… …And a single unclassified return. “Contact, artificial construct detected.” “Location.” “Hundred thousand kilometres port side,” DRADIS replied. “Course shows it’s drifting. No power readings detected.” Belzen hit communications. “Raptor deck launch defence Raptors.” From the forward end of the ship a pair of large doors opened. Because of damage caused in two separate engagements, the Pegasus had gaps in her armoured frame that were hurriedly sealed with pieces from other scrapped ships. During the time in deep space repairing and refitting the Pegasus with parts from the other ships, the Raptor launch facilities from both ships had been cut down and integrated into the damaged flank of the Battlestar. The Battlestar had regained some small ability to launch the small craft, but those few they had managed to transfer aboard were now the only fighter/recon ships available to the Colonial ship. With such immense losses and the forced reconstruction of her warship Cain was unhappy to have a chink in her armour as large as she had, the rest of the ship had been resealed with the hull plates of the other ships and mostly repressurised leaving a scarred and patched hull but a serviceable warship. Four of the Raptors burst from the larger ship straight towards the unknown signal all armed with guns and missiles, two further equipped with teams of marines awaiting the order to take down the other ship if necessary. “Raptor 449 to Pegasus Actual, we have visual on unknown vessel.” “What is it, Lt?” “Some form of small vessel, grey in colour size approximately that of a small marine drop ship. It is ballistic as DRADIS said. It’s tumbling slightly on its course but I believe it to be dead.” “Threat analysis.” “None I can see Sir, no power, no lights and no weapons we can read. It’s cold and dead.” “Take up guard pattern and await further orders.” “Understood, Raptor 449 Out.” It took a few moments for the four scout craft to take positions around the unknown ship. Taking equidistant and overlapping orbits the Raptors were able to lock their weapons without running the risk of hitting the others. Slowly the massive Battlestar lurched forward towards the derelict their own guns turning and locking as they came to bear. Even though it seemed that the Tau’ri had not penetrated this far into the interior of the spiral arm there was nothing to say that they hadn’t seeded traps like this to lure in other Colonial ships to their deaths. As the Pegasus pulled in close the oddly shaped craft simply sat in space uncaring as to the pure consternation that it had caused the crew of the other ship. The Battlestar ceased its forward motion as it came flank to rear awaiting the orders that would allow for the Raptors to tow it into the ad-hoc hanger bay. “Whatever it is, it isn’t ours, Cylon or Tau’ri.” “So what do we do?” “We board her,” Cain said. “Raptor 447 this is Pegasus Actual, begin docking procedures. Check that entire thing for booby traps or any sign it’s from out ‘friends’ from Earth.” “This is Raptor 447. We can’t read a docking port or hatch on the vessel. We may have to breach the hull.” “Do whatever is necessary but I want to know if that thing is safe to bring on board.” The Admiral nodded to herself. “Breach the hull and do a full external and internal check. Once confirmed bring her into the hanger.” “Reading you Actual. We’ll do what we can.” Several hours went by as the external check continued. Other than a number of burns and rents across the hull it was in relatively good condition and intact as they could make it out to be. As confirmation came through, two of the four Raptors pulled out as a third picked up the space suited marines and crewmen. The last of the small Colonial craft continued in until its side hatch came up to the side of the small alien ship. Two blocks of blasting explosive barely scratched the surface of the vessel causing little more than to mostly correct the tilting spin. Another half dozen were used again finally making a crack in the hull. A pair of cutting torches and more explosives finally allowed the marines to make a hole large enough for a single armoured trooper to move through into the internals. Several other managed to make their way through enough to equip a full fire team as they went through the small vessel. “Pegasus Actual, this is Marine Team Alpha. Unknown ship has no life support or gravity online and seems to be deserted. Continuing into the inner hull.” “This is Actual, the second something seems off Major, get your people out of there.” “Understood.” “Sir, you might want to see this.” The Major turned as he signed off on the radio. Two of his marines were standing over a large turret of some kind. Multiple barrels from the weapon had been detached and now lay upon the floor alongside parts and tools; someone had obviously been cannibalising from the weapons. “It’s dead sir, no power but the thing is it has no ammunition feed at all.” “No feed or just nothing attached to it?” “Both Sir. The entire loading system seems to be a solid piece with what might be energy conduits feeing into it from below.” “An energy weapon?” “Very possible Major. I’m not a scientist but if this is a weapon then it’s not like anything we have.” “Continue the search…” “Team Beta to Team Alpha One.” “Speaking of which,” Keenan said, “this is Alpha One, report.” “Sir, you might want to come to the back section. We’ve got something here.” “We’ve got something here as well Corporal. Give me something more.” “Bombs, Sir.” “Say again?” “We have some kind warhead stacks here Sir. Dozens of them, all inert.” “Pull back Beta and rendezvous with alpha in the central section.” “Acknowledged,” Beta replied. The Major looked around the section and with the exception of the turret the entire area was clear of obstructions or supplies of any kind. The rear section doors were wide open as they were when the arrived however the forward section while also completely open was unchecked. It seemed odd that with so much weaponry aboard this vessel that there was no crew to be seen. Moving through the open doors to the forward section his team followed as the other took guard positions towards the hull breach. The forward section was as desolate as the other sections, no equipment or tools scattered around, no sign of the usual accoutrements that a ship’s crew would have aboard. Even the head seemed to be missing the requisites, completely sterile and metallic the only colour differences being some slight gold and bronze colourings on the walls and control surfaces. However they were finally able to find that at least one of the crew had still been aboard when they had been trapped in deep space. A single figure sat in the pilot’s chair as far as they could tell his body long since mummified and bloated by the exposure to a lack of atmosphere aboard. He was dressed in what had once been finery and jewellery that harkened back to the monarchies that had once controlled several of the colonies long before they had allied with the others. Even then, several thousand people throughout those worlds still used the titles that they and their forbearers had been gifted. “Pegasus Actual, we’ve found the pilot. It’s dead, long dead by the looks of it.” “Human?” “Humanoid Sir, two legs, two arms and a head, dressed in some kind of strange clothing and jewellery, little else to indicate what they were. The bodies suffered damage by vacuum and possible decompression. The ship is definitely a combat craft of some kind however its weapons seem to be dead possibly cannibalised, as far as we can tell. Sir, the entire ship is simply a derelict. Once we’ve completed our internal checks we’ll tow her into the hanger bay. In all Admiral, this ship is like nothing we’ve seen before. I can’t tell if it’ll be of any use.” “Acknowledged, Major. Actual out.” Cain turned to her exec. “Jurgan once the ship and Raptors are aboard jump us to the next system and find us somewhere to hunker down. I want to have a closer look at this derelict and would prefer not to be interrupted before we can figure out what it is.” “Understood, Admiral,” Belzen replied. “If this isn’t a Tau’ri trick then it may be something that belongs to one of their enemies. We’ve already been told they’re are far more dangerous than the Earth colony. If they find out we’ve stolen and taken apart one of their ships…” “If it is then they don’t know where it is to retrieve it,” she countered. “But be ready to blow the hanger deck and get rid of it if it becomes necessary. If it means keeping this ship and its crew out of enemy hands, no matter who is on the deck, anyone is expendable, including me.” “I can’t say I agree, Helena.” “You don’t need to agree, just follow orders old friend.” Six hours later the Battlestar Pegasus jumped out of the unknown system and into deep space, its hanger bay holding its retrieved Raptor pack, its marines and a derelict alien craft known by its builders, crews and its enemies as an Al’kesh class bomber.
Ash's Boomstick. CH_18a -.Ragnar1-_ Anchorage; Buildup, Hart&Adm., BSG Rycon; Cols&Cys, 37yrs., Boarders, Cylons&Colonials Chapter 18 Ragnar Anchorage Second Fleet Command Station Colonial Deep Space Ragnar A gas giant at the outer edges of the Colonial system. One deadly to the Cylons. During the latter half of the Cylon War with the Colonial fleet in dire need of a mid range base for their ships, the Colonials began construction of an anchorage high within the upper levels of the Ragnar gas giant. Brand new and state of the art at the time, Ragnar had been developed and built as a fall back for the Colonial fleet if they had been pushed back from the front lines near Cimtar. Once operational, it had been capable of refitting, repairing or resupplying more than forty warships including the entire fleet of Battlestar groups that were holding that section of the line, the sixteen vessels headed by the Columbia and Galactica. After ten years the Anchorage had been shut down with the remnants of the staff simply transferred to newer positions closer to the home worlds leaving Ragnar as a simple supply station with barely enough to equip a single battle group. More than once the station had been raided by arms smugglers, pirates and the occasional Colonial warship in need of a quick supply dump; indeed one such arms dealer had been discovered aboard the station and shot within seconds of discovery. However with the beginning of the war against the Tau’ri and the loss of the Picon Anchorage, the military had decided against building their new construction facilities in orbit of any of the other worlds. In response to the demand to rebuild the damaged forces as well as a new anchorage to hopefully boost the damaged economy of the Colonies, a massive undertaking to rebuild Ragnar began. The two tiered rotating platform was rebuilt and improved to allow for hundreds of warships to be constructed or refurbished. The central spire had been modified to allow for twenty battlestar-sized warships to be constructed, all of which would be consist of the larger Pacifica or Mercury Classes. Around them fifty escort class slips were also being built while a number of already active yards were repairing or rebuilding ships that had been damaged or crippled by the Tau’ri assault on Picon and the remnants of the Crusade fleet. Several more damaged Battlestars sat drifting close by awaiting their own turns within the shipyards. Ships that were beyond saving were being dismantled with their parts already on their way to repairing other vessels. Hundreds of thousands of construction workers, shipwrights, refinery experts and mechanics had been stripped from across the Colonial fleet. The Auxiliaries, most of the Army Construction Battalions, the Naval Construction units, and even huge numbers of cleared civilians that could be spared from the planetary rebuilding across the Colonies were involved with the rebuild. Half a million men and women had been brought covertly through roundabout ways and hidden jump routes to Ragnar Anchorage in order to rebuild it. Several of the remaining parts of the now-destroyed Picon Anchorage that had been outside the explosive yield were attached to the main wheels of the slowly spinning station, Dozens of decommissioned construction slips and the near equivalent of an entire planet’s worth of refineries and extraction plants which had sitting idle had been requisitioned by the military. They were transferred to other parts of the Cyrannus sector. Each was then checked carefully before being transferred to Ragnar. Once complete, the station would boast enough resources to re-equip a force twice the size of the crusade fleet. For the moment however, the majority of the space available was being used by the defence force. Hundreds of Vipers and their attendant Raptors were already on station to defend the base against any on-comers. Hanger bays and launch channels were already in place, spewing out a dozen fighters every hour as patrols came in and out. One of the largest sat close to the command ‘head’ of the station allowing Raptors and shuttles both to land and hard dock or lowered into the pressurised lower decks. One larger cargo and personnel shuttle flew down and into view its IFF system automatically classifying the shuttle as a friendly by the station. No sign of radioactive material or explosive ordnance was evident as they closed. The small craft landed smoothly and quickly as its communications officer sent answer to challenge after challenge before even getting close to the station. A trio of Vipers took position to the rear ready to take the shuttle down if needed. A final series of passwords and orders were exchanged between the shuttle and station before the fighters were ordered away from the incoming craft. Aboard the station however the senior officer aboard the station stood awaiting the newly arrived vessel in a pressurised hanger beneath the armoured decks of the hanger bay. Fidgeting slightly as she fussed with her uniform as she waited for her replacement. It wasn’t everyday that she was removed from active command of such a prestigious posting in favour of a living legend. “Admiral, welcome to Ragnar Anchorage,” she greeted the new commanding officer as he stepped out of the shuttle proper, straightening up he took her proffered hand and walked alongside her as they left the shuttle. “Thank you Admiral. Status please,” the newly promoted commander of the Anchorage said as he walked across the decking towards the closest lift, with the former commander close on his heels. Entering the lift, he pressed the button for the main throughway for the station as his first stop. It would take him a good few minutes to get from here to the midpoint of the expanded station. His trip to the control and command centres would take far longer. “The station is active and approximately sixty seven percent complete with several more of the older dry docks are being refit and brought up to speed. But the chief has assured me that they won’t be capable of building anything larger than a Columbia Flight II unless we expand each of them by at least a half. I have been informed that they are in perfect size and condition to turn them over to mass producing Guardian Class Battlestars as well as using several of them to build the hanger bays for the next generation of Kobol Class Warstars,” Admiral Hart replied. “Both Viper and Raptor Squadrons are partially manned but seriously under strength, capable and cleared pilots are being brought in but very slowly as Intelligence is still checking into the backgrounds of each pilot. It’ll be a few months before we are at full defensive strength but we are already at full strength with Mark Four and Mark Seven fighters.” The Sevens were good, fast fighters outstripping every other fighter the colonies had ever built. They replaced the Mark Fives and Six Bs that made up the vast majority of the fleet’s small craft firepower. While the majority of the fleet were rapidly being outfitted with the fighters, the loss of so many of the largest ships meant that entire squadrons were being outfitted for base defence. That was also where the Fours came into it because unlike their sister class, the Fours were pure ship killing heavy fighters capable in twenty man squadrons of taking down even the biggest Battlestar or in the Cylons case their main base stars. Hundreds of each was supposed to be made available for the defence of Ragnar but for the moment less than a third would be manned at any one time. More could be operated if they took pilots away from their positions within the Raptor squadrons or activated older pilots that hadn’t flown in years. A lot of the stations command staff would qualify, but for the moment he would have to do with what he had. “Defensive systems?” “Dozens of nuke batteries both missile and cannon versions, heavy KEW weapons have been increased and supplemented with lighter faster firing models with another dozen Mjolnir class HKEWs currently being built into the spine of the station. Our AA defences are six times that of the similar sized forts around Caprica and Picon. However, both projectile and missile based, intercept missiles and ECM drones are at about half our usual stocks.” “That little?” “Most of the useful stuff was taken out when Picon Anchorage was destroyed by the Tau’ri. The majority of the missile stocks left available have already been gobbled up by the increased defences around the home planets or have ‘disappeared’ as they got to certain battle groups closest to Caprica and the other inner worlds. Logistics Command has been gracious enough to inform us that we’ll receive the rest of what we need when they are available. Of course their estimates put that at four months or more.” Hart added. “The ‘tunnel’ is currently equipped with six separate mine fields that get progressively nastier as you come though. They’re IFF equipped. The majority are nukes or fusion demolition charges although several are experimental EMP and hyperionic radiation mines with the H-Rs built almost wholly here on the station.” “No mobile assets?” “Only a few ships outside of the Viper and Raptor groups. Twenty post-war short range gunboats and nine heavy cruisers, all modified to be used as missile boats, but unfortunately with the lack of replacement missiles we’ll end up with useless ships very quickly.” “Idiots the lot of them. What about passive systems?” “That we were lucky to get. With the loss of Picon and the entire wing of Spectre Class stealth Battlestars, their passive and active ECM systems were made available to the station. Sixteen Shadow generators and almost a hundred Wraith Class emissions systems. If anything gets through the barriers and into the defence zones they’ll find it all but impossible to lock onto anything/ Hell, I’d give good odds to that much ECM frying their systems.” The lift stopped at the last point on its travel to the central spire of the station. Both officers disembarked into a long corridor branching off into more than a score of different corridors while several lifts were seen moving up and down the spire itself. Despite himself, the Admiral was more than impressed at the work that had been done in only eighteen months. Even with the original station to base it on, the changes were more than remarkable and now he had to take the station off of the hands of the person responsible creating this baby. Continuing through the concourse towards the next lift downwards he contemplated the idea that their massive amounts of ECM might well be all but useless against the Thirteenth Colonies’ ships. They were more than likely hardened against EW warfare, not to mention that they might simply cut through the interference with their advanced DRADIS types and use their own ECM to jam the Colonial communications much as they did at the First Battle of Earth. “With these Tau’ri I doubt it, Admiral. Their own systems on those tiny little frigates of theirs can override the best computer systems we have. They may just use our ECM against us as the Cylons did. But we might as well use them while we can.” “Yes Sir. Actual construction of warships will begin within the month; however we have a number of ships already undergoing refit and repair already. The problem is that the majority of them are much older ships but they were some of the only intact Battlestars that we could get into service quickly enough.” “Classes?” “Columbia and Columbia Two.” “They really are scraping the barrel now.” “The Galactica and Pegasus are both in their final fitting out. Command has ordered total armour coverage for both ships and networking throughout. Commander Nash is seething at the order especially as neither he nor his father have ever allowed for networks on their ship.” Hart smirked. “Once completed each should be the match of a Class Three Battlestar.” “Full armour hmm, about forty years too late for their sister ships. Still not bad for fifty year old relics,” the Admiral mused stepping into another lift. This one however, requested a handprint check and a keycard. He grimaced at the very idea, things were returning to the way there were before the war and not in a good way. “Considering their lack of real fighter use, the Tau’ri aren’t a threat in that theatre quite yet. Have the available dock begin construction on Guardian Class flights Two and Three, ignore the flight ones. But keep one quarter available for Columbia Two construction unless told otherwise. The fleet has enough fighters to take on the Thirteenth Colonies’ fighter forces but we need ships to take their heavier vessels on and the Guardians are the fastest capital ships we’ve got. They are also far more disposable as a whole than Class One or Two Battlestars.” “Disposable?” Hart’s eyes widened. “Sir, no ship is disposable.” “I’m glad you think that way Admiral otherwise I’d have to have you shipped out with the next rubbish tow out of the system.” He straightened slightly. “Two hundred ships were routed from the so-called ‘Crusade’ against the Thirteenth Colony by a handful of ships and less than a Mercury’s load out of fighters. A third of those ships were the biggest and best of the fleet’s major warships. If we are going to be able to rebuild the fleet-and the trust that the people used to have in us-we need to build more of those and we can build them faster than we can build the larger ships. If the people see dozens of new Battlestars flying around they’ll be much more willing to believe that we are going to fight for them.” He sighed before closing his eyes. “The very crux of this however is the fact that a Class Three, like the Guardians are smaller, less resource intensive and less crew intensive than a Pacifica or a Mercury. If we lose one we lose far less than if we lose a larger ship, but if we lose a Class One ship then we’ve lost thousands of men and millions of tons of construction compared to less than a thousand and maybe three hundred thousand tons. Its numbers plain and simple and I have to somehow get a crippled fleet on its feet and expanding without bankrupting the Colonies and its citizens. “I understand,” Hart replied. “Should I contact command regarding your orders, sir?” “They sent me here because they believed I knew what was necessary to take on a force that outguns us by an incredible amount. My orders will show I have the authority to decide on the ships needed for construction. However if you want to check I won’t stop you, after all I’m a newcomer and you’ve been building this place for a year and a half. But once you’re done I want to make you an offer.” “Sorry sir, but I’m taken,” Hart replied smirking. “Very funny, Admiral,” the high ranking man replied before leaning against the wall slightly, he had been on his ‘feet’ figuratively for most of the last thirty hours. Given very little time to get to grips with his new posting he had been forced into, he had read and reread the information packages that the Admiralty had foisted upon him. Fortunately he had always been a fast reader and had made it through the schematics and personnel files in short order. The station was a beast of a design for an old man to run, with over half a million military personnel as well as almost three times that in civilian or reserve personnel. This one station would be one of the biggest and most intensive constructs build in the last few decades. His files had shown the second and third generation refits that the station would go through over the next five years; more shipyards, more fighter bays and more prototypes than you could shake a stick at and all under his charge. It had been a long time since he had had own command and only the losses taken by the fleet had forced the recall of any able-bodied and even several not so able officers back to the fold. He had retired years ago but for the moment his services were required again. He hoped beyond hope that he was worthy of this second chance. ***** June 18th Final year of the Cylon War Thirty Seven Years Ago. The Battlestar Rycon headed into its patrol zone at the head of a far larger fleet than normal. With the Colonials on the defensive for the first time in many years of war the Battlestars were being forced into combat formations larger than the original Battlestar Groups. For the moment the Rycon herself was accompanied by its sister ships Hyperion, Mycenae, Gorgon and Unicorn and they were supported by an impressive number of escort ships which combined out massed the combined weight of the Battlestars. Battlestar group Twenty Nine had been a part of the Colonial fleet from the beginning. Part of the original twelve Battlestars, the Rycon was considered one of the most prestigious ships in the fleet. Built to represent Kronus’ home world of Sagitteron, the majority of the ship’s crew and indeed the Rycon’s own task force came from that world. With the initiation of conflict with the Cylons three of the twelve completed Battlestars were destroyed on the first day as the robotic life forms detonated their fusion drives while they were still in dock, killing the crews and a number of space dock workers putting the finishing touches to the escort ship. Several partly finished Battlestars had been destroyed or in the case of one stolen outright by the Cylons or Cylon sympathisers. The Cylons had managed to steal or confiscate the majority of the other ships built for the Caprican Alliance. Four dozen ships including the orbital battle stations and almost every remaining Raider fighter were stolen from underneath the noses of the people that had funded and designed them. The massive double disks of the battle stations moved away from the planet. Their cannons and missiles blew Vipers and warships alike out of orbit. The Pacifica had been on a goodwill mission to the planet to oversee the launching of her sister ships within the week. A half dozen small nukes put her out of action. She was unable to stop the hijacking of the majority of that world’s defences. As a final insult to those they saw as their jailors, the capital cities of Sagittaron, Leonis and Aquaria were annihilated in a massive nuclear bombardment from the orbiting ships. Unable to rally in time, the defence fleets of the planets in question were forced to watch as the ships destined to defend their worlds jumped into FTL and out of the Cyrannus system leaving only devastation and death behind. Three days later the Colonies went to war. Within six years Colonial Battlestar production had increased five-fold with almost thirty Battlestars in service even after combat losses. In order to turn the tide against the massive fortifications that the Baseships gave the Cylon task forces, the Colonials had been forced to put their precious Capital ships into larger Battle Groups in order to overwhelm the Cylons. More than half of the massive warships were on the front lines in a very few groups, the rest were either defending Colonial space or undergoing refit or shakedown. The five Battlestars had been reinforced with a score of newly built escort ships and a number of older pre-war gunships. The gunships had been the original basis for the Battlestar in the years leading up to the Caprican then Colonial Alliances. Their heavy guns and missile batteries were of immense use to the fighter biased Battlestars. In all sixty ships made up Kronus’ new command. “Ship’s status, Colonel” the Commander ordered. “Ship is fully operational, sir. Vipers are ready for immediate launch, missiles on salvo standby. Main guns are operational and fully loaded.” “Have all ships enter into defensive formation, launch scouts.” “Command to Flight Deck Alpha, launch Scout units immediately.” “This is Rycon to all Battlestars, launch scouts.” From the forward sections of all four ships a dozen scouts launched. Their mission was simple; recon around the ambushed ships to see if there were any survivors. Small and lumbering the Mongoose Class were the premiere scouts available to the Colonial fleet. Several newer more advanced ships were already under distribution to the other units but for the moment these heavily armed shuttles were the best they could hope for. A quick flash and the twelve blocky vessels leapt from their positions throughout the fleet to the location of the Civilian ships. It was silent. The ships weren’t broadcasting anything except their navigational beacons. The running lights and internal lights in the cabins were also on but without any sign of radio signals or anything else. Debris of a few dozen raiders could be seen mixed in between them the Cylon vessels possibly destroyed by the defences of the fleet tenders within the group. “This is Echo Four Nineteen to Echo One One Seven, come in.” “Echo One One Seven online, we’ve got nothing.” “Alright, get back to the Rycon tell them area seems clear but to come in under maximum conditions.” “Got it, back before you know it.” The scout disappeared in a flash of light just before the other eleven scouts of the recon wave were blown out of the sky by unidentified missiles streaming out from underneath the bellies of the civilian ships. Aboard his flagship Battlestar Kronus watched as one of his scouts returned with an all clear signal. All ships were already on maximum alert due to their proximity to Cylon controlled space. An order had his fifteen ship task force jump to the co-ordinates of the other ships. The other forty five ships waited in case they were needed to reinforce Kronus’ small fleet. The flagship Battlestar backed up by fourteen of his finest ships literally ran into a hail or nuclear warheads and cannon fire as they broke from FTL, coming in from the same co-ordinates as the scouts had been. “FRAK! All fighters launch immediately. All ships open fire.” The Battlestar’s impressive arsenal swung into action. The turrets and weapons batteries already unstowed and ready for use spat fire at the oncoming armada of Raiders and larger escort destroyers of the Cylon fleet. Covered by an umbrella of fire, courtesy of the Colonial warships, vipers began to launch from almost every ship in the fleet. Squadrons and flight wings grouped together as they launched into whatever formations they could make it into before the Cylons could get too close. Squadrons flew alongside other fighters they had never flown with before while others fell to the masses of incoming enemy ships. One hundred and eighty fighters against over six hundred were not good odds for the fast and agile vipers, not even against the lumbering Raiders used by the toasters. A good pilot could be counted on to take on five or six of the Cylon fighters before falling. But out of formation and flying with wingmen they didn’t know had a marked effect on the effectiveness. A few lucky shots here and there and the vipers would fall leaving the rest of the fleet to face the Raiders and the capital ships. An exodus of scouts from all the ships began as every FTL capable scout and shuttle tried to get through to the remaining ships in the fleet. Those left behind during the jump, one by one or in groups the small vessels were being leapt upon and torn apart by nukes or railgun fire. Desperate for help three destroyers broke ranks and covered the last remaining scouts allowing three to make the jump back to the rest of the battle group. All three destroyers went up in flames as a massed bombardment from the Cylons' heavy bombers straddled their hulls. All three disappeared under salvos of atomic weapons, the massive detonations bathing them in nuclear fire leaving little debris behind. Their loss was worth it however as almost in unison the remaining ships of the task force jumped in above the battle and behind the warring ships. Vipers and bombers sped out of the other Battlestars’ bays reinforcing the dangerously outnumbered Colonial pilots. Facing the massively reinforced fleet stood a half dozen of the huge dual disk basestars and over twenty of their newly developed hunter killer disks. The latter were designed to face against the heavy gunships of the Colonial fleets one on one. The two fleets were more than evenly matched as the entire battle lines erupted into massed fire. Dozens of nuclear weapons were intercepted or impacted on their targets, heavy cannons, anti fighter guns and fighter missiles were exchanged by the hundred as each side tried to overwhelm the other with heavier and heavier firepower and the fighter legions that spread throughout the battlefield. Two of the closest of the Cylon Basestars exploded in succession as the gunship squadrons of the two Colonial task forces speared them with dozens of heavy cannons shells. The Battlestars in range followed up with pinpoint nuclear strikes to their wounded enemies. As they detonated under the horrendous punishment, their fighters lost cohesion for just a few seconds. For the Colonial forces that was all that was needed. Vipers once under attack turned the tables and blew the disoriented raiders from the sky around them, other fighters cleared the road between the two sets of ships leaving a channel for the two groups to meet up and rebuild their formations. When the formations remerged into a single force the Cylons sprung the trap that they had been holding together for just this moment. The destruction of the two basestars had been a feint to draw the Colonials further into battle. Horrified, the Colonials could only watch as more than sixty hunter killers and other escort vessels jumped into view escorting a monstrous Baseship three times the size of the normal ships they had fought against. The command ship had once stood above Picon fleet headquarters serving as a silent sentinel to defend that planet against any possible incursion by an enemy fleet. Its major weapons and defences had been incomplete at the time of the rebellion the massive vessel had still had its sublight and FTL drives intact and recently tested. The Cylons aboard her had rebelled and murdered the comparatively tiny human command crew and taken the ship for themselves, it had been fortunate that a delay in production had kept the ship from being armed otherwise many more people on Picon would have been killed that day. It had been inevitable that the ship would have been completed considering its size and obvious strategic as well as tactical use. Now leading the Cylon forces it outgunned the entire Battlestar group almost on its own. The new fleet brought the Cylons’ numbers up to par with the Colonials for the first time in this battle. However, the tonnage was already far higher in the Cylons favour. The first three gunships exploded either in nuclear fire or cannon strikes, as they were assaulted en masse by four times their number in hunter killers. For the Colonials the battle was already a foregone conclusion to as more and more of the groups’ escorts came under continuous fire from the smaller Cylons vessels while the larger gunships and Battlestars slugged it out with the Basestars. Fighters on both sides were blown out of space as the smaller escorts both Colonial and Cylon began to die, however with their far superior numbers it was inevitable as more raiders and surviving Cylon escorts closed with the Vipers and their larger brethren all but destroying the Colonial squadrons. The final stroke came as one of the Battlestars finally succumbed. The Mycenae caught alone and forced away from its covering ships exploded as it came under a full scale bombardment from the command Baseship. A saturation nuclear attack had finally broken through her defences annihilating every defensive gun on one side of the ship. Unable to defend herself she was surrounded and smashed as dozens of raiders launched nukes which hammered into her damaged quarter. A final group of the missile impacted along her engine sections breaching the reactors blowing the ship apart. With the loss of a good section of their overlapping firepower, the remaining battlestars and gunships began to take more intensive fire as the Basestars shifted their fire onto new target. The destruction of the Mycenae only moments later came as a shock to the Colonials and Cylons alike. The ship had seemed intact to until the engines exploded. Several of the fuel lines had ruptured when a raider rammed the rear of the ship. Uncontrolled spills had been ignited by the ship’s own fire. Three of the closest frigates went up with her as well as a number of Cylon ships. Vipers and Raiders were engulfed on flames all but vaporised by the incredible detonation of the Battlestar. First five, then ten and finally another twenty of the Colonial fleet’s ships jumped out from the fight, retreating from the battle as the larger gunships and battlestars set up a perimeter, their myriad of guns and missile launchers firing as fast as they could recycle. Every gun, every missile and every nuke left in the fleet’s magazines were sent hurtling into the Cylon forces; anything to keep the toasters away from the escaping ships. Cylon Hunter-Killers found themselves sandwiched between avenues of massed firepower which shattered their armour. Return fire from the Cylon ships blew holes through the Colonial ships their own missiles penetrating through the holes and detonating within the vessels destroying them from the inside out. The last of the Rycon’s escorts exploded off of her bow. The destroyer’s shattered hull showered the already damaged Battlestar with debris. Several fires were now burning across her entire flank as more and more hits slammed into the Rycon. With more than half his crew dead and one of the bays totally inaccessible there was no way of stopping those fires. The second they reached the defence guns’ ammunition bunkers the entire bay would go up possibly even taking the ship with it. The last four remaining ships of the Colonial fleet were pulling away from the battle desperately trying to jump when the last of the gunships was taken down by the Cylons’ command ship. Her back was still aflame from the nukes that had broken her back. Pulling away from the Rycon, the gunship continued firing as she closed with the Cylons. A dozen raiders rammed her surface turning holes into tears where yet more Cylon gunfire breached her innards sending shrapnel into the ship’s inner sections killing dozens of her crew. The heavy gunship continued on through the lines of enemy cruisers and escorts heading for its destination. After less than a minute the gunship’s engines blew out as a nuke shattered the blocks between them. However, by this time it was far too late. Three million tons of solid metal built by human hands rammed that of forty million tons of Baseship, the last of the first group’s Baseships came apart as the human vessel cleaved its way through the lower disk ripping through its structure before jamming inside the ship’s hull. More than a minute passed as the Cylons scrambled to recover from the suicidal charge of the Colonial vessel. This allowed the rest of their forces to hunt the two remaining Battlestars and their lone escort. Raiders took position around the crippled warship while several of the larger Hunter-Killers closed in to assist their damaged sister ship. The entire lower disk of the Cylon ship exploded as the Colonial ship finally detonated from its crippling damage. The explosion sent raging fires and burning plasma throughout the lower sections of the Cylon basestar. The heavy armour and incredible armament of the massive warship went from a boon to a curse as the majority of the explosion was kept inside the main hull. Forced back in on itself, the inferno redoubled before expanding out through the holes already within the armour plating. Plumes of fire escaped through the entry point the Colonial gunship had made on impact. More plumes escaped through missile hatches and fighter bay doors annihilating the weapons and raiders. Fuel and munitions exploded throughout the lower disk increasing the conflagration and blowing more holes in ship’s hull allowing flames to reach out destroying anything within range. Crippled and losing control the base star swung around on its axis and collided with two Hunter-Killers that had pulled in too close. What little remained of the lower part of the ship disintegrated as the other two ships blew apart. The remaining half of the Capital ship literally spun into the side of another capital ship that was pulling in to take the damaged vessel under tow. Unable to escape its fate, the all but destroyed Base star simply fell apart as it hit its intact sister. It virtually exploded around the top shaped vessel cutting into the heavy armour and shattering the upper works of the Cylon ship. With the final collision, the Cylon force fell into stillness as they watched the debris of three ships and dozens of raiders settle in space. No one even took note of the two flashes of light as the last two remaining capable Colonial ships escaped leaving the Rycon to her fate. Already listing from damage to her station keeping thrusters, the Rycon’s crew were unsurprised to hear the impacts of weapons stop. Silence reigned throughout the ship as the entire remaining compliment strained to hear the inevitable sounds they knew were coming. A few minutes later the first sounds came from the upper hull, a dull thud shook through the ship followed by more than a dozen more. Then the shout came from the upper levels. Boarders The Cylons were here. The battle that was to come decimated the crew further as hundreds of Centurions pushed their way through the corridors of the ship. The already depleted crew was driven back from all areas into the very internals of the ship. Improvised barricades were thrown up and tripwire explosives were scattered the corridors and hallways of the once mighty Battlestar as the human crew pulled back. Hundreds of Centurions went down as the larger anti-personnel mines, anti-armour gunfire and collapsing superstructure blew apart the incoming robotic troops. More thuds hit the ship as new boarding pods came in replacing the empty landing craft. More Centurions streamed down the main concourses of the ship clearing blockages where they stood and killing anyone that might still survived. The most horrifying loss was yet to come. The Cylons had forced the majority of the ship’s crew into the viper launch tubes and repair stations on the crippled starboard bay. Unable to take the bay without losing every Centurion that they could bring to bear they did the next best thing. A small group of Centurions walked along the outside of the ship making their way through a decent sized hatch leading into the main repair bays. All nine were lost but they were able to complete their objective. The ship rocked as a small but deadly nuclear weapon was detonated within the internal structure of the starboard flight bay. Those that had made it to the port bay were far luckier as the sealed decks, walkways, and airlocks kept the explosion within the armoured pod. Only the weaker doors leading to the viper bays and those critically damaged sections vented into space. As it was barely six hundred of the five thousand plus crew of the Rycon had made it to the now heavily defended port landing bay. The survivors consisted mainly of the bay’s repair and maintenance crews. Some of the ship’s command crew and a large number of the ship’s marines managed to cover defensive points that had been hastily put together. The last of the massive doors into the central corridor had slammed tight seconds before the bomb had gone off. Commander Kronus and the surviving crew from combat had managed to push past the Cylon fortifications from behind as they wrecked the ship’s secondary environmental systems. “Major Boothroyd, set the charges,” Kronus ordered. His hand clasped his upper arm. At least two large pieces of shrapnel were imbedded in his arm while a bloody burn seeped nastily on his head. His short cut hair was now burnt and blackened around the wound; unsurprisingly to his crew he said nothing about his injuries but continued on. “All hands this is the Commander,” he shouted. “Find a safe position and hang on.” “Charges one through eight set,” The ship’s tactical officer spoke up after a few minutes. “We’re ready.” Kronus leant back and wrapped his hands around two of closest handholds this was going to get bumpy. “Fire.” Large breaching charges had been set into each the crossbeams of the landing bays. While each of the beams were responsible for drawing the bay close to the ship they were accessible from within the bays themselves. With the port landing bay the only intact and still inhabited part of the ship left Kronus, had ordered the destruction of the bay’s supports to keep them away from the crippled Rycon. As all eight charges exploded the massive heavy crossbeams separated from the bay sending it up and away from the damaged ship which now acted as a sorely needed lifeboat for the survivors. The bay’s own secondary power systems kept the rapidly depleting defence weapons powered and firing. Kronus winced as the jolt of the ship slammed him against the stanchion he was laying besides driving several of the pieces of shrapnel in his body further in. One such piece he could actually feel rubbing against the bone in his upper arm as it cut through the muscles and nerves. Biting down on the pain he looked at the rest of his crew. With the fighters, shuttles and scouts already long gone there was little time left as the spinning bay flew through space. The last thing he remembered of that day before collapsing was the sound of something latching onto the remains of his ship and breaking through the viper bays into the spaces beyond. But he would always swear that he had seen the young man that saved him before. ***
Ash's Boomstick. CH_18b -.Ragnar2-_ Anchorage; Kronus; Crucible; Sam&Jay, Felger, Innovations, Rebuilt&Refit, SSDF, POWs “Permission to speak freely, sir.” The Admiral’s attention was brought back to the present by the former Commander. He blinked slightly as he came back to his senses, before smiling rubbing his arm slightly at the phantom pain on the artificial limb. “Of course.” “I was surprised to see your name come up when command of this station was to be turned over to a new Admiral. I expect to see Admiral Cain take over my position. He has far more experience over groups of ships this size as well as the running of a space station. No offence meant.” “None taken.” He smiled. ”When the ball went up over Picon, Garris Cain was the first person that I expected to see turn up on the stage to take over. But under Adair’s orders, he’s been returned to the Admiralty on Caprica to assemble the next group of ships in case of attack by a larger Tau’ri force. Nope, I’m sorry, you’re stuck with me.” “I’m sure I’ll get over the disappointment, sir.” She smiled back at him *Yes, she’ll do.* The doors opened up to the station’s heaving command deck. More than a hundred men and women bustled about across the massive control centre looking as much like a coliseum from the old days as a military hub. Giant screens showed every angle of the shipyards. The screens monitored the construction apace around them while others more were showing the readiness of the defensive stations. Lastly a single massive monitor showed real time information of every fighter, shuttle, warship and transport in the area. Stepping out, he watched his new command in silence, taking in the bustle that outstripped even that of the Defence Command on Sagitteron. It wasn’t long before one of the enlisted personnel headed for the lift his arms full of reports. His eyes widened as he pulled the papers to one side and stood at attention and shouted. His voice rose above the low level chatter of the room cutting through the air and garnering the notice of the rest of the crew. “Ten-hut, Ragnar Anchorage arriving.” The command crew stood to attention and saluted coming to parade stand the old man saluted back. Admiral Philip Kronus was home. ********* 'The Crucible' Homeworld Security Command Centre Nevada “It’ll work.” “It’s crazy.” “Sam, every idea I have is seen as crazy, but most work.” Doctor Jay Felger was just slightly perturbed by the fact that Colonel Carter was dismissing his ideas out of hand without even really thinking it through. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t been through the idea again and again with other members of the SGC. “Can you really do it?” “Well I think so, but it wasn’t just my idea you know.” “Who else?” “Chloe, Coombes and Siler.” “Siler?” “He does a lot of work around here Sam. He probably knows more about how the SGC works than anyone, bar you and maybe Walter.” “You didn’t ask him did you?” “Nah. General Landry kept him too busy. Odd that he had more work for Walter every time that I came near him. Poor guy must be swamped with stuff to do.” “So you think this is possible?” Carter asked, steering the conversation away from that track of thought. “We wanted to use a Warstar to begin with but someone overheard what we were talking about and mentioned that it was best rebuilt into the hull of a smaller ship. So, we chose a mid-sized battlestar instead. If this works then we’ll go with the Warstar. I mean to be honest unless we’re rebuilding the ships with our own equipment, which we won’t be doing because it’ll take way too long, and take far too much in the way of resources, which is why we’re rebuilding these ships to stay in orbit in one way or another, which also means that we’ll be using resources that should be used to build ships for the fleet, which will get me into trouble, which…” “Jay, calm down,” Carter said. “Look, I endorsed the first idea mainly because you came to me the same time others did to build defences using ruined Colonial ships. This idea we might be able to squeeze into the same refit it’ll just take more time.” “But General O’Neill still doesn’t believe I can do this.” “Can you blame him Jay?” “But I got the plasma cannon working and the beaming reloading system and finished the design for the lower section refit of the outpost. That should give me some benefit of the doubt.” “Colonel Carter, Doctor Felger, Colonel Davis is ready to see you.” “Davis, I thought we were seeing General O’Neill?” Jay said wide-eyed. “General O’Neill is unavailable for the moment; this way please.” “Colonel, Doctor, welcome back,” Paul Davis replied. “I’m afraid that the General is currently at the SGC. Several SG teams have come across a ZPM site somewhere across the other side of the galaxy towards the Pegasus Galaxy. It might have one or it might be dead, but every lead is being followed as much as we can. The clean up after the Wraith attack is still ongoing as well, so I don’t have too long.” “We’ll get to the point them, Colonel,” Carter replied. “Jay.” Felger was more confident now he knew he wouldn’t be facing O’Neill again. After a few seconds and clearing his throat he began his explanation. “Well, we have an idea about increasing the construction capability of our forces. About a week ago we were able to begin reconstruction of a smaller Colonial warship to turn it into a planetary defence outpost. We replaced their guns with our own railguns and plasma cannons, and equipping them with shield generators allowed us to put this rebuilt ship directly above the outpost at Antarctica. However something else came to mind when we began the redesign. While we don’t have the fighter or crew capacity or even the ability to really take off and land on most of the leftover Colonial ships with our fighter squadrons we thought that if all that space is going to waste then maybe we should do something about it.” Felger unravelled the papers in his hands. “The entire hanger bay and lower pressurised sections of the Battlestars can be sealed up and modified so that they become one or two massive sections, each section would have inside either one or two construction yards for building Daedalus, or Prometheus class ships. If necessary we could refit one to build 302s en masse. The Colonials have the ability to build their own fighters aboard their ships we might even be able to do the same once we get the materials aboard one of those ships.” “I thought that wasn’t possible.” “Well, the spacing in the bays are full of rubbish. By cutting out the majority of the superstructure and reinforcing the rest we can possibly rebuild the internals with positive gravity sections mixed with non-gravity sections to move parts around as you can see here.” He pointed to the plans, “If we are able to refit entire parts of the Colonial ship we could hold personnel, materials, supplies and any equipment needed to build the 303 and 304 classes.” Felgar’s paperwork was now scattered across the meeting table one full scan of the smaller battlestars had given the scientist a complete technical readout of the Colonial vessel. He had already modified the plans ripping out most of the launch tubes, and repair bays. Even the weapons systems were gone leaving what was basically an armoured cocoon around a massive empty cavern separated every few hundred meters with an armoured bulkhead. Each part of the cavern were long enough to hold a 304 and its repair cradle while allowing equipment and personnel to make their way to any part of the ship. “Using either our own or the Colonial’s gravity technology we can give this construction pod gravity across the entire shell meaning that we won’t be building it from the ground up. We can build all parts of the ship at the same time cutting construction by at least half if not more. Then once completed the bay is depressurised and we can fly her out using a hatch that we cut into the side and seal up using force fields and pressure doors. In total we think that up to six of our 304s can be built within the hollowed out bays of one Colonial warship while the internal spaces of that same battlestar can begin production of fighter parts at the same time. If we have both made at the same time we could get six Daedalus class and their fighter squadrons delivered at the same time!!” “But the Colonial ships aren’t capable of building our own fighters,” Davis pointed out. “Well not yet, but we’re still trying to add Colonial aeronautics to our fighters and if we can do that then we can build at least some of the parts on the Colonial ships and send the rest up by transporter. We think that a lot of the dies that are needed can be machined and sent up to the modified battlestars to allow for far more parts for our 302s to be built there. Then we send up whatever they need to finish the fighters, complete their construction up there and we’ll have entire squadrons of fighters being built in a really short amount of time.” Leaning over the plans, Davis looked over the changes the scientist had made to the internal schematics of the ship; the entire FTL system had been removed as had its own power supply. All of that had been replaced with a number of large naquada generators slated for the next generation of 304s. Living quarters had been modified for long term use by both military and civilian personnel replacing the bunk rooms that currently existed with single or group living accommodation. The shared bathrooms and larger mess halls were to be improved to fit more along the lines of those used by the earth fleet. The weapons, ammunition bunkers, hoists and command stations were gone, as were most of the cargo bays. In their places were the construction facilities from one of the largest battlestars. Electronic shops and injection moulding plants, metal pouring and cutting dies would accompany those that already existed in the depths of the warship. Everything necessary to help build the Earth-based warships or to allow for fighter construction in pre-fabricated parts was there. In all it would increase their ability to build their defences by leaps and bound, more so than the far longer time it would take to build both underground and above on the Earth’s surface. “The smallest of the battlestar types are what have been identified as the Guardian class.” Davis steeped his fingers. “Given the fact that they are basically useless to us, one will be towed into planetary orbit close to the defence station above Antarctica for a complete strip down and refit for your project. Given its size and the fact that we have supplies enough to build new yards now, I am giving you the go ahead immediately. If the project works on this one ship then we’ll look at possibly using one of the others.” Davis raised his hand to cut off the protests that he knew would be coming from the scientist. “I know that you believe that using one of the largest ships would be the best chance for this project and if we knew there would be no problems then I would possibly agree with you. As you are aware, your most recent successes have made you almost indispensible to this organisation but this is the first purely space based refit and construction we’ve completed. The mid-sized battlestars are best suited for conversion into planetary security outposts. The smallest and largest are already being considered for scrap or modification themselves. We’ve already had to turn down one consortium who wanted to rebuild one of the largest battlestars with our own technology.” He shrugged. “I had to talk General O’Neill out of that one.” “The Guardian class has suitable facilities for the rebuild that you are requesting. Granted the sizes of the pods are not the same but you should be able to build the majority of the parts needed for 303 constructions. If this works then it’ll be handed over to logistics command for total conversion of a larger ship.” “Thank you, sir,” Carter said for a speechless Felger. “How long will a single refit take?” “Umm.” Jay blinked owlishly before clearing his throat. “Well, with a full detachment of engineers and a few hundred specialists, plus the use of a beaming system and perhaps someone to help with the accommodation sections, plus people to decontaminate the engines, then there’s…” “Doctor….” Davis interrupted. “Three months, maybe,” Felger squeaked. “The Asgard beaming tech on board any of the Daedalus class can allow us to clear out the debris that’s bunging up the ship and the majority of rubbish we still need to dump. The rest is just cutting out a load of the inner hull and replacing the external sections with armour plating.” “Alright, we have a few construction battalions the IOA aren’t using at the moment, but only one is trained in space going construction.” “That shouldn’t actually be a problem. The size and bulk of the battlestars means that any construction battalion should be able to help with the internal reconstruction. It should be a lot like rebuilding a firebase inside a cave or the construction of something like the Crucible. Only a few will be needed to rebuild the external shell to prevent any kind of accidental decompression,” Sam spoke up. “Specialists will need to be brought in from any of the nuclear powered ships that are currently in use, possibly others from waste treatment facilities as well. Dr Felger was right about that.” Davis nodded his head as she spoke. Carter and Felger were known to be among the best that the IOA had available. With so many scientists being pulled away for other duties on off-world bases or new construction efforts, it had been a coup when the SGC had been able to keep the majority of their people. He studied the plans again his mind turning at the possibilities that the refit to the Colonial ships would mean to the fleet at large. With another few dozen slips available to them the numbers would skyrocket. “I’ll have operations and personnel commands begin combing allied corporations for the necessary people. Unfortunately, I’m not sure how many naval personnel will be available for this especially considering the number already being tapped for other reasons. We’re already drained the manpower of most of the nuclear capable ships in the world.” “No offence to the Navy, sir but the carrier fleet is basically useless now that disclosure has happened. What about the dozens of ships of the fleet?” Carter asked. “Half of the carriers are already in port being decommissioned. Same with the majority of their escorts. The Russians and British are already diverting all but a few of their ships back into port for the same reasons. None of us are completely stripping our fleets but within the next few years much of the world’s wet navies will be all but gone.” Davis sighed. “Most of their personnel are being seconded to Homeworld Security and the space going defences. The next group of Daedalus class ships will be crewed almost completely by United States and Royal Naval personnel.” “Isn’t that a good thing?” Felger asked. “Not for the General it’s not.” Carter replied. “Ok…” Felger felt out of his depth with that. “So when can we start?” Davis frowned slightly as he tapped in what was needed into the massive database that ran the Crucible, and by and large the entirety of the planet’s defences. Every squadron, ship, ground soldier, sailor and pilot were logged and cleared through this system. The powerful Asgard/ Goa’uld-inspired mainframe now contained the most complete records of the Earth’s military capabilities. The upshot of this had been the superior co-ordination of their resources that they had lacked for a long time. The down side however had been the discovery of more than a few people that were involved in black market work, war profiteering and treason against not only their own countries but that of the world at large. O’Neill’s suggestion of throwing them in the Colonial POWs on Hanka had been shot down by the IOA committee although not by much. Ten thousand plus badly needed soldiers and military specialists were now being held in the former POW camp on Cuba along with the majority of the Cylon human-types. “Once we can tow the Battlestar Cerberus into orbit we can begin with the stripping out of the main hull using one or two of the 303s in orbit. The Relentless and the Eagle are both undergoing final shakedown before being attached to the planetary defence fleet. Both will be seconded to Colonel Carter’s command for the time needed. Get the stripping done quickly, Doctor. Both of those ships will be needed soon. I can give you six hundred engineers and construction experts from the French and German armies to help you out within the next three weeks. Can you be ready then?” “Hell, yes!” Felger shouted before quieting down. “I mean yes sir, I can. The smaller ship means we’ll only be able to build sections of the ships inside. The bays, parts of the main structure as well but they’ll have to be completed on the surface which means towing or beaming down by one of the Daedalus class ships…” “Very well, Doctor Felger. I’d like you to return to the SGC and finish the plans for the reconstruction of the Cerberus. Once you and your companions have completed this, let me or one of my staff know and we’ll start as soon as the ships are in position. Thank you both.” He dismissed them. As the two scientists turned to leave Carter was interrupted by her direct superior asking her to stay behind. Nodding, she said goodbye to Felger and turned back to the desk. Davis was brining up another set of plans on his desktop. The doors closed behind her sealing shut with a hiss, a vacuum seal around the entire circumference of the room locking them in and rendering the office secure. “Sorry to keep you Sam, but I need your advice.” Davis said informally. “The Eagle and Relentless will both be operational within the next three week. Four other 303 from as many countries will launch theirs about the same time. General O’Neill has ordered that they be turned over to a new operations section that is being established at the lunar outpost as soon as possible. I need to find a commanding officer that can control six cruisers and a possible group of escorts with them.” “What kind of command?” “Special Services.” He slid a folder across the slick table top to her. “Sixteen ships will be detached from the Sol System Defence Fleet (SSDF) and sent to the Cyrannus system in order to drop several more stealth probes into their orbital paths for intelligence gathering.” “But that’s not all is it, not with that many ships,” Carter replied looking into the folder. “The IOA want us to show that we are doing something other than simply reacting to whatever is coming at us. With that in mind the entire group will be sent under the command of whomever we choose into the Cyrannus system as a Wolf Pack. Their basic mission will be to intercept and destroy convoys, single warships and if possible, intercept any information that will lead us to another victory against the Colonial regime. Given their short ranges however, we’ll have to rotate out the smaller Apollo class ships more often than the Prometheus class ships.” Sam flicked through the folder as he spoke. The papers included the ships needed as well as the time on station for each of the task force’s sections. The fleet would be headed by one of the newest British ships as she had guessed from the ships’ name alongside at least one ship from each of the other members of the IOA. The Crucible was still to be advised as to the name of the sixth ship, but indications was that one ship funded by Germany would come under the flag of the Task Force’s commander. Task Force 121 Unit Commodore: Unknown Unit 1.0: Flagship: HMS Relentless FGS 303 Class Unit 1.1: USAF Eagle RSS Potemkin Unit 1.2: ROCS Ting Yuen MN Dubois Unit 1.3.1: Apollo Class Ships Unit 1.3.2: Apollo Class Ships Unit 1.3.3: Apollo Class Ships Six Prometheus class and between eight to ten Apollos were no small numbers to the planetary defence fleet. With almost half of its units being pulled for this mission, the plan was a good one, if they had had the ships in numbers that they needed to both defend the Solar system as well as attack the enemy within their own space. The risks were plentiful and possibly even outweighed the rewards as much as every attempt at choking off supply lines via the oceans had been. One loss or capture of a Prometheus class and the Colonials would have access to more than three quarters of the technology that the Earth forces have within their ships. The plan had the smell of the IOA council all over it, a badly thought out plan using too many resources that could not be spared at this point. The fact that they were sending too many smaller and less capable ships to hit the Colonials as opposed to a full combat group was amateurish. A full combat group could not only destroy entire flotillas of enemy transports but could defend themselves against the Colonial escorts that will inevitably be sent to defend convoys. As impressive as the Apollo could be they would be all but useless against the larger Colonial warships that would be easily available within the inner and outer systems of the Cyrannus star group. Their shielding and weaponry would be an asset against smaller destroyer scale escorts or even a light cruiser, but a battlestar even the smaller class ones would mission kill an Apollo in short order. “Cruisers and gunboats against the possibility of entire Colonial Battle Groups? What about the 304s? Why aren’t they involved in this?” “The IOA in their infinite wisdom have decided that the Daedalus and her sisters have been taken away from the defence of the Earth too many times. The entire class has been designated as the Earth Defence Force and will be left in orbit at all times unless permission is given by the IOA assembly to dispatch it elsewhere.” “That’s insane. The 304s are the best ships we’ve got leaving them here is tantamount to surrendering the initiative back to the Colonies.” “Exactly,” he agreed. “The problem is that the politicians have more and more public support in keeping those ships in orbit at all times especially after the scare of the Wraith attack a week ago. As much as we want to use those ships, until we can build enough of them to face any incoming attack or we have something bigger and better in the works they will be staying in the Sol System with one exception.” “That is?” “The Daedalus is being dispatched with a massive resupply operation to Atlantis. They’ll be towing a rebuilt Colonial destroyer filled with supplies and personnel to reinforce the city until we can reliably create a supply route without risking any of our few 304s.” “You mean the gate bridge.” “Yes.” Davis agreed. “The Odyssey will make it back within the day but on its last legs. The Daedalus and Ajax will be dispatched to pick her up if needs be. Apparently Doctor McKay managed to rebuild their hyperspace engines and life support with the few spares the Odyssey had recovered from the Daedalus and a little work from the wreckage of one of the battlestars. According to Emerson McKay didn’t complain about the work he had to do, nor did he whine and moan as usual. The Colonel is putting him up for a commendation as well for saving his ship and crew.” “We are talking about Rodney McKay, right?” “The same.” “Maybe being on Atlantis changed him; that or it’s a momentary aberration and he’ll be an insufferable pain when he gets back.” “Possibly.” “Even so, once the Odyssey finally gets back, with the exception of one large scale resupply mission the entire class will be kept in the Sol system at all times. However, both the British and the Russians have said flat out that if they believe that it’s a necessity to use one of theirs for any reason, then they will defy the IOA edit and deploy their ships whether they like it or not. I believe that General O’Neill sent both commanders a bottle of Scotch afterwards.” Carter shook her head in disgust. Politics and the Military. Two things you need and two things sometimes you wish could do without. If she hadn’t have known better she would have bet her life savings and the rest of the career that Kinsey or the NID had put a plan this stupid in the works. But even so, orders were orders including those from people in the governments who have little to no idea of what they are asking. Finishing with the folder she laid it back down on the desk between Davis and herself. “And the General agreed to this?” Sam asked. “When four out of the five members of the Security Council agree with each other it’s not something you can ignore, although the General did mention that he needed to try and placate some of them after the rant he gave to the chairman.” “He said that?” “He said, ‘Great! Another person sticking it to the man. I thought I was THE MAN.’ Then he mentioned something about blue jello and left.” “So we need to find someone to take command?” “That’s about it, we’ve been handed a few names but most are either too necessary in their current positions or don’t have time in rank or task force experience, and those that do haven’t completed training for space based warfare.” Davis continued, “I may have to pull the Ajax’s captain out of the line and send him in as Fleet Commodore for the foreseeable future.” “Can we risk that, Paul? The Daedalus captains are the only people we have at the moment capable of commanding their ships and have the experience that the rest of the fleet currently lack.” “I’m more than aware of that, Sam, but we need to send someone out with the fleet to give them the best chance we can of bringing most if not all of them back alive. If I have to use one of the few commanders that we have left, then I’m going to use them.” Davis leant back and rubbed his eyes. “Shit... I wish I’d taken up Ronson’s offer instead, less of this crap from the politicians.” He sighed. “Sorry Sam, I shouldn’t have taken that out on you. This entire plan is a clusterfuck from one moment to another. We can’t even risk reinforcing them or resupplying them unless the task force comes back here.” “You told them that?” “We tried but most of them don’t seem to understand the logistics of this war nor the fact that we are in the unenviable position of having to repair all but one of our Daedalus class ships AGAIN. Both the Prometheus and the Daedalus are close to being a complete structural loss with the damage they’ve taken. If we’re lucky we’ll be able to strip one of them to repair the other and use the rest to accelerate construction on other ships. Ronson’s chewing bricks over the resource depletion we’re getting as well as the fact he’s probably about to lose another ship.” Paul closed his eyes. “Then we have the new problem of returning the POWs that helped with the Wraith back to their people. There are less than a thousand survivors of the battle that we know of and we don’t have the ships to take them, not with the Ajax and two more of the 303s dispatched to retrieve the Odyssey.” “One of their own ships could be refit for the trip back to the Colonies. We know where they are and could possibly calculate a few jumps for their FTL drives to use. Our computers are far better than theirs not to mention we’re testing their drives ourselves. Send them with enough fuel for the one way trip and a self erase program for the navigational data. We’ve enough people to get one of their cruisers running,” supposed Carter. “And get lynched by the IOA for giving the Colonials one of their warships back?” “That’s the downside, Paul. Even if we stripped out the weapons and defences of whatever ship we send, they can refit and repair them anyway. We can’t risk putting a self-destruct on board because we might just kill the people we promised to let go. Imagine that piece of propaganda in the hands of the Colonials.” “Maybe not… how easy would I be to put a receiver into their systems without them knowing and attacking it to a naquada explosive?” “Pretty easy. Why?” “Because we can send the cruiser back to the area closest to the last of our probes in the Colonial system. Once there, we trigger an alert telling them to evacuate the ship before we blow it to pieces. Once they are clear the explosive is triggered and the cruiser vaporised, ship is destroyed and the crew is safe.” “It’s a hell of a risk, Paul.” “Yeah I know.” He sighed, “General O’Neill’s orders were clear on this though. The Colonials need to be returned to their people with the knowledge and the experience of what we are capable of to both our enemies and out allies. The survivors of the battle group that hit the Wraith are going home after they volunteered to crew ships they knew might not make it home. The problem obviously being those that want to keep them here as POWs for the foreseeable future are in virtually every government in the IOA.” “They could override the General’s order and nullify the agreement between Homeworld Command and the Colonial prisoner’s council. There is nothing stopping them doing so and most people will agree with their actions if they do so.” “I agree, but our orders haven’t yet been countermanded so we need to find a way to get them out Using one of their own ships is the best way right now. Maybe we can find a way to get the Colonials to come get their own people.” “It’s possible but will the Colonials accept the fact we’re going to allow some of their people to leave without harm and without being brainwashed or something? Their propaganda makes us look like monsters that will do anything to block their belief structure or to overthrow their rightful government to install our own. The Colonial people will see this crew as pariahs at best and traitors or sympathisers at worst, especially if it gets out that they assisted their enemies in destroying an enemy that could have destroyed us.” “That’s why we’ll give them the chance to stay here within the Earth POW camps instead or going to Hanka with the rest. People here might not like the fact but it’s more than likely most of the survivors of the Colonial ships will meet with accidents of one type or another if we send them back.” “It’s your call, Colonel.” “I know. Thank you, Colonel Carter.” Davis nodded. “Dismissed.” ***********
Ash's Boomstick. CH_18c -.SolSys-_ BSG Valkyrie; Gaeta&Tigh, Adama&Bulldog; NORAD; Walter&Katya, Jack&Bill, BeamOut, BotanyBayPOWs Battlestar Valkyrie Guardian Class Battlestar One jump from Earth “Status.” “Ship is under total ENCOM. Four Stealthstars are ready for launch as soon as we jump into the system. If there are any active probes left, we’ll get them.” “I want us to jump behind their fourth planet away from their DRADIS scans and then head in under sublight power. Mr Gaeta, once we arrive I want an immediate return course plotted as far back towards the Colonies as you can calculate. There’s no way that I’m allowing this ship to be taken.” “Yes, sir.” Gaeta replied. “The FTL drives are spooled up and we’re about as ready to go as we’re going to be.” “Set clock for twenty seconds.” “Clock set and running.” “All hands this is CIC, FTL jump in fifteen seconds.” Tigh’s voice echoed through the ship’s speakers. “Brace for jump.” “May the Gods watch over us,” someone murmured from behind them. “So say we all,” Adama replied. The voice of Ensign Gaeta could be heard counting down. “Jump in three…two…one…jump.” A split second later the DRADIS reset itself as it began a close range scan of the area around the battlestar. Directly in front of them almost one hundred million kilometres away was the mid-sized yellow star that the Tau’ri called their own. Close by, several errant asteroids and meteors were floating slowly heading towards the star at the center of this solar system. The comparatively tiny Colonial warship had jumped in close enough, that the radiation of the sun would theoretically have covered the energy spike of an incoming FTL drive. A small smattering of decades old probes were in orbit of the star some still transmitting while others were dead in space None would have been able to see the ship make its arrival. The Valkyrie settled into a fixed position and powered down in their own version of the old style ‘silent running’ to prevent even an accidental discovery by the Tau’ri. Only minutes later, four small fighter scale craft erupted from the flight pods to either side of the warship. Black as night and as small as the more common Vipers, these ships were the foremost in stealth technology that the Colonials were able to build. Streaming away from the ship in pairs, the Stealthstars headed for the locations of the four probes that had been left behind by the ‘Crusade Fleet’ all those months ago. With luck, the information that had been gathered by the stealth probes would be of use to the intelligence division back home. If they had been destroyed then the battlestar would head directly home using as few jumps as they could. “Bulldog to Valkyrie,” One pilot transmitted. His tight beam channel to the command ship would preclude his discovery from his radio transmissions and the same would go for transmissions between the other pilots as well as their own communications with the battlestar. “This is Actual.” “We’ve got definite signals from three of the four remaining probes. Two are close by but a third is drifting away from the rendezvous. The fourth didn’t seem to have made it back here. Stealth Three will be heading for the errant probe. We will head for the two remaining probes and return with the packages.” “We read you Bulldog. Let us know if you need anything heavier to bring them back.” “We should be good actual. Bulldog out.” One Viper streaked off away from the others chasing down the small but desperately needed probe while his squadron mates headed for the other two. All the while a fourth very different probe was watching every move that the Colonials made. ******* Stargate Command Cheyenne Mountain NORAD The alarms had sounded across the entirety of the Homeworld Security annexes, bases and stations across the planet the moment that an energy spike identical to that of the Colonial forces had been picked up by one of the short range warning satellites the SGC had placed throughout the Solar System. One of those self same probes had picked up an intruder within Earth space on a course that put them one hundred and eighty degrees away from the Earth itself and well away from any chance of damaging any one of the rapidly growing defence facilities. Generals Landry and Hammond dropped what they had been doing and headed for the Gate room. Several of the personnel stationed there were already in contact with the other major command positions at the Crucible and at the British Space Headquarters under Salisbury Plains, Russia, France and China were coming online as they arrived all requesting information about the incoming threat. “Guys… GUYS….” Walter looked at the four small monitors as he keyed in the override to the comms system. “We have one light Colonial capital ship exiting FTL travel at approximately one hundred million kilometres from the sun. Several fighter scale craft have since left the command ship to intercept the probes that we allowed to find their way to the other side of the Sun. They should be able to pick up said probes and leave the system within the next few hours.” “We are still unsure as to this turn of events,” said his Russian counterpart, a slight female Non-Com with the equivalent rank as himself. The old Stargate facility in Russia had been refitted into the Russian Space Defence Command Station shortly after first contact with the Colonials. The famed Russian paranoia had stood them in good stead, allowing the IOA a secondary fallback in case the fleet had fallen and the Crucible cut off. “The last time that one of the Colonial vessels made it back into our space they managed to drop a nuclear weapon into the continental United States. Even with the plans developed by your own psychological warfare personnel this is a serious risk to the security of this world.” “Well above my Pay Grade,” Walter replied. “Guys, can you put us through to your Commanders? The General will want to talk to them.” “Da,” The Russian Non-Com replied. “Talk to you later, Radar.” “My name’s not Radar, Katya,” Walter blushed slightly at her tone. “I know.” She smiled cheekily before shifting the transmission. “How you managed that my friend, I’ll never understand,” his French counterpart replied. “Some odd charm there old man,” added the British NCO. “See you guys at Sydney next week.” “I’ll be there,” Walter confirmed. Hammond and Landry strode into the gate control room as Walter switched across from the comms line to a secure multiple encrypted channels to the other control rooms. High ranking officers swam into view as the high advanced satellite transmission stabilised. The Master Sergeant looked up at the arriving officers and gestured to the monitors showing the arrival of the Colonial vessel. “How big is it?” “It’s a light capital, sir. One of the smaller Colonial battlestar,” answered Walter. “Gentlemen,” Landry began, “a Colonial ship has entered our airspace on the other side of the sun. It’s probable that they are here to retrieve the probes that were left behind when they retreated from the last battle. General O’Neill’s orders are to allow the pick up before any of our ships are sent in to bring them back here. The Ajax and Daedalus will be heading out as soon as they have the last of the probes on board.” “This is a risk that we are unhappy with General Landry.” General Chekov spoke up. His new position as the head of the Russian Stellar Defence Command had forced him out of command of his own ship. He was unhappy about being kicked upstairs to become a paper pusher. “Russia was hurt badly by the attack from the Colonial ships. Allowing one this close is inviting an attack.” “I trust General O’Neill on this one, General. O, one ship won’t be able to get through our defences let alone attack the surface and even if they try then we will allow a proportional response from our own forces,” Hammond replied. “Once we allow them to leave, hopefully we’ll see a change in the Colonial viewpoint of this world.” “I hope you are right General Hammond for your sakes as well as ours,” French Marshal De Gambron said. “How long before we move in?” “Walter?” “They should have the last of the probes aboard within the next fifteen minutes. The Daedalus and Ajax will jump in as they take the last one.” “Fifteen minutes and then we’ll see Gentlemen. Then, we’ll see.” ***** The first inkling of problems for the Valkyrie came as the last of the probes were pulled into the ship via a pair of stealth Raptors. The capital ship’s DRADIS system picked up two newly arrived ships to either side of their ship. The alert for battle came on its heels within seconds. Given their position within the Tau’ri’s system, the ship was already by far ready for conflict if they had been discovered by the Thirteenth Colony. Unfortunately for the Colonial vessel, both ships were already sending out a mass of EM radiation, scrambling the weapons locks of the majority of the battlestar’s weapons. On the bridge, Adama looked at the DRADIS above him. Two of the larger Tau’ri ships were bracketing his vessel at very close range, close enough that the weapons of both ships couldn’t miss from a purely visual gunsight. However, he was more than aware that his ship’s best weapons and most powerful warheads wouldn’t even scratch the other ships even at point blank range. The Guardian class carried a handful of anti-ship nukes, but apparently just one of these ships count shrug off dozens on the Colonial largest yields possible with no effect. “The ship to the port side is hailing us, sir.” Gaeta informed the captain. “He’s asking for Commander William Adama – by name.” “That’s odd.” “They have more than a few of our people down there Saul,” Adama said. “Most of the captains of the battlestars knew I was commanding the defence fleet. Put him on, Mr Gaeta.” “I repeat this is Commodore Harrison of Her Majesties’ starship Ajax to battlestar Valkyrie. You are within restricted space during a time of war between the Twelve Colonies and the planet Earth. We are aware you are captained by Commander William Adama. Communications are demanded immediately.” “Demanded?” Tigh said amusedly. “We’re in their space and we’re an armed warship, we’d do the same,” Adama countered. “Mr Gaeta, give me a channel.” He waited for the nod from his ops officer. “This is Commander William Adama of the Colonial Navy Battlestar Valkyrie go ahead.” “Good Afternoon, Commander.” The voice sounded very much reminding several of the Colonials of the northern hemispheric accents of Caprica and Aerilon. “Would you mind explaining why you and your ship are here in the middle of our space and why we shouldn’t simply put very large holes throughout your command?” “Well, I’d prefer it if you didn’t blow holes in my ship Commodore. Much as I think many of your people may believe that we deserve it, my ship was not part of the Crusade fleet that was sent against you.” “To be honest Commander, we’re well aware of the fact thanks to a few of your former comrades, however that does not preclude the fact that we would have every reason to destroy you and sleep well tonight without a second thought. You are very fortunate we have been requested to escort you to lunar orbit with immediate haste. You will make a microjump to the following co-ordinates calculated for your jump drives specifically. Any other attempt including that of running from us will count as a threatening posture and you will be destroyed. Do you understand these instructions?” Adama looked to Tigh, who barely shrugged his shoulders. The Tau’ri ships could run them down in FTL much faster than they could escape and wipe out the ship and its crew. The fact that the two warships hadn’t blasted them to atoms in short order meant that they wanted them for something. Deciding to roll the hard six he agreed with the orders given by the Ajax’s Commander and instructed his ship’s crew to perform the microjump. The arrival of his ship was already expected as the cluster of warships and smaller escort ships that ringed their emergence point. The Ajax and her sister flashed into view almost on top of the group as they slowed to a stop. Six ships like the now legendary and reviled Prometheus sat to either side of the battlestar their guns armed and loaded for bear. Other, smaller vessels could be seen darting around the old battle zone towing pieces of debris from one place to another while some returned to the largest of the Tau’ri ships, obviously using them as tenders and command ships. One year was all it had taken for the Tau’ri to have gone from five crippled vessels to dozens of armed, operational and very dangerous warships. Just one of their heaviest vessels could take on several battlestars and come out the victor. Ships like the Prometheus could do even worse as a standoff artillery battery simply sitting in space as they blew holes through the most powerful of Colonial vessels with impunity. Now he could see at least a full dozen warships with which the Tau’ri could blast through any known force that the Colonies could gather. Combined with the heavy nuclear missiles that could shatter battlestar squadrons, they would be a threat unlike anything that the people of his worlds could conceive. Hovering close to the other Earth ships sat a smaller Colonial vessel, one that Adama recognised as a new and very advanced Heavy Cruiser design that would have been ordered to join the Crusade fleet. What was more, it looked active and ready for flight, something that seemed out of place with the Tau’ri fleet. “We’re being hailed again, sir.” “The Ajax?” “No, sir. It’s one of those Prometheus type ships calling itself the Halsey.” Gaeta stopped a second before clearing his throat. “S..sir, General O’Neill is requesting your presence on his ship.” The crew almost to a person stared at the Commander as he allowed the request to sink into his head. O’Neill had led the defence of this planet against the Colonial fleet and had been said to be responsible for the attack on the Space Station Euripides that had started the official state of war between the two powers. Now he had made the simple request to come face to face with an opposing senior officer, one who had forced his way into enemy territory on a mission that should have got him killed (if several of the top brass had anything to do with it). Adama wasn’t an idiot. He was more than aware that O’Neill would know who he was and what he looked like, meaning that any plan to replace him with someone else to meet with the Tau’ri’s military commander would likely mean the death of the person sent and the destruction of his ship. That is, if the rumours about O’Neill were true. Like many of his type, Bill trusted the propaganda machine about as much as he trusted any machine he didn’t have hands on experience with. If (and very much an IF) O’Neill was a ruthless and evil man as he had been painted then why wasn’t his ship dead and his crew being tortured to death? He was willing to bet his life on his gut instinct about the situation but was unwilling to bet his ship and its crew for the same reasons. The situation he was in already precluded the escape of the battlestar in the case of his capture. He had to give the orders to escape if they had the chance at all. He just hoped that they would never have to be used. “Saul, begin jump calculations to jump this ship as far back towards the colonies as you can in a single jump. The computers have every set of co-ordinates we used on the way here so splice them together to make the jump as long and as straight as you can, the second you get there jump at any angle you can away from the original course and go silent. If I’m taken prisoner or this ship seems to be under real threat then jump without me and get those probes back home. Until you hear from me stay on condition one.” “You sure about this Bill? These are the people who killed a hell of a lot of the fleet.” “We hit them first Saul. For all we know they’ll not give two fraks about this ship or us, but I’m not risking my crew on a maybe.” “Alright, you realise we’ll have to use a limited network to run this course program.” “Yes I do, just be careful alright.” “You’re the Commander,” Tigh agreed. “Mr Gaeta, open a channel to O’Neill.” “Channel open, sir.” “General O’Neill…” Adama started. “Commander Adama,” Jack interrupted. “I’m going to get straight to the point. I want you over here to talk about your ship and the survivors of the attack fleet that we’re holding. Understand that right now you have no choice in the matter and you will be coming over here. Your ship and crew are currently safe from any attack by one of our ships as long as you do not deviate from any orders given. Is this understood?” “Understood, I’ll make my way across in an unarmed Raptor.” He nodded to Tigh to stand the man down, he was going across to the Tau’ri ship whether he liked it or not. “That won’t be necessary, Commander. We already know where you are,” O’Neill said. “You will be transported across immediately.” “How?” Adama asked. His answer was simple as he disappeared in a flash of light. The battlestar’s command crew stood in shock as the man disappeared from his standing position, half a second later a familiar shout came from over the active communications channel. “What the frak was that?” “Valkyrie, this is Halsey. Commander Adama is safe on board our ship. Power down your FTL drives immediately, or we’ll be forced to disable them.” “Mr Gaeta?” The younger man shook his head at the unasked question. The course that they would need to program in would take a lot longer than the time they had. Even with the order to leave if they had to there was no way for them to escape from the surrounding warships. Reluctantly the colonel ordered the shutdown of their FTL drives. *********** USAF Halsey Prometheus-II Class Cruiser William Adama was concerned. He was more than that; he was very, very worried. His exclamation had proved that beyond all doubt. Only a few moments ago he had been aboard his own ship readying himself for transfer from the Valkyrie to the Tau’ri ship. Then, without his permission or even a proper warning he had been pulled from the Command Center of the battlestar to the bridge of the far smaller but no less dangerous Prometheus. As his vision had cleared he had found himself facing six marines in full armour and brandishing several smaller but very dangerous looking rifles. Several of the officers of the ships’ crew sat looking at him their contempt barely hidden by the inherent professionalism. He couldn’t blame them for their actions, especially after the clusterfrak that led to the defacto state of war between the thirteen human worlds. He straightened his shoulders and looked at the man standing in front of what couldn’t have been anything less than the ship’s main command chair, General Jack O’Neill. Adama looked at the man as he stared back. “Commander William Adama, Commanding Officer of the Battlestar Valkyrie.” “General Jack O’Neill, Head of Homeworld Security, Commander of the Earth’s Planetary Defence Forces,” the other man replied before gesturing to the windows. “I have something that belongs to you Commander. You might have already seen her out there.” Adama turned to see the heavy cruiser that they had scanned earlier. Unlike the other wrecked and discarded ships he could still see nearby this one was lit up with her engines evidently running. Her nameplate had been removed, however and a crudely painted name he couldn’t read put in its place. He turned back to O’Neill with the question on his lips. Jack pre-empted him. “She’s been renamed the Botany Bay. A couple centuries ago a place called Botany Bay was a harbour for prisoners to be dropped off on an island that was almost wholly a penal colony. We thought it was the right name for a ship like this.” “What is she?” “She’s a ship you’re taking home when you leave in a few minutes.” O’Neill replied. “Nine hundred and thirteen of your people are being returned to your colonies as a peace offering. Those few survivors are a group that behaved as decent people towards my world and the people that decided that they should be helped even though they helped destroyed several cities and more than fifty million people across the planet’s surface. Most people would have liked to have used the same nukes you did on those survivors. These few are about a twentieth of the survivors of your fleet left here when you ran.” Jack shrugged. “The rest are on another planet and will be staying there for as long as this war goes on. Anyone else we catch or bring back will likewise go to that planet. None have been tortured for information and none have been left to die if we could stop them. Most of our people were seriously upset about this decision but is part of our laws.” “Any you’re letting them go?” asked Adama. “Yep. Once your ship and that one are both fed the correct co-ordinates both of you will be sent home with your crew unharmed. After that, you will inform your government that the next time one of your ships comes within ten light years of this system, we will not only eradicate that ship but we’ll blast another dozen out of the sky wherever we find them.” “We’re not here for a fight General. Our orders said implicitly that we shouldn’t get into a gunfight if we could help it,” said Adama. “As it is, we’ve not caused any damage and if you want I’ll have our nukes ejected into space so you can destroy them yourselves.” O’Neill smirked before looking out of the window at the star field as three more lights lit up close by. “All things considered that won’t be necessary Commander. I doubt that you or your crew are overly suicidal right now.” Adama followed his gaze watching as his stomach dropped to the floor. Another two warships and one of the Prometheus types were now arcing into view. Fifteen warships were now evident and the Gods alone knew how many were out of sight or on other missions, some perhaps even close to the Colonies reconning or maybe even attacking. Six ships destroyed or routed two hundred of the Colonies best. Ships massing dozens of times their combined weights were blown apart and now they had three times the numbers and growing. The Admiralty would need to know about this turn of events as quickly as possible, if O’Neill was telling the truth and they were allowed to leave, of course. “You could have killed the survivors and then us when we arrived but you are letting us go, both ships full of intelligence on your people and the local area. Why?” “Because we’ve no reason to kill them or you,” Jack shrugged. “We’re at war. That’s usually enough.” “Not this time Commander,” O’Neill nodded. “But this is the only freebie you get, understand that.” Adama nodded. “So what now?” “Now we’re going to send you back and then both you and the Botany Bay will use the co-ordinates we send you to go home. Don’t come back to our system if you value your lives. Then I go home, eat pizza and drink a lot of beer.” “Sounds like a good plan, General.” “I thought so.” Jack turned. “Send him back.” Adama disappeared in another shaft of light that deposited him back on his command deck practically where he had left it. Tigh spun around from his own position grasping a handhold on the DRADIS console beside him. “Frak Bill, how the hell did they do that?” he asked. “Hell, what the hell did they do?” “I don’t know and I’m sure I really don’t want to know,” Bill whispered. “We’ll be receiving a transmission from the Halsey shortly. It’s a series of jump co-ordinates that they want us to use when we leave. We’ll be escorting some of our own people home.” “What?” Tigh looked incredulously at his old friend. “They’re letting out people go? “Less than a thousand out of what they say they have, at least twenty thousand survivors.” Bill sighed. “The majority of them are on another planet according to O’Neill.” “That’s impossible.” “Is it? They have access to dozens of our ships any one of which can carry thousands of people between planets if crammed into every quarter and every spare space they can find. A few jumps to and from Earth and they have everybody they want to get rid of in one go. I believe O’Neill on this one.” “Sir,” Gaeta spoke up. “We’re getting a data stream from the Halsey… Sir they look like a jump course.” “Very well.” “Sir, it’s a very strange one. Far bigger than anything I’ve seen before.” “Explain.” “The usual courses we plot for single jumps are a base twenty code to two hundred and forty points. This one is a base ten to over two thousand points.” Gaeta explained shaking slightly. “Commander, this- this jump is as impossible as one I’ve ever seen. The computers indicate that this is a direct jump from Earth to the outer reaches of the Colonial Sector. We’d be back in orbit of Caprica in three jumps with two of them being within the Cyrannis systems themselves. I’ve never seen anything like this.” “Any chance it could cause us to overshoot our target, have us jump inside a planet?” Tigh questioned. “I don’t believe so, sir. These are cold calculations. It’ll drop us right where it says it will. I could input the co-ordinates manually, just in case there’s a virus that’ll do far worse to us,” Gaeta answered. “Do it.” Adama replied. “Send a transmission to the Botany Bay and tell them to do the same thing.” “Sir?” Gaeta asked. “The Tau’ri aren’t stupid enough to believe that we’d simply load the program in, they’d guess what we would really do.” “Aye, sir. It’ll take a few minutes.” “Take your time, Ensign.” ******** USS Halsey Prometheus Class Cruiser “Transmission between Battlestar Valkyrie and Cruiser Botany Bay.” “Translate it,” O’Neill ordered. “They are ordering the Bay to input their co-ordinates manually in case the transmission we sent them had a virus or any other form or malware included. The other ship is acknowledging. They’ll be ready in about five minutes. It’ll take another fifteen to spool up their FTL drives,” Lt Commander Rico said. “Sir, are we really letting both these ships go?” “Where there goes that plan.” O’Neill replied, “Those Colonials and others like them helped save this planet Commander. I’m a lot of things but I keep my word.” “Yes, sir.” “The IOA are gonna be pissed with you again Jack,” General Ronson said from behind them. “Letting those POWs out isn’t a smart move.” “I made a deal with them, Ronson. The council agreed with me then and even if they don’t, now the agreement was ironclad.” “Jackson?” “Yup.” “That boy’s too smart for his own good sometimes.” “Don’t I know it.” “Sirs, both ships are powering up their sublight drives.” “All ships this is O’Neill. Pull back from the Colonial ships and open a hole for them.” All eight warships of the Tau’ri fleet slowly backed away from the Colonial vessels allowing them to navigate free and clear from their position. The battlestar began to move from her standstill towards empty space away from both Earth and its moon. As they moved out of their high orbit close to the stellar satellite the DRADIS picked up more ships close by. There was another of the command ships followed by another handful of the Prometheus’, including one without its common bays. Instead, massive claws and cranes decorated the sides bringing crates and containers aboard. Smaller escorts and ships akin to freighters or tankers also flew by several slowing down as they passed the Colonial warships as if to look at them for the first time. The incredible numbers of ships now available to the Tau’ri horrified many of the crew of the warship as the DRADIS pinged more and more craft throughout the system. Some were unlike the others while a handful were far bigger pyramidal shaped vessels that were bristling with weapons, at least the ones they could see purely by the eye. “Colonial ships are spooling their FTL drives.” “All ships to full alert,” O’Neill replied. “Just in case.” With a flash the Battlestar disappeared into its own version of FTL, its cruiser counterpart following it within a second. More than a minute passed before O’Neill nodded to himself and ordered the fleet to stand down. The Colonials were gone and they would be quite comfortably back in their own space. At least until the truth of the matter began to circulate. It was amazing what a few voices and whispers would be able to do to the Colonial government. All things considered though he had a strange feeling he would see that Commander again.
Ash's Boomstick. CH_19a -.Japan-_ Yamada&Grant, CobraOne, Tests; SouthAfrica; Ba'al; Icarus; Jackson&Young, Tollans, Schrödinger Chapter 19 Viper Research and Engineering Facility Mitsubishi Testing Grounds Japan Hikiru Yamada was not a happy man, but to be fair that was an understatement of the year. “And I’m telling you it’ll be fine Hikiru. The entire thing is made up of the best stuff we have.” “I understand that Grant-san, but the fact is that it is a heavy modification of something built to use for a different tech base. The entire thing could come apart at anything above Mach one,” The young Japanese man spoke up. “Please do not do this until we have tested it more.” “Old friend, if we tested this thing any more it’d have more degrees than I do. Now clear off and let me get this thing in the air.” “This is a mistake.” “I’ve got an ejection seat, a parachute and access to a transporter beacon. What could go wrong?” Steven Grant thought over what he’d just said. “I just really jinxed myself didn’t I?” “You are already crazy enough that a jinx would be the least of your problems.” “Look it’s a takeoff manoeuvre and landing set, easiest thing possible and I promise I won’t break Mach One without your say so. Alright?” “You will not listen.” Yamada dropped from the ladder pulling it away from the aircraft before trundling it away. “I will be there to make sure that you do not die in this foolish errand. Stupid, pig-headed English jerk.” Laughing lightly at his partner’s antics, the British test pilot closed the cockpit of his highly modified fighter. A slight hiss sealed the highly advanced cockpit against the outside atmosphere completely enclosing him away from the external world. Hitting the ignition switches, the modified engines began to turn, shaking the entire aircraft slightly as they wound up. Securing the controls, he pushed the throttle to half way as he released the brakes sending the fighter hurtling forward. The F-302 continued to accelerate far faster than its pilot was used to, reaching take-off speed within six seconds. Pulling back on the control column the fighter slipped into the air and away from the tower. Slowly the throttle was pulled back from the halfway point, slowing the fighter craft down to barely above stalling speed before the pilot allowed his grip to loosen from the controls. Slipping up his visor he wiped the sweat from his forehead before looking back at his instruments. “This is Cobra One to control tower, come in.” “This is Control Tower.” The barely restrained voice of Yamada snarled. “What the hell were you thinking up there, you fool.” “Slow down, old man.” Grant replied. “I pushed the throttle to what we believed would be take off speed with these new engines, we must have miscalculated somewhere because I was off the floor in half the time I expected to be.” He could hear the sigh of his friend across the radio. “How is she handling?” “Not too bad.” Grant moved the controls sending the plane in a few slight manoeuvres across the sky, “The handling is a little stickier than on the original. We may need to improve the ducting for the variable thrust to compensate for the heavier thrust ratio. I’m going to take her back up to about half power and climb to about fifteen thousand and then give her a shakedown at high altitudes.” “Alright, we will get you cleared to thirty thousand, but after that you get back down here and let us go over the instruments,” the Asian man ordered. “You got it, Boss.” Pointing the 302’s nose to the sky, the test pilot eased the throttle up higher towards the midpoint. Already the fighter was hurtling through the air at several hundred miles an hour before he took his hand off the power limiting the engines to below the speed of sound. Grant settled into his seat, thrilled at the power behind him replacing the far more limited systems that the original fighter had had before the modifications. They had their reasons to hate the Colonials, but for Grant, Yamada and their team, they could only thank them. The newly modified 302/B had been rebuilt from the fuselage up adding a number of major changes that had increased the potential within the space going interceptor. The Colonial technologies, while as a whole were slightly inferior as compared to the 302 class, were still a matured technology and were very, very capable when employed aboard the Earth built fighters. The three tier engine systems of the original had been replaced by a quartet of far smaller and advanced engines ripped out of the Colonial Vipers and modified with a few touches of their own. Now they ran off of a combination solid fuel supply and an enhanced Naquada generator. A few more modifications had been garnered from their own fighters, allowing for the engines to be reduced yet further in size and adapted to use vectored thrust. The already impressive agility of the Earth fighter had been improved by more than twice its original capability even before the tweaks that were usually inevitable on a modification like this. A few avionic instruments had likewise been stripped out of the vipers to enhance those already aboard the 302, specifically to replace those that had controlled the three engines of the original. Now they had found that the changes made to the fighter were far and beyond what they had expected even from their computer models. Something somewhere had been missed and now the modified fighter would quickly outstrip the original in almost all aspects. As the aircraft reached its target height the power was pulled back to the minimum needed, Grant looked across the panels. With all systems in the green across the board, he contacted the Ground Control. “This is Cobra One to Control, have reached designated height and am awaiting orders.” “This is Control, local airspace is clear Cobra one, manoeuvres at your discretion.” “Roger Control, this should be fun.” Thanks to the use of inertial dampeners and lifting areas of the original design, the 302 had always been among the most agile of the known fighters whether from the allies or the enemy. They were able to outrun and outmanoeuvre everything from Death Gliders to Wraith Darts. Their abilities were only matched by those of the Colonial Vipers, which was to be expected from a race with almost a century of stellar conflict. Refits to the 302s would blow the Vipers out of the water the next time that there were forced into combat against their enemies. But for the moment, the team needed to know exactly what their new fighter was capable of. Pushing the throttle up to the same point as before, the pilot began a complex group of turns and twists pushing the fighter to its very limits. Pulling out of a turn, Grant activated the combined inertial dampener/thrust controls before pulling the control column straight towards him. The result was phenomenal, the entire craft flipped almost a full one eighty while continuing on its course. A split second later as it completed a full three hundred and sixty degree flip while still inside the atmosphere, the fuselage began to creak and groan under the pure effort that was being required. Stressed to the very limit by the manoeuvres, the fighter’s structure shifted back as the forces against it flattened out. The 302 had been built to take atmospheric entry and exit on a regular basis but even with the powerfully built structure of the world’s first active starfighter, the pure strain put on the fighter within the atmosphere could possibly cause irreparable damage. “Cobra One to Control, this thing moves like it was already in outer space. Systems are nominal and the structure is intact, request permission to go Mach Plus.” “Control to Cobra One, telemetry agrees, but I caution that the modifications in simulation have become less than stable once Mach one plus had been reached within the atmosphere. At the first sign of a problem you are to reduce power immediately.” “Roger that Control, Cobra One out.” Grant signed off. “Let’s see just what this thing can do.” Pushing the throttle past the mid-point this time, he accelerated the fighter past the speed of sound and well into the points system afterwards. Point one, point two up to point five half way between the first and second mach limiters. The acceleration was above and beyond that of any of the fighter craft that he had flown up till now, be it human, alien, British, American, Colonial or something someone hacked up in their private garage. Passing through the sound barrier the modified 302 began to shudder as the inherent instability of the design began to make itself known, built to include the best technology available to the Earth forces the fighter made even the deliberately unstable F22 Raptor and Eurofighter Typhoon seem sedate in comparison. Continuing his acceleration Grant felt the flight begin to smooth out as the powerful flight computers both onboard and on the ground made tens of thousand of miniature adjustments every second. Given its already impressive capabilities in the air the 302 would now far surpass fighter in the known galaxy and then some. They would need it the next time the Earth forces came up against the Colonial fighter wings. Although the losses of the few hundred fighters of the Earth’s defence forces had been over three quarters their number, they had taken out the equivalent of three and a half to one in favour of the 302s. Even with the majority of the losses taken by the Colonials having been due to the use of heavily enhanced nukes that exploded amongst their lines, the Vipers had been a match for the Earth fighters due to their experience and slightly better technology of their Viper and Raptor counterparts. The problem for the IOA forces had been pure numbers arrayed against them. The ships may have been able to go one on one or even several to one before they ran out of armament but the fighters had been too close in ability to win the day. A further problem had arisen as the Colonials revealed just how many fighters they could field during the battle. Just one Battlestar group could launch as many fighters as the Earth forces had in total with some left over. The entire fleet had one squadron of their own fighters for every one 302 that the Earth could scrounge into the battle. Worse odds had been seen but only in ancient history or imperial invasions of other countries. Considering the pure numbers against them several of the nations now belonging to the IOA had questioned continuing to build and populate their defences with expensive aircraft, especially considering the experience that the Colonial fleet had in space based fighter and warship combat. Unlike the other powers such as the Goa’uld and the Wraith, the Earth’s fighters weren’t used in ground assault, kidnapping or wholesale terror against less developed races. As such the point defences on their warships could simply be upgraded to take on large numbers of enemy fighters. With the Colonials unable to penetrate their shields with anything less than a multimillion ton ship ramming them, the IOA council believed that the costs for the fighter wings could simply go into newer vessels, especially gun and missile heavy ships such as those under construction by the United Kingdom and her Commonwealth and the Chinese Navy. Earth’s point defence systems would shred the vipers beyond their own missile range while the survivors would simply waste their ammunition against the 304 class’ shields. However, the team hoped that the modifications to the starfighters would tip the balance even further their way by making sure that the 302s would be able to take on more than five to one odds. The speed and agility advantages already apparent in this redesign meant that the Vipers would find themselves in a bad position if they made another attempt on Earth. Unfortunately for the pilots that would be defending said world, they could and likely would be outnumbered by far, even with thousands of fighters either under construction or planned there was little they would be able to do outside of a small number of very heavy missile barrages to soften up the Colonial fleet. Slipping the throttle forward to the second notch, Grant felt the craft pick up speed far beyond anything that built on Earth, blowing past Mach two, then three into four. He pulled up on the stick tilting the nose to the sky and began climbing past thirty thousand feet. He blinked as the angle continued to rise, coming close to sixty degree and continuing up ever faster, the speed and angle of ascent was far deeper and faster than they should have been considering the throttle was far below where it should have been. “Cobra One to Control, systems looking good at Mach Four Point three and thirty six thousand feet. Possible problem with the thrust to weight ratio giving me more power to the main engines than they should, continuing to fifty thousand and Mach Five plus.” “Any other problems, Cobra One?” “Negative Control. She’s moving as well as anything I’ve ever flown.” “Then I owe you an apology, Grant-San.” “Nah forget it. The buttressing worked around the engines better than we expected. We’ll need to check on other trinium alloy mixes for that if we get the chance.” “Affirmative, Cobra One,” said Yamata. “Bring her back down; we’ve got tests to do.” “Aahhh, come on, Hikiru! This thing can take a hell of a lot more. We might as well see what she can really do before we rebuild her with the rest of the new tech we’re putting in,” Grant argued. “I’m going to push her to three quarters and sixty thousand feet, then I’ll bring her down.” “No, bring her down, now.” “We need the on board telemetry and instrumentation to show what she can do.” “Spoil-sport.” “Once we have the rest of the information we can begin tests with the new equipment Grant-San, including the new weapons system and Heads-up Display.” Grant grinned at the inflection in his friend’s voice. Out of all of them, the introverted Japanese was the one most looking forward to the upgrades that were being made to the fighter’s combat equipment. Thanks to the influx of scientists, technicians, theorists and a hell of a lot of financing, the weapons designers for the fleet had been able to compact down known and experimental technologies into a new generation of armament for both the warships and now the starfighters. The next set of experiments would see the total replacement of the F302’s twin Vulcan cannon armament with a pair of modified and severely cut down versions of the Daedalus class’s point defence rail guns. Using a lot of new technologies with some strange and not too common thinking, the new weapons would be small enough to fit inside the fuselage thanks to the removal of three quarters of the engine and power systems. With a reservoir of caseless 5mm rounds instead of large magazines of the common 7.62 or 27mm caliber that most fighters were forced to use, the railguns would be able to fire for longer both in combat duration and would expand the engagement times by more than three times. Facing the 20mm cannons of the Viper classes would give the 302 the higher effective range with their weapons allowing them to get in hits far beyond the Colonial’s own. Backed up by the increase from two missiles per wing to four, this would allow the Earth based pilots to hit both fighters and Colonial warships from far beyond their current range. Their missile armaments were already at the maximum that could be carried by the external hard points, however with the increase in power to the main engines, heavier anti-ship weapons could be carried as could a single larger nuclear warhead within the ship’s hull as the space would be available with the removal of the second seat and old fuel system and supply tanks. A final modification had been made to the fighter’s internal communications and data systems. This had been done using both HUD technology from both reverse engineered alien technology and several newer systems from the arguably more advanced vipers. The holographic system would replace the majority of the dials and readouts of the F-302’s cockpit, however even with the replacements, backups would be there in case of a whiteout or system error by those systems. It was unfortunate that the plasma refits were still unlikely in the current climate. Even with the completed and installed versions on the warships of the fleet, they were still deemed too dangerous to put onto anything smaller than an Apollo Class Frigate. Given time they would be able to knock out the bugs and improve the size and firepower of the weapons, but by that time Grant already knew they would have started replacing these snakehead knock offs with real home grown designs instead. “Alright, alright I’m pulling back.” Grant frowned at the controls. “That’s odd.” “Don’t say shit like that, Grant.” The voice of their commander and military attaché Colonel Baxter came over the radio. “It’s not odd as in bad, but odd and in ‘what the hell.’” “What is it Grant?” Yamada asked. “The Naquada reactor is increasing power to the engines for some reason, I’m pulling down the throttle but it’s still rising.” “Pull back on the throttle to ten percent.” “I’m already below that, I thought the thrust/weight ratio was screwed up.” “Cut the power and try for a manual reboot.” “Affirmative Control.” Grant hit the kill switch for the reactor sending the command to shut down the primary power systems, batteries and a small amount of the Colonial’s fuel source were all that kept him aloft. At the speeds he was going they wouldn’t last long. Reactivating the Mark One-C Naquada generator the entire fighter regained equilibrium and slowed as the throttle was eased down. “This is Cobra One, reactor shut down and restart was successful. Speed has dropped to sub-mach speeds.” “We read you Cobra One, do you require retrieval?” “I…” Grant began, but the fighter had gone out of control once and could have continued to speed up until the fuselage gave way. On the other hand, it seemed to be alright at this point in time but there was no way to know what would happen if he continued to fly and something else went wrong. He sighed and leant back in his chair. “Affirmative Control, send the Guard Dog.” “On her way, Cobra One. Be careful.” “I’ll try, Cobra One out.” Grant sighed as he closed the comms channel as he awaited the Daedalus class ship high above them to bring him in. “Well maybe next time.” Unknown Location South Africa Fifty Miles inside the Exclusion Zone. “The test went ahead as you requested, my lord.” “And?” “Seventy percent failure in the reactor systems leading to an almost uncontrolled runaway increase in speeds. The damage to the reactor will be insurmountable leading to a withdrawal of the equipment from use by the armed forces. As the fault is part of the original design and can not be worked around, we should see a request for a new tender within the month. Our agent within the Lockheed design group was more than successful and should return to us within the week.” “Good. Once the tender is requested put our own bid in within three days at one third above the price of the original reactor shielding and put on the usual caveats as well. We can't allow Stargate Command to think we don't care about this world can we?” “Indeed not my lord.” The woman smirked nastily. “I'm beginning to like this insignificant little planet; shame to see it go to waste.” Ba'al replied with a laugh. “Well, not until I can get as much out of it as I can after all.” USAF Icarus Prometheus-II Class Cruiser The Icarus dropped from hyperspace high above a desolate and deserted world, little more than a wreck of a planet the view was unfortunately a very familiar one to its sole non-military passenger. Entering a close orbit invisible waves of energy scanned across the surface of the world pulling up what little detail that existed. Several large areas shone like water but close up was very different indeed. Icecaps across both poles had begun to expand and grow across the planet gradually destroying everything in its path, an ice age in the making. “We’re in orbit, Doctor Jackson.” “Any life signs?” “Except for at the poles there’s very little of the biosphere, the damage done by Anubis must have been total on this side of the planet.” Colonel Everett Young looked out of the window. “We’ve got massive deposits of glass and debris around where the Stargate was, the entire area is completely destroyed.” “I didn’t think there would be any, but I needed to know.” Daniel looked back out. “What about the other scans?” “The inhabitants were very thorough in their construction. There is a very high amount of naquada and trinium on the planet’s surface, high levels of heavy minerals in deep veins across the entire planet. It’s perfect for what we need.” “That much I remember.” Daniel kept staring at his old home., “Even after three years I’m still remembering things that I’d forgotten. Are you sending down teams?” “Yes, two teams.” Young confirmed. “One to the capital, the other to the largest vein of Naquada, and see if we can set up a camp at both.” “I’d like to go down with one of them.” “I thought you would. Colonel Telford will be heading the expedition to the city and Major Thomas to the vein.” “The capital I think this time, Colonel.” Daniel decided. “I never got the chance to see much of that world. Maybe I should.” “Your choice Doctor Jackson. Telford’s team will be in the port bay when you’re ready.” Less than an hour later, Daniel found himself on the planet's surface watching as two of the ship's marine teams spread out from the beam down point. The place seemed deserted and for good reason. The vast majority of the capital city had been rendered little more than ash and debris from a good few direct hits from one of Anubis' upgraded warships. The stargate itself was gone, most likely destroyed by a direct hit from a capital scale cannon although it's non-standard construction meant that the usual detonation of a stargate didn't happen, meaning that except for the hole where it used to stand the area around it was simply covered with scraps of buildings. Sighing to himself, Daniel stowed his rifle and bent down to pull a small piece of metal away from the side of a building. The grimacing skull of one of the world's former denizens lay cracked and broken on the floor. Looking down, Daniel could see the rest of the body underneath the fallen stanchion of what had once been a municipal building, looking back up he carefully and with respect, replaced the metal plate and stood up. “The Tollan did good work Doctor Jackson.” Lt Montgomery walked up behind him. “Some of the buildings are still intact as are a number of computer systems. Their power plants are dead though, so we'll have to bring some stuff down from the Icarus to support and attempt to retrieve data from their computers.” “The Curia quarters for one should have something we need if they haven't been destroyed.” Daniel looked around. "It's a hell of a lot colder that it used to be, must be all the dust in the air." “Anubis left a lot intact didn't he? Why didn't anyone come back after and rip the place off?” the marine asked. “Most people probably couldn't get here unless they had high technology ships like Apophis or Anubis. The rest were probably afraid to, in case they were seen by one of Anubis' ships and destroyed or worse, followed. Some might even have been unwilling to come close considering the destruction caused to the planet would mean most travellers would see it as a ghost world.” “A ghost world?” “The galaxy has been under the yoke of the system lords for tens of thousands of years, Lieutenant. Superstition was the watchword of the day for most of them, even those with advanced technology. A ghost world is one of the most terrifying things that most of them could think of. It's the same reason we've found so many empty, but untouched worlds all over the galaxy. No-one is stupid enough to invade their space in case the spirits of their dead population rise up against them.” The young marine swallowed. “You believe that, Doctor Jackson?” “I've seen stranger things LT, far stranger things,” Daniel replied smiling. “I've been stranger things than that.” “Yes, sir. We've no sign of survivors yet. Everything's untouched around here.” “My guess is that most of the survivors if any would be long gone from here. Why stay somewhere that is a big fat target for any system lord that decides that he disliked the Tollan for any reason. No, if the Icarus picks up any life signs they'll be far away from here, well into the mountains and lowlands across the other side of the world,” Daniel supposed, “although they might have left some clue for any other survivors to follow them, we just need to find them.” “Did you know many of them, sir?” “The Tollan?” Daniel asked at the marine's nod. “A few like Narim and Travell mainly; a small number of historians and scientists that allowed me to look through their archives the few times we were allowed to come here. But most of the Tollan race kept to themselves when it came to other civilisations mostly due to fear, but sometimes due to arrogance.” “Excuse me. Doctor Jackson.” Lt. Colonel Telford walked up to the two of them. “I think you need to see this.” Escorting the archaeologist to the other side of the former Curia building, the two marines came across an opened set of double doors, crusted with dirt and warped slightly by extreme heat from the close range impacts of the Goa'uld plasma fire they were still sturdy and usable. They had already been forced open by the SG team allowing Daniel inside the small corridor. The far end had collapsed inwards, the structure falling down into the space below blocking the way into the inner rooms of the council chambers. However, the blockage was not the thing that was foremost on his mind when he went through the doors. At the far end attached to a fallen post was a single small circle of fabric with a metal disc hanging from it. On the metal was a single word- “Schrödinger.” “Doctor Jackson?” Telford proffered. “It's a cat collar.” Daniel smiled. “It's a message.” “A message?” “Yep.” Daniel keyed his radio. “Jackson to Icarus.” “This is Icarus, go ahead.” “We have confirmation Colonel, there are survivors on this planet.” the linguist said, “And they left us a message.” “Understood Doctor Jackson. We'll let Home world Command know.” “Thank you, Jackson out.” He looked up at Telford. “The cat, I remember the report,” the marine replied. “If they are still here shouldn't we have had some kind of response from our hails or something from the planetary scans?” “Parts of the planet are still heavily forested or full of heavy metals. They could hide most of their population without problems,” Daniel surmised. “Besides, with the amount of damage done to the infrastructure here there may not be anything they can respond with.” “So what now?” “I haven't a clue. Unless the Icarus can find something then we'll have to search the cities and surrounding areas one at a time.” He looked at Telford's smirk. “What?” “I think we have something on the Icarus that might just help with that.”
Ash's Boomstick. CH_19b -.Tollana-_ Daniel&Telford, Molin&Narim; BSG Valkyrie; Bill&Tigh, Gaeta, HonoriousBluff, Evans, McKay, Jack&Frank Two Hours Later. “Now why the hell didn't we think of this?” Daniel shouted over the sound of the wind. “Most of the time we explored only around the gates,” Telford shouted back. “That was usually all we needed. Now that we're at war with the Colonials, the Marine Corps decided to change the way things were done. The Brits threw a few on their warships for just this kind of thing. We just followed on from that.” The two military off-road vehicles chewed up the space between the capital and the closest of the surrounding towns. With the cities and population areas the primary targets, the transit ways between them were mostly intact with breaks in the material usually due to erosion or from plant life retaking its home. One or two times they had had to drive around craters from Death Glider attacks or the odd piece of debris blown into the sky only to fall on the road. “Slow down, sir.” the young Lt said from the passenger seat. “There's something up ahead.” Eyes now peeled for anything out of the ordinary the occupants of the vehicle watched carefully as they coasted to as stop a few dozen meters from the figure on the road; slowly Montgomery turned the body over. He stopped before shaking his head. The body was dead and looked to have been for some time. “Nothing, sir. It's a dead body.” he called over his shoulder before frowning. The blood that had come out of a neck wound was still visible on the ground and clothing. “But it's not been dead for more than a few weeks. I think we found a survivor.” “On foot out here.” Telford shouted. “We can't be far from one of their enclaves.” “The wound seems to have been made by something living.” He pulled out a knife before easing something out of the wound. “It left something inside the neck.” Walking back to the vehicle he washed down his gloved hand with water from a canteen, cleaning off the gunk from the fragment as well as his hand. Brushing it off somewhat, he held it up in the light in front of his CO and the archaeologist. “It's a tooth, alright.” Daniel replied. “It's not human if that's what you’re thinking.” “After five years Doctor Jackson it wouldn't have surprised me.” Telford smirked before sobering “What is it?” “By the looks of it some kind of large canine or feline,” frowned Daniel. “There are a few animal species on this planet but they stick to the forests and non-inhabited areas. Even with the damage taken here they shouldn't be this close to the cities.” “After the bombardment Doctor, they may have had to come closer for food and warmth. The dust clouds don't make this the easiest of places to live in especially after the ash settled.” Telford frowned again. “Times like this we could do with some of Atlantis' life sign readers.” “Still nothing from the orbital scans?” “Not yet, one second though.” Telford grabbed the vehicle's radio. “Icarus this is Telford, come in.” “We read you David, what's up?” “Can you scan the immediate ten k radius for anything life signs? Our scanners can get through the interference to get an accurate reading.” “Give us a few minutes,” Young replied. Within that allotted time the ship scanned through the clouds of ash and dust in the air above the team. The devastation to the areas around them was so complete that even away from the cities it was difficult for the warship to pick up anything through the debris. “There's a trinium mine about six miles to your southwest, there's little above ground construction but we can scan up to a few hundred meters underground then the interference gets two heavy. Another target is a uranium deposit fifteen miles north north east, but that's it in this area.” “We'll try the closest one Everett. If we don't find anything we'll return to the ship.” Telford nodded to Daniel who nodded back. “We'll try again in the morning.” “Understood, Icarus Out.” “Weather's closing in,” the Colonel said. “We won't get much more out of the day before the hail starts. If it comes to it we'll say in the mining tunnels or beam out.” “Alright.” Daniel responded. “Shall we?” The mine was unlike those of Earth based construction. Here the mine was made up of long shallow underground caverns mined out and cleared while fusing the loose rock and soil that made up the majority of the crust. Deep transit tubes and tunnels spun round and downwards through the surface of the planet like a corkscrew with yet more caverns and tunnels built in the same manner as the opened caverns topside. Fast trams could make their way to anywhere in the complex within minutes even given the size and depth of the mine, while large automated buckets would zip back and forth from the mines. Given the size of the complex and the technology used it was easy to see how the Tollan had begun to strip the planet of the majority of its Trinium. It seemed the request that led to their destruction wasn't as completely bogus as first believed. The complex however was a mess, two years without repairs or upkeep meant that the entire place was covered with dust and debris with scattered nests belonging to animals that had made the caverns their home or skeletons of those that didn't survive. None of the rail carts seemed to be in evidence, only the ore carriers and a few maintenance buggies. The attack must have killed the power before the miners and anyone else below could use them. Daniel hoped that there was a manual entrance down there, or those poor bastards would have been trapped down there slowly dying of suffocation or starvation or both. He shuddered to think what they would find down there. A burly Sgt walked up to Daniel. “What do you think, sir?” “No power means no way of getting down there unless we find a staircase or some other way down.” “Even as advanced as they were, it's good sense to have a second way out of an enclosed mine shaft,” the Sgt replied. “We just need to find it.” “Even if we find it there’s more than a passing chance that the impacts up top have damaged the tunnels, we might have nothing more than blocked tunnels like the corridors up top. If we do then until we get some construction battalions down here we’re stuck.” Montgomery looked across at the rest. “So where do we look?” “Same place as back home, the platforms and tunnels.” The closest entrances to the underground caverns were at the far end of the ‘station’ with most of the heavy doors already long since sealed due to loss of power. Somehow one of the massive doors had been jammed open by someone leaving one very steep crevasse bare for all to see. The marines quietly rigged up their ropes and pulleys to the rear of the vehicle and headed down into the pitch black of the deep dark tunnels, Telford and one of the senior sergeants touched down first followed quickly by the rest of the eight man team. Silently the Colonel gestured to three of the men and pointed to the end of the tunnel, following orders, the marines spread out guns ready as they pushed down the into the opening. Pitch black turned into twilight as they continued down. The senior Sgt dropped to one knee bringing his heavy rifle up ready. “We’ve got movement,.” Sgt Clarkson whispered. “Shadows at the far end, small light source at the same point.” “Go to Infra-Red.” “Roger.” The burly Sgt slipped his goggle down and moved quietly through the shadow covered tunnel into the area ahead. Three signatures showed up in his goggle, one was the candle while two more were curled up on floor covered in a multitude of dirty and ripped blankets. It looked as if they had been down here for a very long time. Gesturing behind him Clarkson indicated the two survivors before moving forward. Neither figure was roused by his approach both already fast asleep at the small alcove. A quick glance gave evidence to the amount of time that the Tollans had been down here with grime and debris piled up in one corner while another had rows of supplies that must have been hard to get hold of considering the damage done to the topside of the planet. A handful of small weapons were also arrays nearby both pistol and rifle variants of those that had been identified by the SGC before the fall of Tollana. “Two contacts both seem to be asleep,” he whispered. “Approach and make contact,” Telford ordered. “Roger, stand by.” Standing up the marine Sgt walked across to the wall and slammed it with the butt of his gun sending a loud ringing bouncing around the enclosed space. It took less than a second for the inhabitants to come to consciousness and grab their weapons. Clarkson held his hands clear of his body and weapons, rifle now dangling from its sling barrel down. Both figures were still shrouded in their own clothes, large hoods covering their faces with shadow. “Easy, I’m just here to help. Sgt Harold Clarkson of the United States Air Force Ship Icarus, we’re here looking for survivors.” “No one comes to this world.” “What world are you from?” the other one growled. “That’s the thing,” Clarkson winced slightly. “We’re from Earth.” “Earth,” the same person growled. “I should kill you where you stand.” “Oh, I wouldn’t try.” “Why not?” “Look down.” The Tollan looked down to see two small red dots appear on his chest, the thin laser lines disappearing into the darkness. Huffing slightly the figure lowered its weapon followed by its fellow. “Thank you. Now why exactly did you think it would be a great idea to shoot someone who’s trying to find out if you guys were still alive down here?” “After what your people did to us?” “What we did?” “Because of your people our entire world was destroyed.” “Hold up on that…” “Sergeant, If I may?” said a from behind. “All yours, sir.” “Hi...” Daniel said out loud as he left the shadows, “I’m…” “Doctor Jackson?” grumbled the other figure. “I’m surprised you came back.” “We’ve only just been able to get a ship to Tollana to find out what happened.” Daniel looked at the two figures. “We wanted to know if anyone was left.” “And to steal anything you could get your hands on,” The first figure accused them, “anything left behind after you got our people killed.” “We weren’t responsible for what happened here.” “Your people caused the Goa’uld to target us. If you had done as you were told to and stayed there, our home wouldn’t have been destroyed!” “Is that what you think?” Clarkson sneered. “You’re more of a moron than I thought. Your people decided to betray us and send a nice little phased bomb through to destroy our planet. You really think it would have ended there?” “No.” the second man said., “But it would have given us a chance to find a way of stopping Anubis.” “At the risk of a planet with several dozen times the population of yours?” Telford looked over the two people. “We found this world, helped your planet and population from the mouth of death at least twice and you decided to stab us in the back, instead of helping us fight the Goa’uld. We finally were able to get a ship and came back to find survivors and get them out of here. If the rest of your people act like this we might just ignore you and leave you here to rot.” “We didn’t ask you to come here.” “Please everybody, enough.” Daniel exclaimed. “None of us are to blame for what happened. Anubis would have taken this planet out as soon as he had the chance either way. Your people were a threat to his dominance and once he had the technology to defeat you he’d have done whatever he liked to make you serve him. He’s long gone and won’t be coming back now or ever again. Your planet is safe from any attack from him or his people.” “Until another system lord comes around.” “The system lords are gone, brought down by their own Jaffa two years ago.” “What are you talking about?” the first man asked. “The System Lords have ruled over this galaxy for ten thousand years. How could the possibly have been destroyed?” “If they were still out there do you really think they wouldn’t have ripped off everything you had down here and taken the rest of you for hosts or slaves?” Montgomery looked at the two. “The major powers out there are the Jaffa Union, the Lucian Alliance and us.” “What could Earth possibly have done to become a major power?” “Saving every living being the galaxy several times over kinda gives us a rep,” Clarkson scowled. “We’ve got the name and the firepower to back it up with now.” “You can’t have that much in only a few years.” “Enough to take on two hundred armed warships and beat them back with minimal losses.” Clarkson grinned back nastily. “Plus destroying Anubis and dozens of his most powerful Ha’taks, a rogue Jaffa fleet and other assorted nasties that we’ve blown out of the stars. The fact that the Asgard, a dozen different powers and the heads of the Jaffa Nation all owe us big time means that we’re in a good place.” “A likely story.” “Well considering you’re in this place because of the shit you tried to pull instead of thinking it through, you think we care what you think?” “Please calm down,” intoned Daniel. “Look we’re here to help, not argue. We didn’t know if there were any survivors on this world let alone any within the limits of the capital city. None of our scans were able to pick up anyone on surface. We didn’t know anyone was left until we found a dead body on the side of the road. One that was only about three or four week’s dead.” “Golman.” The second figure slumped slightly. “He went out to forage a few weeks ago. We thought maybe he’d got to another enclave.” “Will you be quiet?” the first survivor hissed. “What’s the point?” The second looked across at his fellow survivor, “They could get anything out of us if they want to and they haven’t tried anything.” Pulling down his hood, the second figure looked out at the Earth-born humans; his bald head was crossed with old burn scars and healed over tears in the skin. The ragged beard looked dry cut without the use of a mirror or a honed blade. The sunken eyes and sallow flesh pointed to a bad diet and a long, long time underground out of the sun. They had seen worse but not by much. The figure stepped forward and stared at Daniel. “I am Defence Guard First Class Molin of the Curia Security Force.” he said. “I remember you well Doctor Jackson.” “You were one of the guards that tried to keep us confined during Anubis’ blackmail attempts.” “Yes, I was. I was one of the few to survive in bombardment of the Curia buildings by Death Gliders.” Molin nodded. “My friend here and I were able to rally a few of us down here.” “If we’d known we would have tried sending help long ago,” said Daniel. “I’m sorry.” “Without a Stargate and with the main communications arrays destroyed there was no way for anyone to know we were here. The ships we had available got who they could off of the planet and escaped. Most of them made it before they could be targeted and destroyed. After five years they might even be approaching friendly territory.” Molin looked at the archaeologist. “I have to warn you however that a lot of survivors on this world will and do blame the Tau’ri for what happened here even after the truth came out. I can’t tell you any more than that Doctor Jackson, all I can ask is that you and your people leave this world now before someone ends up hurt or dead.” “Who’s in charge down here?” Daniel asked, “Could we at least talk to them, maybe we can try and get some supplies to you somehow.” “Doctor Jackson, that isn't our mission.” Telford said. “We’ve got enough trouble as it is without bringing more into it.” “Well we can’t leave them now we know.” “We can try to get help once we’re done here.” “Let me talk to whoever is in charge and we can find out what they need.” “No, none of you will be going any further.” The first man looked at them. “We don’t want your help, and we don’t need your help. Leave.” “That’s not your choice,” Molin snapped at the other Tollan. “I’ll take one of you with us; the rest will stay here until otherwise told. Doctor Jackson if you….” Montgomery interrupted. “I’ll go. One of us unarmed should be alright. Better one of us than Doctor Jackson or you, Colonel.” “Are you sure, lieutenant?” Telford asked the junior officer. The sooner this was over with the better for them all. “Yes, sir. I don’t think anything will happen, at least, not yet.” “Very well,” Telford agreed reluctantly. “If you aren’t back within the hour we’ll be coming for you.” “Thank you, sir.” Montgomery flicked his sidearm out of its holster before handing it and his rifle to the Sergeant. “I’m ready when you guys are.” The trio left the military team behind them as they delved further into the dank tunnels behind them. A good twenty minutes passed as they dropped deeper into the man made caves lit barely by a small number of small, weak lights linked together every few hundred feet. At the end of the final tunnel the light increased dramatically opening out into a roughly carved expanse more than a mile long and half again as wide. Thousands of people, possibly more, milled around, either asleep, playing games or repairing equipment, clothing or anything else that could be of use to the survivors. Walking through the assembled throngs of people the Tau’ri officer was uncomfortably aware of the faces of the people around him, dirty, marked, scarred and burned. They looked at him, a multitude of emotions stitched on their faces, none of which he particularly wanted them to demonstrate as he passed by. One man was held in place by several of his fellows as the Lt. continued on. Montgomery pretended not to notice the angry man nor those holding him. If they wanted him dead there was little that could be done about it. As he approached the end of the concourse Montgomery noticed a congregation at the head, unlike the clustered survivors this area was kept as clean as could be expected and somewhat deserted. Undeterred by the looks of the people he was intruding on the soldier stepped up close to the person who led these few survivors, the haggard looking man had scars and burn marks much like those of the rest of his people but there the similarity ended. Deep lines were evident around his eyes and mouth caused by more than a small amount of pain, the man was missing his right leg half way up his thigh while his arm was held crooked by a permanent sling around his waist. “Sir, this is Lt Montgomery of the Tau’ri.” “So your people came back," the man said. His voice was horse. “I’m surprised they deigned to make an attempt to find us after the last time we met.” “We weren't able to get anyone here until recently, sir. We've had more than a few problems to deal with before we could check on the worlds that Anubis attacked.” “And what happened to Anubis?” “Gone, taken out by another one of the Ancients.” “Then at least we are able to reclaim our world.” “Yeah, most of the planet is still here. Dr Jackson said it had something to do with superstition.” “Daniel is here?” “Umm, yes sir, he is.” “Then please take me to him.” The crippled man pushed himself up on his single leg, the people around him easing his attempt as he stood up straight grasping a crude crutch to his side. Years of evident practice allowed the man to hobble upright. “Easy, are you sure of this?” the Canadian officer asked. “We’ve just got here and to be honest you look like you’d barely reach the tunnels let alone to the other end.” “I am more than capable of doing so,” the leader answered. “Please take me to him.” “Alright, one moment.” Montgomery replied grabbing his mic. “Sierra Golf Indigo One five to One Niner.” “This is One Niner.” Telford’s voice came across the earpiece “We have a survivor here that wants to see Sierra Golf One- Three.” “Threat assessment.” “Minimal, survivor is no threat to One-Three.” “Alright, have them bring the two of you back here. We’ll be waiting.” “Yes sir. One Five Out.” He turned back to the assembling Tollans. “I’ve been authorised to take you back to Doctor Jackson, but no more than three of you.” “What? That’s ridiculous,” one of the men shouted. “We can’t allow this Sir.” “Yes we can and we will. These people aren’t here to hurt us.” “Sir, we can’t allow this.”, “Yes you can and I will be going,” the man bit out. “We need help if we are going to survive and the Tau’ri are our best chance now. If they wanted anything from us they could have taken it and we’d never have seen them coming. I will meet with Doctor Jackson.” The twenty plus minute walk turned into one of more than an hour as the Tollan Leader walked alongside Montgomery. The same two men from before walked in front of them weapons rose in case of trouble. Several times the Lt considered asking if he could help the other man and each time he held his tongue. None of the survivors looked as if they would accept help in any way especially the injured. Maybe some took their injuries as a badge of honour and maybe some were unable to ask for help, but all were still as stubborn and pig headed as the reports suggested. “Halt!” a voice said from the end of the tunnel. “Colonel Telford.” “Lt. Montgomery, stay where you are.” “Yes, sir.” Telford approached the foursome his gun pointed down but ready while the rest of the team kept watch both down the tunnel and over the Tollan group. “Report, Lt.” “Sir, this gentleman is the leader of the survivor enclave that made it into the tunnels. There are several thousand people down there possibly more. Their leader wanted to talk to Doctor Jackson and I agreed.” “Very well, Doctor Jackson?” “I’m here.” The Tollan leader looked up at the former member of SG1 and smiled slightly, something that he had done very rarely since the destruction as the other man approached. Daniel’s own eyes widened in recognition as he took in the shell of a man and stopped. “Hello, Daniel.” “Narim?” Battlestar Valkyrie Guardian Class Three Battlestar Border of the Cyrannus Sector. In what seemed as both a split second and hours combined, the two Colonial ships burst from FTL in a flash of light. Onboard both ships, command began to check the status of their ships and crew. No ship in the fleet had even come close to the jump length that they had just been through, indeed only a very few could have come close with the most advanced computers that could be made available. The crews of both ships stood stock still as they looked around them. Aboard the Battlestar the command crew stared at the DRADIS screens. The ship was intact as was its crew, but where were they and could the Tau’ri have really been telling the truth when Adama ordered the use of their co-ordinates? Even with the most advanced and capable scanners and charts there was no way that the Colonials themselves could have made that trip in a single jump let alone even come close to calculating one directly into the gravity shells of the three stars that made up their home. Checks and rechecks proved beyond all doubt that the Tau’ri had been tell the truth about the range of their co-ordinates. The two ships had made it to the Cyrannus system in a single long range jump. It was frightening proof that the Tau’ri’s own navigational computers were far in advance beyond anything that Colonial technology could comprehend. Indeed they had already picked up a number of transmissions from local Battlestar groups on the borders as well as the pulse from the Caprica subspace beacon, the single most important piece of hardware, an incredible scientific and technological breakthrough, in use by the Colonial Fleet designed and built between the Cylon wars and the current conflict with the Tau'ri. It allowed exact navigational information the thousands of Colonial warships and the many millions of civilians that made up the wholly impressive economy of the twelve colonies. “Status.” “Ship has jumped Bill. We’ve got a DRADIS fix on the area,” Tigh responded “Scan the communications frequencies, get me an exact location.” “On it, sir.” Gaeta replied. “I’m getting a few low level civilian transmissions most are years old, but I’ve got one strong regular signal.” “Identify.” “Got it sir, Caprica Command and Control Beacon One Alpha,” the ship’s comms officer replied. “Strong signal from the beacon on a direct zero course.” “Confirmed, sir.” Gaeta began. “The other ship completed the jump with us.” He paused looking at his readouts, “Its IFF beacon is active and it started up as soon out ships were able to recognise the beacon.” “And?” “She's the Relentless, Battlestar Group Thirty Nine.” “Understood Mr Gaeta.” Bill sighed. “It worked Saul.” “I noticed.” His exec said., “Our FTL drives show some strain but no more than a couple of quick jumps would have shown. We jumped thousands of light years using one set of co-ordinates Bill. That's supposed to be impossible.” “It seems we were wrong.” Now Adama sighed, “They could jump right within our defences and we'd never know they were coming. Something tells me you are gonna remind me of this in the future.” “Why the frak did the government send us out there? Waste, waste and more frakking waste." Saul replied. “So what now?” “Now we get back to Caprica and get these people home,” Adama said. “Ensign Gaeta.” “Sir.” “Did the Tau'ri programming at any time come into contact with the main computers?” “No Sir, the entire program was entered by hand.” Gaeta looked at his screens, “The Co-ordinate strings were as basic as they could be made, and the original is under lock in the armoury. I took the liberty of having it isolated in one of the empty warhead lockers, as far as we can tell there’s no transmission coming from it.” “Good, input jump information and get us to the Caprica Quarantine grid.” Bill ordered. “Stand down all offensive stations and secure the weapons to manual control. I don’t want to risk a Cylon type take over.” “Think they could have sent someone across when we were in their space?” “O’Neill had me taken off this ship with an energy beam, Saul. They could have put anyone on board and we’d never know about it.” Adama looked up at the DRADIS screen. “They could throw us back in as a ‘Honorious bluff’.” “That woulda worked with some of the other ships Bill, but this thing had its networks axed as soon as you came on board. The crap the Cylons pulled with the Honourious won’t happen here.” “Probably, but I saw that ship and I’m damned if I’m going to let that happen again,” Tigh smirked. “But why bother, they could have just taken us prisoner and rammed this thing into Caprica station filled with those frakking nukes of theirs.” “Honorious Bluff, sir?” One junior officer asked. “The Battlecruiser Honourious was boarded four years into the war and then released,” Gaeta told the officer. “The ship was returned to Picon Anchorage with crew still aboard and as soon as they were close enough to the shipyards the entire ship’s missile and main batteries came online. Nukes and cannons shattered every ship and station in range before the Battlestars assigned there destroyed it. Nine cruisers and escorts were lost as were three of the Battlestar scale drydocks, their crews and the crew of the Honorious itself were killed to a man. When the search and rescue crews got aboard the wreckage they found out why.” “The crews had been tortured and physically nailed into their chairs so we would pick up their life signs but there was no way to stop the ship. Others had been dismembered and left on the floor with their wounds burnt shut to keep them alive but at their positions. That was the last time during that war that any networked weapons were used. Everything from then on were manually controlled.” Adama replied, “I was on the original Anchorage at the time, the devastation was unbelievable.” Shaking himself from his memories, Adama ordered the ship to condition two bringing everyone back to attentions and within moments all sections had followed his orders. Both Colonial warships turned slowly pointing their noses towards the mass of stars that made up the inner part of their home sector, three stars mutually orbiting the others. Power pumped through the massive ships’ conduits sending them hurtling back towards its home anchorage. – Caprica. Caprica Defence Command Station Caprican Orbit Cyrannus System High above the planet of Caprica the Defence Command Station had been designed and built as the ultimate deterrent against an attack by the other colonies. During the Cylon war she had been upgraded then retrofit to prevent the use of her weapons against the world she orbited or the ships that were part of her mobile defence. As the lynchpin of the planet’s defence it was centred above the capital city and the home of the Quorum of Twelve. Tens of thousand of personnel roamed her corridors repairing and refitting what was needed or sitting at their posts awaiting the order to fire at anything that came into their airspace. “Unscheduled FTL Event.” “Condition One.” General Evans shouted across the breadth of his command station. Since the attacks on both Picon and Caprica his command had been on the edge of Condition one at all times. The fact that the Tau’ri could have attacked the Colonies at any time had meant that the defence forces and the fleet proper had been on continuous alert for months on end. Now for the first time they had both the warning and the time to be ready in case this was an attack of some kind. “Status.” “All weapons report ready, automatic point defence cannons are active. Heavy KEWs are tracking the incoming ship, scans are resolving now.” A junior lieutenant called across the room, “IFF is acknowledging one Class Three Battlestar and one Class Five Heavy Cruiser, Identification… that can’t be right.” “What is it?” the General barked. “The IFF for the Battlestar is the Valkyrie, sir.” She looked shocked. “Warbook confirms Valkyrie currently on long duration classified mission. The ship commander is Admiral William Adama. Estimated return should be,” she turned to look at the general, “six weeks from now.” “The other ship?” “Class Five Cruiser, the Relentless Sir.” “The Relentless?” Evans’ eyebrows rose. “Warbook status?” “She was lost in action,” the young woman- Hackett replied. “She was an escort for a Missile Cruiser flight… with Crusade Fleet. Reports say she was crippled and taken prisoner by the Tau’ri a year ago.” “Lock all weapons on those ships.” “Yes, sir!” All across the station’s surface, massive kinetic weapons locked onto the incoming ships. Their multi-ton armour piercing rounds loaded into breaches as the turrets turned towards the suspect signals. A half dozen missile batteries slid open uncapping their warheads both anti ship and anti fighter. Point defence cannons, already targeting the vessels now stood on lock on, their barrels spinning silently in the vacuum. Two ships that otherwise would be welcomed to dock at Caprica’s most powerful and capable space station slid to a stop well inside the station’s optimum weapons range. Wisely, their own weapons were masked and powered down. “Battlestar and Cruiser are not reciprocating target of weaponry, sir their viper bays are dark as are their main weapons,” Hackett said. "Communication bands are active between the two ships. We’re receiving a hail from the Valkyrie, claims to be from Valkyrie Actual, Admiral Adama.” “Divert it to the stand alone communication system, Lieutenant.” “Aye, sir.” Crossing to another set of consoles, Hackett bypassed the security lockouts on the main system and rerouted the communications channels directly into a completely isolated section of the command centre, a throwback from the Cylon war that hadn’t been removed during the refits over the years. More than one admiral had done that to their commands since that conflict even returning parts of their ships to the pre-networked status after their own refits although that was something that was becoming more difficult to do as the newer ships were constructed using fewer and fewer manual systems. The transmission played over the decades old consoles, its stand alone systems forcing the manual input of codes to allow the station’s CO to open the channel. Finally after a few minutes the channel was opened completely. Evans slapped down on the microphones ‘on’ switch and demanded the ship’s identification and authentication codes. Seconds ticked by as the two linked systems threw the information back and forth. “Identification authenticated. Battlestar Valkyrie, Actual is on the horn.” “This is Evans, what the hell are you doing jumping into this zone Adama.” “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” The gravelly voice of the ship’s Commander echoed over the channel. “I need docking permissions for both of our ships and an immediate channel to Intelligence Command.” “Adama you are in violation of jump protocol and you have a frakking heavy cruiser that was lost against Earth. None of you are going anywhere except the quarantine station on the far side of the moons.” “We don’t have the time for that, Evans. We have information needed and requested by the Admiralty and the ship with us is full of survivors from the attack on Earth. Now give me the damned permission or I’ll go over your head straight to Corman.” “Then go to Corman, but you are going nowhere except to Quarantine.” Evans could all but see the Battlestar Commander’s jaw clench as he ground his teeth. Adama and his ship might be a necessary evil but he had to follow the rules like anyone else would, considering the location they claimed to have come from. Three years and a dozen battles against the Cylons had bloodied the General. His paranoia and careful following of the necessary rules made him the ideal man to command the crux of Caprica’s defence systems. The fact that the Army now controlled the near space defences just sweetened the fact. “Understood Caprica Command, request an immediate communication with Admiral Corman’s office as soon as we enter the Quarantine bays. Valkyrie has information vital to the security of the Colonies themselves.” He heard Adama sigh. “This is as important as anything else we have to continue this war, General.” “Nothing is that important Admiral, nothing worth breaking quarantine and blockade for,” Evans replied. “You are more than six weeks ahead of schedule according to your orders, did you even complete you mission?” “I’ll pretend you didn’t just call me a coward, General.” Adama’s voice was heated. “The intelligence we have is that damned important that I’m willing to blow a hole through the defence perimeter to get it to Corman’s office. Now get off your frakking ass and get Corman up here.” “Very well, Adama. We’ll give you the rope to hang yourself with but understand that if you even try to leave the Quarantine Zone then you will be blown out of the sky orders or not. Are you clear on this?” “Completely clear Evans,” Adama growled. “All too clear.” USAF Odyssey Daedalus Class Battlecruiser The Odyssey sat alone as she drifted through the void between stars. The damage sustained against the twin hive ships and their escorts had crippled the warship leading to the evacuation of more than half of the ship’s crew by the other vessels. The remaining crew worked day and night to repair the ship enough to get home. With the approaching Wraith ships there was no way for reinforcements to make it to them in time. Due to the severe depletion of the crew through combat the engineers had been salvaging everything possible to rebuild their systems. Shields and weapons had been scrapped in an attempt to bring the hyperdrive and primary systems on line at the risk of damage to the ship’s main hull. “That’s it, Colonel. The next time we jump the engines will fry.” Doctor Rodney McKay pushed the crystal tray shut. “I’ve rebuilt the scanners to emit a low level subspace field to reduce stress on the hull, stripped out half a dozen circuits from the missile systems and railguns to replace those that burned out in the shield grids. I got them working well enough to get us to actually move without taking micrometeor fragments to the hull. I also managed to close the hanger doors, but they won’t be opening again in a hurry.” “So no fighters and no weapons at all.” “It’s ‘have weapons’ or shields and engines. That’s your choice, Colonel.” “How far can we get?” Pendergast sighed. “As far as we need to but, the second we shut the hyperdrive down, the entire hyperspace array will burn out.” “Shit, nothing else?” Pendergast asked. “I’ve rebuilt a crippled engine from spare parts and half a dozen of those parts aren’t even remotely tied into the engines and wouldn’t be if anyone has any sense, but considering there’s nothing else we can do then I’m going to say that we’re as well off as anyone can be.” “Alright Doctor McKay, calm down.” “I’m as calm as anyone can be after being shot at, locked up, shot again and almost fed on. SHOT AT BY MY OWN SIDE! Then I spent weeks repairing a broken down ship with half its systems destroyed or on the verge of collapse. I’m tired, I’m hungry, I’m pissed off and if I get this wrong, we’re very dead. So, yes I’m as calm as can be expected!” “Understood Doctor, are we ready to go?” “Yes, yes... just input a direct course and we’ll be there within a few hours but the second we drop out of hyperspace….” “I know, I know. Bang goes the engines.” “Now if you’ll excuse me I’m getting some food and some rest before we get back because God knows what I’m going to be asked about when we arrive.” “Thank you, Doctor. We appreciate the help.” “Your people saved us Colonel, just returning the favour,” Rodney muttered. “Now I need a sandwich.” The Canadian Scientist walked down the corridor into the commissary before grabbing a half dozen plates and two cups of coffee, barely noticing as the ship’s PA echoed the countdown to hyperspace behind him. Minutes later, the cranky astrophysicist found himself face down in his pillowed arms; asleep and his food forgotten at his side, as the humming vessel cruised through hyperspace towards home. BBC Newsflash “Reports have come in of the successful arrival of the last of the damaged ships belonging to the fleet that intercepted a group of alien ships two weeks ago. The USAF Odyssey although critically damaged, has been able to make its way back to the solar system with its remaining crew. We go now live to the orbiting defence station where the Daedalus Class vessel has begun docking procedures; Hew Edwards is awaiting confirmation of its condition.” “Thank you. The USAF Odyssey entered Earth space approximately five minutes ago and is currently pulling into dock aboard the Earth Defence Station Alexander. From here we can see that the American warship was struggling to make its way to the station’s main doc. Early indications are that the majority of their propulsion engines are disabled and more than half of the ship’s many operating systems are down. The arrival of the ship was immediately intercepted by her sisters, the Russian starship Korolev and the British ship Ajax. The majority of the crew were transported off of the Odyssey and returned to Earth for medical assistance within moments of their return.” The picture changed to an external view of the station. The Odyssey, burnt, cracked and broken, shuddered to a stop as it’s main engines shut off leaving them drifting towards the former Battlestar turned Battlestation. Small gantries swung out from the armoured pod locking onto the crippled warships sealing it against the fitted umbilicals, pumping air and power into the Odyssey’s hull. Lights flickered off as the last of the indigenous systems shut off leaving the vessel dark. “As you can see by the pictures from the station’s external cameras the Odyssey was badly damaged by an attack that saved the lives of the crew of the allied Battlestar New Horizon and early indications from the ship’s remaining crew is that the warship should be salvageable. The names of the lost crew have been withheld until the families of the lost crew give their permission for their release.” The scene changed one again as pre-recorded film replaced the damaged ship. The Odyssey was seen firing at Colonial ships leading the charge against the far larger ships while other ships followed them in. A cut to missions to other worlds and other battles where the Earth ships took down enemy vessels en masse including footage of the Wraith ship firing on the disabled Battlestar before the far smaller Daedalus took the brunt of the impact. The last footage was a beauty shot of the vessel taking off from its underground cradle in Arizona. Non-classified film of the interior of the ship and its crew were shown repairing damage caused to the ship in one battle or another. “The last of the crew headed by the ship’s American Commander Colonel Lionel Pendergast and temporary chief engineer Canadian Astrophysicist Doctor Rodney McKay both attached to the Earth Defence Force and the Office of Homeworld Security respectively have managed to jury rig their propulsion system to bring them back home. Indications are that entire engine system shorted out and imploded once the vessel arrived back in the sol system” To the side of the screen two photos of the named men appeared with their names and positions. “Damage caused to the ship had led to the vessel’s incapacitation and the forced abandonment by three quarters of the crew to the accompanying ships of the attack group. Released documents by Earth fleet command has expressed the relief of their fellow ship crews at the return of the Odyssey, its remaining crew as well as the scientists and engineers ferried to the Odyssey in its time of crisis.” “The survivors of the crew will be kept under observation by the medical teams already aboard Alexander before being allowed to return home. The Odyssey however even with the damage accumulated during its all too brief tour of duty will be returned to the surface of the planet to undergo a complete rebuild and upgrade. This is Hew Edwards BBC News, Defence Station Alexander.” *** “They made it back.” Jack O’Neill looked across at his XO. “The Odyssey has lost its main hyperdrive systems. The entire ship will have to be stripped and rebuilt. “It’ll put back the construction of the rest of the Daedalus class if we do. Three ships are near completion and the supplies used to repair the Odyssey will need diverting from them.” Davis sighed. “But putting the Odyssey back together will be a morale boost to the rest of the fleet.” “Considering the state of the fleet’s morale when the IOA screwed us….” The General let the sentence hang. The Odyssey’s return while fortuitous meant that the IOA would demand that the wolf pack begin attacks immediately. For most of them a ship returned was a ship that the fleet could use and damn the fact that it was in worse condition than any of the rest were. The return to duty of the rest of the fleet had already improved their standing and then some. But with another sixteen ships being deployed elsewhere as soon as they were ready had angered the fleet; their commanders and the entire defence set up for the planet, and the politicians weren’t listening. “So do we rebuild her or finish the three ships we have almost ready?” “I gotta make a call.” British Naval Fleet Yards Prometheus Class Dockyard Falkland Islands South Atlantic. Commodore William Franks sat in his office sorting through the myriad of reports that his position inevitably had foist upon him. For several hours he had been comparing and rewriting orders to keep the production of the Royal Navy’s fledgling space fleet going. With the slight glut in control crystals and computer systems because of the overproduction by the Americans he had been able to keep the two prototypes schedule on time and without too many problems. The earlier problem of the inferior hull plating had plagued the production of these ships as well, forcing him to have them recast What he wasn’t expecting was for a three dimensional hologram of one of his few superior officers to appear in front of his desk. He grimaced slightly as he slammed his knee into the side of his desk. “So much for the irrepressible British upper lip, Bill.” “How many times did the Asgard do that to you before you got used to it Jack?” “Now, now. I’m here on a mission.” “Very well, how can I help you. Lieutenant General?” “Ok, not that Formal.” “Alright, General O’Neill.” “Dammit, Bill. Fine - Jack, just Jack.” “Very well, Jack.” “Forget it, just forget it.” O’Neill looked up realising he’d been played, “Hammond?” “Yep.” “Smart old man.” Jack smirked. “I need a favour, Bill.”” “Not a penny.” “Haha,” Jack deadpanned. “The Odyssey arrived back earlier on today and, well to be honest, she’s a mess.” “I saw. The Crucible sent out a full download of everything that’s in pieces. I’m surprised she’s still running.” “Yeah, about that.” Franks sighed again. If things weren’t bad enough he could already guess what they needed from the Royal Navy and if things went the way they had been then O’Neill and the fleet commanders would get what they wanted. “When?” “As soon as we get her groundside.” “The Daedalus Dock is empty here as we’ve finished resupplying the Ajax and haven’t begun the construction of the Renown.” Franks called up a list. “The majority of what was needed for the Exeter is already on station. Sir, as much as you are head of Homeworld Security, I will have to clear this with the Prime Minister and the Naval Chiefs back home.” “Yeah, I know. But hey, at least you get a warning usually someone just up and tell us to do it.” “True enough,” Franks said. “Poker on Friday?” “Got the beer?” “Yep.” “Then we’re on.” ******
Ash's Boomstick. CH_20a -.DeepSpace-_ Helena&Chief, Goa'uldship, Tests; Jack&Sam, Hammond RIP, Refits, McKay&Rodney, Grogan Had to open a new thread as thread five is basically ended at 500 posts. Chapter 20 Battlestar Pegasus Mercury Class Battlestar Deep Space Helena Cain was not pleased with the lack of progress that her crew were having with the newly discovered alien ship. More than a fortnight had passed and yet nothing of substance seemed to have been garnered from the craft. Stepping into the makeshift hanger, the Admiral walked across the dented and scarred deck plates several of which were still being hammered and welded back into position. “Chief?” "Admiral." The deck chief looked up from her work. Dressed in the usual orange engineer jump suit and boots Teresa Hamilton was the head of the remaining hanger bay knuckle-draggers. “Report.” “We’ve begun testing on the material that the alien ship’s made of but… well whatever its made of it’s stronger than most of the stuff we use to armour our raptors and assault ships.” Cain frowned at the technicians words who continued on unworried at her commander’s thoughts. “We can cut parts off easy enough but it takes cutters and drill bits six times longer than the titanium alloys we use. I’ve lost three tipped bits and burnt out a plasma cutter trying to get a piece off to analyse properly.” “It’s that heavy?” “It’s not heavy it’s just damned strong. A hundred times that of basic steel, ten times that of the same thickness of battlestar armour. I’m willing to bet this is the same alloy that the Thirteeners use to cover their ships, if not build the entire things out of it." She gestured to the wall. "We took that piece down to the range, emptied everything we have into it at close range and nothing. A Cylon phalanx would go down under the punishment this one piece took." Two pieces of metal were hung suspended from the rafters one was the familiar dull colour of a Raptor hull while the other was the slightly brighter and pitted hull of the alien ship. The Raptor plate was cracked and bent as evidence of the incredible amount of punishment that the metal had gone through. The other piece was scorched and slightly bent but was otherwise completely intact. Approaching the plate Cain pulled a knife from her pocket before flipping it open. Tapping the metal with the edge of her knife, Cain listened as it rang slightly. The piece was incredibly thin for the damage it had supposedly taken. It more than explained why the Tau’ri were able to fend off attacks on their ships so easily even without their shielding. If the Prometheus had been made of the same alloys then it was no wonder that an entire battlestar group had been unable to hold her. If they could somehow manage to engineer the metal themselves then the Tau’ri would find their battlestars more than a threat even against their shields and energy weapons. Now they needed to find out what the rest of the ship was made of and how she could use it for her own purposes. “Can we replicate it?” “To be honest, I don’t know what it’s made of and without access to proper facilities back home, there’s no way for us to figure it out. The same goes for everything else we’ve seen, computers run by crystals. We can’t find a fuel source except what seems to be a block of black metal in their reactor. Those bombs we found are dead or unpowered. The cannons were scavenged to the extent that I can’t make heads or tails of what goes where.” “Anything else?” “Well, we’ve now got some indication of their FTL and sublight engines. Neither is what we would call an engine in our terms. The cub light has no emission systems, no combustion chambers and no normal fuel just like the FTL.” “That black block of metal?” she queried. “Both sets of engines seem to run off of whatever that generator is I’m about to test a shaving from the block,” Teresa replied. “Would you care to watch?” “Alright.” Heading across the bay the two women walked up to the far end. A large enclosure had been built into one of the blown out sections. Unable to repair the machine shop that had been there the entire section had been ripped out and replaced by what could only be described as a combination of science lab, repair bay and a mad scientist’s wet dream. At the far end an electrical system was set up surrounded by blast shields; a small sliver of a black material was suspended by cables in the air above the table. “That piece took a point black hit from cannon to break off. It’s even stronger than the hull material and that piece is almost as heavy as that entire table.” “Just how frakking heavy is the entire block?” “It dented the floor when we dropped it out the ship,” the Chief replied. “Alright people, first test, clear the area.” Hitting a switch, the apparatus started up sending energy through the shard of metal. A split second later the output exploded into fragments peppering the safety perimeter and causing the technicians to hit the deck. An emergency cut off separated the power cables from the small generator on the ground. “What in the gods’ name was that?” Cain demanded. “I don’t know, sir. I’ve never seen anything like that.” The Chief carefully moved across the perimeter looking through the blast shields into the testing area. Pieces of the equipment were scattered throughout the room. Electrical burns dotted the plastic and metal screens with blown components smashed against the walls. “Chief, we had a reading for about half a second before it went up.” “What was it?” “Three Thousand.” “What?” “Chief?” “Sir, we put thirty into the damn thing it sent back out one hundred times what was put in.” Teresa shook. “That should be impossible.” “A hundred times?” “Yes, sir. The calibration for the equipment could have taken the full brunt of a viper’s energy output if put through slow enough. That shard blew the settings out the window. That block could run this entire ship and then some Admiral.” Cain was astounded by the pure power that such a small amount of the material could deliver with a small jolt. Any higher and there would have been pieces of the bulkhead scorched by the energy burst. If this was the same material that the Thirteeners ran their ships on then it explained the speeds that they could attain not to mention those powerful energy fields that had stopped their nukes dead. “Sir, we need to get this stuff back to the Colonies. They have to know what we’ve found.” “I know,” Cain replied. “Chief if we used this material in our FTL would it work?” “Admiral, I don’t know. A small amount could theoretically run our FTL drives but there wouldn’t be any need as we run the power up as fast as the coils can absorb it. It’s why we don’t use anything more powerful to run the main engines, there’s just no need,” Teresa replied. “Right now it could be useful if we wanted to overpower our main cannons or to increase our sublight speed, but that’s it.” Cain frowned at the news but it had been a long shot and one she knew might not have worked. “Alright chief, get back to the engines. I’m going to order multiple long range FTL jumps. It’s time we went home.” ***** Personal Quarters-Officer Commanding 'The Crucible'-Homeworld Security Command Centre Nevada It took a while but Jack had finally managed to get a break away from the conferences, meetings, and briefings that took up his time throughout the days at The Crucible. Material for warships had become scarce yet again as the commissioning of more ships into the fleet. Personnel issues for once, were the least of his problems. One request had been to allow the local 'defence ships' otherwise known as his entire Daedalus fleet, to scrape up debris from near Earth orbit. Several of the bigger brains in planetary defence structure had informed him of the billions of tons of material that were drifting around near Earth orbit. Given he was directly responsible for two of the three battles that had left the stuff up there he had figured that he could at least get rid of the debris before it caused any real problems, more materials meant more chances of getting the fleet up and running. He’d order someone at the shipyards or R&D to figure something out tomorrow, that out of his mind Jack had turned over in his bed and dozed off. Jack O’Neill had usually been a happy sleeper, his time away from work or combat usually lead to him passing out on the sofa or the bed depending how much he could be bothered to walk to the bedroom. After the last few days Jack had taken a well deserved day off to recover from the visits to the solar system from a hive ship and a Colonial Battlestar both of which had been expected but were more than slightly strange for the people involved. This was the reason why the ringing phone six inches from his head next to the couch soured his mood. Waking him from a very nice dream involving beaches, tequila and half dozen women in different attires was not a welcomed thing. He was though slightly disturbed to realise his subconscious had decided one would be dressed as a Nox in a cloth sack. Groaning, he pulled the handset from the receiver. “Sir?” the voice came from the phone in his hand. O’Neill scrubbed his face with his hand before looking over at the clock on the wall, squinting against the light of the digital numbers he groaned and lay back down. “Carter, its four AM on my very wanted single day off in the last six months. There better be a damn good reason why I’m not still asleep.” “You might want to sit down, sir.” “I’m lying down on my couch Carter.” O’Neill’s fatigue began to ebb away at the tone of his former XO. "What's going on?" “I just got a call from the SGC.” She hesitated. “Sir… Jack, General Hammond passed away last night.” “What?” He shot up from his reclined position. “When?” “He was visiting his grandkids at the Springs and they all found him this morning. He had a heart attack last night in his sleep. He didn’t wake up.” Sam Carter’s voice hitched slightly. “They contacted the SGC because I’m down here helping with the new Gate protocols. His daughter wanted to get hold of you but couldn’t get through to the Crucible.” “Alright, I’ll be down there as soon as I can. What about…” “Daniel and Teal’c are both offworld at Chulak and Tollana. I’ve sent messages to both to come back as soon as possible. Both Jonas and Cassie are on base anyway. General Landry has already informed the SGC and off world bases. It’ll be in the news tomorrow morning.” “Ok, I’ll be there soon, Sam.” “Please Jack, hurry.” ***** Earth Defence Station Hannibal Formally Colonial Battlestar War Hawk Lunar Orbit The loading docks were filled almost beyond capacity as forklifts and trucks dashed to and fro, dropping tons upon tons of material into the cavernous bays of the former Colonial warship. Supplies, ammunition, weapons and equipment, in fact anything that could be donated or acquired by the IOA was being stacked and tied down in amounts that would choke an entire armoured division. With the changes in doctrine by the IOA in regards to the deployment and use of ground forces assigned to the space-going arm of the defence forces, the combined militaries had begun training their special ops groups as motorised infantry, but only to a certain extent. That extent included the use of jeeps and Humvees from the United States, Land Rovers and Warrior APCs from the United Kingdom and a number of motorcycles from the Japanese Self-Defence Force. Those units that had not been deployed for use by Stargate Command, and the Icarus and her sisters were now being transferred to Atlantis as the core of its new recon groups. Seventy men of the new military contingent would be placed there purely for mounted reconnaissance allowing follow up teams of diplomats, scientists and traders to meet with the other cultures that they might find. Once the militaries of the world realised the fact that they would either use the Stargate (for those in the know) or the warships (for those that didn’t) for exploration, they would learn that a few men on foot was not the greatest of ideas. So with the safety and time frames of their trips in mind, most decided to refit a few vehicles for offworld use. Most vehicles were now equipped with a micro-naquada generator to replace their engines, built using a very small amount of the precious super-conductive material left over from construction of the warships. Due to the fact that it was built to move a small vehicle and its contents it wasn’t as large or as powerful as the Mk 1 and 2 generators used for dialling Stargates. Of course, the problem was usually that this usually caused the SG teams to get into even more trouble than they usually did and far more quickly. A flash of light appeared at the receiving point for the supplies coming directly from Earth deposited there from the Asgard transporter. One figure of two 28 looked placid and calm, whilst the other looked harried and flustered. “That was it sixteen hours. That’s all the sleep you gave me. I spend two weeks keeping that damn ship together and before that a week as a prisoner of the Wraith and before that two damned years keeping that floating death-trap from killing everyone aboard. You could at least have given me a couple of days before pulling me back to whatever hair-brained scheme that you people have…" McKay’s ramble stopped as he looked around. “That’s a lot of supplies.” Carl Grogan formerly of Stargate Command walked alongside the cranky physicist. Somehow he’d drawn the short straw in dealing with Rodney McKay. He already suspected it was because of his experience dealing with slightly ego driven scientists combined with the fact that he alone among the former SG team members heading for Atlantis could actually talk to people like McKay and not want to shoot him on sight. “We’re sending this ship and as much as we can fit inside it to Atlantis. Originally we were going to use one of their destroyers, but we’ve decided to use one of their mid sized Class Three Olympia Class battlestars instead,” the young officer replied. “Class Three?” “We know that Atlantis is a little out of the loop at the moment but we’re sending all the Intel and information that we have with this ship. She’s been refit with surplus shield generators, new inertial dampners and improved the armament with those new Lucifer rounds and a lot more naquada enhanced nukes.” Grogan looked over the supplies as they walked. “She was designated as another one of the defence stations for Earth, but we’ve managed to persuade the IOA to equip her and send her to Atlantis instead,” His escort replied. “She’s a little over a kilometre long and armed with a lot of state of the art weaponry. We’re carrying almost three quarters of the available ammo for the fleet on this trip.” “The shielding and dampeners should keep her from falling apart when we get her into hyperspace, but she’s not going to be able to get there herself anytime soon,” Rodney said. “I’ve seen specs on their FTL drive and even with the best computers we have, there’s no way to jump her across to Pegasus with her current fuel load. The Daedalus won’t be able to pull her along on her own.” “She won’t be. The O’Neill is pulling both the Daedalus and Hannibal to Pegasus when we’re ready.” “Why the hell didn’t they do that last year when we needed the help?” “The war with the replicators mainly, looking after the PPT planets as well.” “Why the Daedalus?” “Some of the people of Atlantis are being recalled back home. Others of their crew are being transferred to the new base we’re building. They’re also dropping off their entire air wing and the contents of their own supply bunkers and anything else we could drop in. Some of the crew of the Hannibal are also coming back so we’re using one of our ships to bring them home when the Asgard leave.” “So what have we got on board?” “The Hannibal is armed and nasty enough to take on a couple of Wraith Cruisers and eat a Ha’tak for desert. She’s carrying its crew and fighter compliment, reinforcements for the 302 wing on Atlantis aboard the Daedalus and more troops and scientists to help with the exploration of the city. She also be carrying a half dozen exploration teams and the new recon section.” “Great, more newbies.” “Yeah, the recon section seems to be working on board the ship. A bunch of guys on bikes and jeeps riding through the gate will get out further than we ever could on foot. I’m leading one of the teams when we get out there.” Heading into the former hanger bay proper Rodney began to mentally catalogue everything that they passed through. Tons of food and beverages of all kinds were spread out left to right, up and down stretching hundreds or meters across and dozens to the rafters of the vessel. Rodney frowned at the sight of the still intact viper tubes. Surely they should have been ripped out and the hull sealed against the outside like the Alexander’s had been. Turning back, he watched as more vehicles and equipment were strapped down underneath the towering boxes and containers above. He nodded approvingly as he stared at some of the smaller recon vehicles. “Less walking on the other side of the gate at least,” he mused. “Why the hell do we still have those fighter tubes there? The Alexander had hers ripped out for ammunition storage.” “The Viper tubes? Well, that’s something that one of the engineers on the 302’s R&D group came up with; we’re carrying two full squadrons of refitted Colonial fighters for delivery to Atlantis as well.” “What why are we doing that?” “Couple of reasons Doc. They are fast, close range fighters and can out turn anything the Wraith can hit us with. Since they have better guns than the old 302s and we don’t have to pay for them. Best of all, they fit through the stargate so we can send them ahead of those puddle jumpers you got. Well, those that you got left anyway." “Yes I remember. Half the remaining jumpers are sitting at Antarctica.” “Most are going back on the Daedalus.” “Good for us,” McKay snared. “So air support and vehicles going through the gate; brilliant ideas a few years too damned late.” “It’s worse than that.” “What is?” “There’s a British TV show that wants to try out our new vehicles off planet.” “You’re joking.” “Not this time, Doctor McKay.” Grogan shook his head. “The IOA might even be considering it as a PR move to get people on our side. The American and British ambassadors are huge fans of the series. Even General O’Neill likes what they do.” “That is a very bad idea.” Rodney changed the subject. "The supplies, how much are we looking at here?" “You guys got what three hundred people on Atlantis at the moment?” Grogan asked. At Rodney’s nod he continued. “We’ve got five hundred more coming on the battle station not including the crew of the ship which numbers almost two thousand. The supplies in these pods are enough for a thousand people on planet for three years and the Hannibal carries its own supplies which will last about the same amount of time. Hell, Doctor Jackson and Colonel Carter grabbed one of the main cargo bays and filled it to the max with coffee and tea.” “Coffee,” Rodney’s eyes widened. “Yep and a load of plants. They’re building a base on the mainland for the recon teams and the rest of the people who don’t want to stay on the city. The crew of the Hannibal we’ll need somewhere to stay as well.” “Who came up with all of this?” Rodney asked as his eyes widened at what couldn’t have been less than a full metric ton of Hershey bars and God knows how many corn puffs. Three year’s worth? “People will try to get through that in three weeks let alone years. The supplies they got from the two monthly runs from the Daedalus was barely enough but the size of this battlestar. The supplies you people are fitting in must be immense.” “Every country with people involved in the IOA, or Atlantis threw in a budgetary requirement for their people and more. Besides, to be honest Doc, the IOA tried to get the donations diverted into construction of the planetary defences and have Atlantis survive on normal rations.” He gestured to the MRE ration packs that took up an entire section of the hanger bay. “General O’Neill had them served nothing but MREs for a week before they finally gave up.” “Cruel and unusual punishment.” That thought made McKay smirk. One thing he loved were with those MRE ration packs. Well, he wasn’t like most people anyway. “Just don’t tell the press someone will try to call him up on war crimes for it.” Grogan and McKay continued walking through the massive bay towards the far end, passing by dozens of crewmen pushing or pulling boxes, pallets and sacks into huge cages latched to the walls. Machine shops and supply bunkers for the ship’s original fighter compliment had been filled to capacity and sealed. Stepping around a corner Rodney was forced to roll himself away from a bustling crowd of crewmembers fussing over an injured man on a gurney. A younger blonde woman almost fell over him causing McKay to grab her before she hit the floor. Quickly saying thanks, she smiled up at him as they passed by before disappearing around the corner. McKay blinked slightly before shaking his head and continuing on ignoring the smirking Captain. “So what exactly are we getting?” McKay asked again attempting to mask his embarrassment with pseudo-irritation. “Well, apart from what you know a load of new science equipment. A new mainframe system that should be compatible with the Atlantis system at least according to my wife anyway. Then we’ve got those Naquada reactors someone ripped out of the Prometheus and replaced with something better. More weapons and explosive including an Mk9 warhead as a self – destruct for the city.” “ARE THEY CRAZY?” shouted Rodney. “Putting one of those things in the city is bad news for everyone involved. I helped design the damn thing and we are not putting it in the city. Hell, putting one in orbit would make me think twice about going near Atlantis.” “Orders are orders.” “And which psychotic dictator with delusions of grandeur decided that putting a multi hundred gigaton warhead in an ancient city was every a good idea?” “It was General O’Neill’s idea. He figured we needed to blow the crap out of the city instead of letting anyone else get at it.” “I’m not in the slightest bit surprised at that,” McKay sighed. “So people, weapons, food, drink, medical supplies, vehicles and a big ass warship to defend the city. Wait! What reactors?” “The Prometheus had hers pulled during the last refit and replaced with something better. No-one could figure out what to do with it so it’s going to Atlantis. Someone’s gonna plug it into the city,” the young captain replied. “Well, that someone probably being my wife.” “Who the hell is your wife anyway?” “Captain Jennifer Haley, sir.” “Tiny, blonde, ego, skin of a rhino hide?” “That’s her, sir.” “Huh, a mini-Sam if ever there was one.” “Better not let her hear you say that, Doctor McKay. Someone on SG-6 said that in hearing range and it took them a week to find his records. A week in the SGC’s brig isn’t something anyone would recommend,” Grogan smirked. “Apart from that, we’ve rebuilt this thing to produce spares for both its own hull and the fighters. We’d have used one of their really big ships but we didn’t have the time to fix her up.” “Better than nothing,” Rodney said. With the space that might still be available he’d be able to use his not too inconsiderable fortune to bring a few things he really wanted from home with him. Time away from home meant that most of the people of the expedition had a nice sized nest egg. A few patents and papers had been discreetly added to his own and in ever increasing amounts. “How much stuff can the staff members take with them?” “Its gonna be three years until we can get anyone else out there, Doc. They’ve pretty much said bring what you like. I’m bringing my dogs as well. Hell I’m living on the mainland with most of the rest of the recon teams.” “Animals?” “Pets mainly but I think… hey, Dennis.” He waved over the closest of the techs. “Grogan, what’s up?” the man with the accent asked. “Dennis, Doctor Rodney McKay. Doc, this is Dennis Kruger.” “Nice ta meet ya, boss.” Dennis’s South African accent was slightly more pronounced this time. “What can I do fur’ ya.” “Animals, we still taking them?” “What? the pets or the farm stock?” “Both.” “Well a shitload of pets are going with us but the majority o’ the livestock are cows, chickens and the like. We’ve got crops and feed for them as well. We’re going to try to get a real colony going on the Lantana mainland.” Kruger shrugged. “Horses as well, we’re gonna try to introduce some local animals to Pegasus and see if they take.” “So animals for breeding and fresh food.” “Three years is a long time to live on processed and packaged crap boss.” “I like that packaged crap,” McKay replied getting annoyed. “I…” “Captain Grogan to the CIC, Doctor McKay to the CIC, Warrant Officer Siler to the CIC,” the Tannoy interrupted. “Now what?” Rodney grumbled. *****
Ash's Boomstick. CH_20b -.EDS Hannibal-_ Siler&Rodney, Daniel&Telford, Narim, Bra'tac&Teal'c, Thor; TF Minotaur; Prime&Queen; Davis&McClusky Combat Information Centre EDS Hannibal “Captain, Doctor.” Siler nodded to the two men as he met them on the way through the corridors. The ship whilst being heavily modified still had the look and feel both inside and out of being a Colonial fleet vessel. The entire craft had been cleaned and decontaminated by the combined efforts of several dozen agencies worldwide in order to make it habitable for the new crew. This crew would be a combination of Colonial defectors plus Earth-borne humans which would make up the majority of said crew. The majority of the modifications to the Hannibal had been to the main systems to enhance the ability of the ship to fight off attacks from the local races of the Milky Way and Pegasus Galaxies. Little thought had been given to the internal ascetics of the battlestar-turned station. Unsurprisingly it left the entire place looking bare and functional, if battered and used looking. Some of the more esoteric ideas such as glass panelling on the bridge doors had been replaced with heavy metallic plating, while the majority of the controls had been replaced with backwards compatible screen and equipment tying it into the less capable but robust Colonial systems. Walking into the CIC, the three SGC personnel were intercepted by the ship‘s commander. Gesturing across to the other side of the room he had them move into an alcove specially set up with a long range subspace communication screen courtesy of the Asgard. “Sam?” Rodney exclaimed as her face came on the screen only a second before the look on it became apparent. “What is it? What’s happened?” “The SGC just got a message from General Hammond’s daughter. He died late last night.” The silence was deafening as the import of those words made it into the minds of the three men. All had been at the SGC during his time in command and all three thought very highly of the Texan. Siler had been there since the beginning and while he had been through five commanding officers in his time with Stargate Command he thought of Hammond as ‘the General’ and not simply another ranking officer. “What happened?” “He had a heart attack in his sleep Siler. We’re contacting every ship, station and outpost in Homeworld Security. The funeral will be held in Washington within the week. We’ll be keeping the Daedalus and Hannibal in orbit until afterwards.” “Has anyone told Atlantis yet?” Rodney asked. “No not yet. I thought you might prefer to do that Rodney. Most of the SGC personnel there served under the General at one time or another.” “I will.” “Anything I can do, sir?” Grogan asked. “Notify the commander of the Hannibal and ask him to inform his crew. There will be a full day of mourning for the general starting at 12:00 hours. Rodney, I’d like you and Grogan down here as soon as possible. We have work to do.” “We’ll be down in a few minutes,” Rodney said as the message ended. “Shit.” “I don’t believe it.” Siler responded, “General Hammond.” “I guess it was just his time. I always thought one of us would go first. No offence guys, I meant my SG team.” “None taken,” Siler nodded. “I thought I’d be gone long before he was.” “I guess I better get down to the SGC. There’s a lot of people on the city that will want to know about this.” Rodney shrugged, “a lot of extremely upset people.” ***** Survivor Enclave Tollana “All that I know is that a great many enclaves do still exist on this world, while the civilised areas containing much of our population were destroyed from orbit there were smaller towns and villages scattered across the surface. Survivors were able to find their way to those places and hide from any possible follow up using ground forces, we were fortunate that Anubis did not deem it necessary to hunt us down merely to make us all but incapable of living after the fact.” “There were more than twenty million people here. How many survived?” “That I know of? Close to one hundred thousand possibly more probably less…” The two old acquaintances had continued to talk for a substantial amount of time after meeting again. It had been more than five years. The Icarus had already begun treating the survivors they had found for easily treatable conditions and illnesses at any other time. Others would have to be diverted to an offworld site where Red Cross teams would be awaiting them. The emergency signal to the SGC had caused the immediate dispatch of an Apollo complete with a salvaged Stargate taken from one of the dead worlds that the SGC had found. Both had continued talking as Narim was being treated by the onboard chief medical officer and his staff. In the light of the sick bay his wounds looked even more painful and disfiguring. The last of the ruling council of the Tollan Narim was something of a celebrity among those that had been with the SGC before. To the rest he was an ambassador and as such given the rights and dues of his rank. “… Then of course, we were finally able to send a ship to Tollana to check out what had happened, we weren’t expecting to find any kind of survivors let alone as many as we have. To tell the truth some of the politicians we have in the top positions tried to get the mission cancelled The relief missions we’re running on our own world has forced us to stop any assistance to other worlds as it is.” “Doctor Jackson,” Lt. Colonel Telford interrupted the two as he strode into the room, nodding slightly to the Tollan as he approached. “Mr Narim.” “Colonel Telford, good to see you.” “Colonel, what can we do for you?” “The bridge just picked up a transmission from Stargate Command with a priority tag direct from the office of General Carter.” “Samantha?” Narim whispered surprised. “General?” “Yeah she’s still with us. As I said a lot has changed in the last few years.” Daniel read the message in his hands. It only took a few seconds before the blood ran out of his face leaving him pale and wan. He handed the message to the Tollan before looking at Telford. “When did this come in?” “About ten minutes ago.” Narim’s eyes closed as he read the message. “This is an unfortunate case of affairs. General Hammond was a good and fair man. We owed him much after his willingness to put his people and his own career in the line of fire during our years as friends. I would like to come back with you to Earth to pay my respects as well as to attain aid for the people that still live.” “Are you sure, Narim?” Daniel asked. “Yes, my people will be able to look after themselves more so now that we know that there is help coming. It’s my wish to come with you.” “Colonel?” “I’ll talk to Colonel Young and let you know.” ***** Capital City Chulak Free Jaffa Nation “Tak’ma’te, Master Teal’c Master Bra’tac.” “Tak’Me’Te, CaptainHaley.” Teal’c bowed slightly at the approaching diminutive blonde. No one had been expected to arrive from Earth for several more days let alone a single officer without a weapon or the normal offworld pack. “What brings you to our world?” “I have a message from Colonel Carter.” The young officer’s voice was steady betraying her body’s slight twitch, a combination of slight dread, anxiety and sadness that radiated from her in waves. “It regards General Hammond.” “Then please speak child.” Bra’tac urged. “They… the SGC….” Haley took a deep breath. “General Hammond died last night at his daughter’s house in the Springs. He had a heart attack and died in his sleep.” “This is most troublesome,” The Jaffa elder replied. “Hammond of Texas was a great warrior. We will return as soon as possible.” “Indeed, he was a good man and commander.” He turned to Haley. “Thank you for the message CaptainHaley we will both make the necessary plans to return to Earth, we should not be more than a few hours.” “Do you want me to wait?” she asked. “That would be gracious of you young one,” nodded Bre’tac. We shall take your leave and meet you at the Stargate in two hours.” “Yes, sir,” Jennifer smiled weakly. “I’ll be there.” ***** Asgard Council Chambers Orilla Ida Galaxy. “Hello, is this thing on?” “O’Neill.” A voice came from behind the hologram. “The Asgard communication system is a delicate device that can pick up far more than any comparable technology, it is as you put it ‘on’.” “Oh, well I know that it’s a very expensive and advanced toy and that I promised not to use it unless absolutely necessary.” “O’Neill, is there a reason for this communication?” The Asgardian Commander interrupted. “Uhh, yeah. I don’t know if your guys here have been scanning our transmission or anything but well…” Jack prevaricated. “George Hammond died last night. People who we think need to know are being told as we speak. We’ve contacted several of our off world allies as well as a bunch of our own people and well you are the last to know. Not because we thought of you last but Carter wasn’t sure we should use the communications device to bug you, not with your entire race going to sleep.” “I appreciate the thought O’Neill. There is little we could have done to cease his demise but had I been there I would have tried.” “It’s not that old buddy. We told you because you’re a friend and you knew George as well as most of us. We thought you would want to know.” “I am gratified that you have such faith in me, O’Neill. I am unable to get away from Orilla for some time but my thoughts will be with him and yourself.” “Thanks Thor, I better go. We’ve got stuff to do before the funeral.” “Goodbye, O’Neill.” “See ya.” ***** Heavy Cruiser Hephaestus Task Force Minotaur In orbit of Planet Helo. *… all ships are to return to Cyrannus Sector borders immediately, all previous orders are to be overridden and ignored. Task Force Minotaur, all ships are to return…* “The signal seems to be genuine, My Queen.” “Then we should not keep them waiting. Order all remaining Jaffa and our brothers and sisters aboard the other ships of the fleet. It is time for us to leave this world behind and find our way elsewhere.” “As you wish, My Queen.” The man bowed to the gaudily clad young woman. The gradual turning and infiltration of the ships of this ‘Colonial’ fleet had been far easier than they had any right for it to be. Only one ship had been in orbit when the attack happened and it was a simple effort to persuade the crew and soldiers aboard this vessel that they had been hit by a Tau’ri force that had found the planet before them. It was odd that such a race had neither inkling of the Chappa’ai, nor the basic tenets of hyperdrives nor shielding, something that even the most foolish of her race knew well. Once they had infiltrated the fleet, several of her children and those already mature enough from their incubators had taken control of the senior officers bringing them under her control, nish’ta and a number of unfortunate ‘accidents’ had taken care of the rest of the crew. One such accident brought the second heavy cruiser and the three remaining frigates alongside to help their ‘crippled’ sister allowing more of their brethren to take over the crews. With all five ships under her total control, the Queen would be able to put her people into Colonial society and work her way up, taking over those that would be of use to her and controlling those unworthy of absorbing. “My Queen,” the first prime knelt in front of her. “Rise beloved and report.” “The last of your Jaffa are leaving the world below as we speak. All technology and resources that were aboard your ship have been salvaged and now sit within the holds of these ships.” The Prime bowed his head refusing to look his Queen in the eyes as was her due. “The main power system was left in place as you commanded. The vessel and all signs of our encampment will be eradicated by an explosion.” “Very good, First Prime.” The Goa’uld smiled benevolently at her slave, red hair cascading down her back as she draped her hand down his face forcing his eyes to meet hers. She was pleased at the depth of reverence and adoration in his half dead eyes. Her work on his mind had been a qualified success. “I will give you alone the honour of destroying what remains of that insignificant wreck.” “I am honoured, My Queen.” “Yes I know.” She turned away. “Proceed with the destruction and then jump us away from this world and to the Colonies. I have a new empire to conquer.” “At once.” A signal from the cruiser activated an overload on the derelict Ha’tak. In less than six second the entire reactor, ship and fifty miles of the planet’s surface were vaporised by the explosive force. The eruption was seen from hit above the planet by the orbiting ships only moments before the five ships disappeared in their own bursts of light sending the ships on a heading back to the Colonies and their destiny. ***** Upper Level Receiving Platform. 'The Crucible' Homeworld Security Command Centre Nevada "You ready for this Paul?" "Not really. I really could have done without this today of all days," Davis replied sorting his tie and cap before picking up his briefcase. "General O'Neill indisposed, the entire defence structure on alert in case Hammond's death sets something off and now the IOA graciously decided to grant me an audience a week later than I needed it." "Good luck, you'll need it." "I'll try my best Sir," Davis saluted Ronson. "Good luck yourself, sir." "I'll try, I relieve you." "I stand relieved," Ronson dropped the salute. "Prometheus this is Black Knight, transport Colonel Davis to IOA HQ." "Yes Sir, defence systems are synchronising with the transport systems at platforms. Stand by." "I really hate this part." Davis sighed as he disappeared into the ether. ***** IOA Headquarters Geneva "Colonel Davis, please follow the usual procedures. Be aware you are being scanned and watched at all times." A voice came from high above. Blinking his eyes from the change in lighting between the two security platforms Paul left the room and headed out into the building proper. The transporter platforms were secure shielded positions that were permanently attuned to each other and the orbiting warships allowing for a transport through the shields of the myriad of major HQs and bases that made up Homeworld Defence Command. Prometheus had been designated by his own hand as the transport ship. Like the other major defence facilities, the IOA Headquarters were heavily shielded and protected from entry meaning that the only way in and out was via the transporter platform or through the emergency evacuation tunnel which led to another local base. While Davis' security clearance would let him into areas even the Heads of State of some countries couldn't get to, he was forced to go through the rigmarole of the council's hubris. Sighing, he went through the usual checks and re-checks of his identity, clearance and orders. The civilians had been more paranoid than NATO, the White House or the Hague, when it came to rebuilding the defences around their HQ building. Apart from the normal layers of security and guards that had been included in the rebuilt exits, entrances and surrounding area the members had demanded the inclusion of a Daedalus class shield and power source for it with a secondary emergency transport station in case the shields failed. They had been forced to accept one of the Prometheus’ older generators; one that had been replaced with a more capable version modified Mk two Naquada Reactor. Currently the only areas with heavier defences were The Crucible, The British Space Defence HQ and the SGC, the latter of which had recently taken control of a number of scaled up plasma cannons and Lucifer equipped long – range rail guns. After almost twenty minutes of checks and another thirty of overly paranoid searches, travelling between sections and navigating the intricately constructed building, Davis finally made it to the main meeting room where he would be addressing the IOA council in their entirety. Setting his best political face he buried his true feelings about the meeting and knocked on the door and awaited the normal games that would be an inevitable part of the day's proceedings. Several minutes passed as he waited mentally while reviewing his notes, the status of the fleet, planetary defences, the newly excavated parts of the outpost and the soon to be opened lunar fighter command station. The doors opened in front of Davis allowing him access to the central annex of the facility. At one end of the room sat a stepped platform where the five permanent members of the IOA council sat. Approaching them, he sat his briefcase on the table in front of him. Plugging a data stick into the computer terminal imbedded in the top he stood at the side and looked to the watching civilian. "Ladies and Gentlemen," he greeted."Thank you for your patience." "Please Colonel Davis. I know that Homeworld Security is under strain at the moment so we'll try to get through this as quickly as possible." The chairman said. "We would like to know why the raider program has been held back. The orders were to launch attacks on the Colonials as soon as possible." "We are trying that, sir. The fleet that is required isn't complete nor are the crews being trained up to speed on the tactics needed for this kind of warfare." Davis pulled out several papers from his briefcase, "The fleet in being at the moment is still undergoing reconstruction and standardisation. Escorts and capital ships are being formed into groups and those groups formed into task forces for defence and reconnaissance. The ships that have been designated for the Raider Project are a large section of the available groups currently in service. In addition they are ill suited for long range assault on the enemy lines." "The Prometheus were designed for attacks on the Goa'uld, they should be fine against the Colonial forces." "Not too much, Sir. While the class was designed for combat against Ha'tak class vessels, they are not designed for sustained combat away from supply lines. The Apollo class are even less so, within a few battles at best the entire group would out of ammunition and low on consumable supplies." "What about the use of the larger ships as tenders. Strip out their fighter components and use them. Your own reports show that the fighters we have are of little use against the numbers that the Colonials are able to bring to bear on our people. The cargo bays should be suitable to keep out ships in the field." Hughes responded. "Possible, sir, but impractical. The rebuild of the Prometheus class ships used would take several months at best putting the timetable you requested even further back." "So what is it you suggest, Colonel?" "Sir, the Prometheus class will not be used for the Raider missions. Each of the countries responsible for the construction of the ships chosen have refused to release them to Homeworld Command considering the risks involved. They will release several Daedalus class to improve the chances of the other ships in the fleet." "That will not happen, Colonel," the Chairman responded. "Every ship of that class will be staying near Earth for its defence." "Sir, the ships of that class belong to the countries responsible for their production and resupply. They are under the auspices of Homeworld Command and not the IOA itself. The Chinese Sun-Tzu, Our own Phoenix and finally United Kingdom's modified Exeter, once she has been completed in a few months time will remain under their respective country’s control. Given the fact that most of the crews for the Apollos have been stripped from those IOA members without the ability to build larger warships they made the request directly to the command staff of both countries." "That is against the regulations as set down when the IOA was formed to oversee the use of any and all space based forces," the British member- McClusky interrupted. "The disposal of the larger ships as a localised defence force was agreed upon by all permanent members of the Council and the command staff at the Crucible. Overriding that agreement is grounds for an investigation of those responsible for as well as those that made said agreement. You do realise this?" "Yes, sir I do. But the agreement only covers those of the original IOA members before the attack by the Colonials. Several earlier treaties have been reactivated and the requests made directly through military channels," Davis replied. "Homeworld Security and the Council were only to be made aware of these agreements if necessary. Both Admiralty House and The People Naval Headquarters informed us yesterday." "We should have been informed immediately," Hughes huffed loudly. "I tried to but I was politely informed that the council was busy and I would have to wait a full week for a emergency briefing," Davis said plainly staring at several of the uneasily shifting council members. "However, our people at the Crucible have developed an idea that should allow us to gather more Intel as well as decent targets for the raider group when we can send them on." "This better be good. Colonel, I've had just about enough with this type of attitude." Davis' years in politics stood him in good stead against the abject bias that several of the council had. Not willing to allow Hughes to get to him, he brought up document that was transferred to the monitors of the IOA members. "As it is Six Prometheus class ships, a host of smaller vessel and the probes needed is simply beyond our logistics capabilities to deploy outside this solar system for any suitable length of time. The constant return to Earth would put a strain on the hyperdrive systems of the Apollo class vessels. Each ship would also require a refit after every trip to and from the Cyrannus system "While it will take several weeks to months to have the fleet ready for launch to the Cyrannus system, we have the ability to deploy some recon assets within the next three days." The monitors activated bringing up a small moon at the very edge of the Cyrannus Sector. "In three days the Prometheus Class Graf Spee will be undergoing her long range shakedown before being deployed to assist the Icarus on her reconnaissance of worlds we have already contacted and subsequently lost contact with over the years." "Like the Tollan world." Lo-Hcin the Chinese Delegate spoke up. "Our reports indicate that a number of survivors and some of their technology are salvageable." "Yes, sir. The Tollan world is about to receive assistance through a Stargate once it arrives. The Graf Spee will also search for a group of ships that survived the attack and managed to escape. It's hoped that the ships managed to get away and are headed towards a friendly world. But after five years we've no clue where they might be." "Very well Colonel, please continue." "The Graf Spee will come out of hyperspace on the very edge of known Colonial Space. Our last few encounters have proved that at range the Colonial scanning equipment can't see our ships or fighters at all. The Spee will deploy a team of engineers using beacons and the Asgard transporter to hollow out a section of a large asteroid to house a purpose built 'duck blind'," Paul continued. "A large construct made up of a highly specialised signal decryption and analysis system, secreted into the asteroid and secured by returning the rock around the blind we will be able to put a team of our best data analysis and retrieval people close to the Cyrannus system without any knowledge that they are there." Paul continued the brief while watching the members of the committee. "The Spee will deliver six high speed low observation probes into the system alongside the remaining two that are in place. For the next few months the teams will intercept translate and send on any information that is deemed necessary or useful to the raider force." "A few months is a long time, Colonel. A lot can change." "Yes ma'am, it could and that's why we need people in the area capable of adapting to the changing demands for information and locations of ships, the local planets and anything else that the probes pick up. A team of nine specialists will be dispatched and then retrieved on four week rotations. Personnel will be replaced and consumables recharged by whichever Prometheus ship is available at the time." "One month doesn't seem much, Colonel." McClusky pushed. "Why not three or six months if all that will be needed is a resupply." "Most of the teams will be made up of personnel that are not usually deployed to active combat areas. Several are in fact civilians that volunteered for this kind of duty. A short term duty is the best compromise between the skills that we need and the risk that they are taking. Most will start to feel under pressure within a few weeks dropping off their efficiency by more than half." Paul looked over the politicians. "Fear of discovery and what that would mean is a very real danger for all the units we're sending in for recon and attack. The fact is we have fewer ships than we want and more missions for them than we can handle." “How will the data be transferred back home?” “The shelter was designed to incorporate a single subspace transmitter on a secure long range channel to the closest major colony or base that we have. With the Cyrannus system within relatively close range the data would be received by Defence Command’s main communications arrays in Australia,” Davis continued. “We removed the idea of adding a Stargate for security reasons and lack of necessity. All food, water and life support will be topped up with each visit.” “And this can be ready within the week, Colonel?” Lo-Hcin asked. “Yes Ma’am. The prototype was to be the headquarters for the search and recovery group on Tollana. With the change in mission parameters the bunker became available. The team can be briefed and assembled before the end of the week and be on the Spee within six days. Considering its distance from the Colonies, the inferior sensor technology that are available to their ships and the use of subspace technology there will be almost an infinitesimal chance that the Colonials will discover the Duck Blind let alone find a way to capture them.” “Then it will be undefended,” the Frenchman scowled. “That seems a little risky.” “If they are discovered then the subspace transmitter will allow us to have a ship there within a hour or so. But if necessary there is a limited shield generator that can be added to the base itself but will take the entire generator output to run it. That will limited life support or the ability to call for help.” “We’ll confer over this Colonel, but I am extremely unhappy with the way that this has been handled by the Crucible and staff of Homeworld Command. Do you understand me?” To his credit and to the chagrin of the other American Paul didn’t flinch nor did he say anything that could put him or his command in any sort of trouble. “Of course sir. Is there anything else that you need to know?” “Nothing. You may leave now, Colonel.” Nodding silently, he took his leave as quickly as decorum allowed. The Air Force officer left the meeting room and headed for the transport platform. The council however stayed where they were until they were sure that they were alone. Moments later Hughes slumped back in his chair seething at the fact that the IOA were once again being given the runaround by the military against their orders. “Well, we knew it was a risk to order the entire Daedalus line to stay around Earth as its defence fleet,” LeClerk said. “There was no way that Homeworld Command would allow that to stand, not when there is a war being waged and especially after O’Neill’s response for our earlier mismanagement of the world’s defences. We may be an oversight committee but we don’t have the authority to demand that countries risk their people on our say so.” “The fact that several countries went around us to talk to the naval commands of our countries seemed a bit much.” McClusky replied to the other man before looking at the others. “As it is within the remit for the Royal, People’s and the United States Navies to withdraw their personnel and their ships if they believe that they can be utilised better. The agreement for a combined command is not set in stone and never has been and given that more than a few countries are talking to Homeworld Security is also a problem.” “Their orders are clear and legal, the IOA are responsible for the oversight of the military forces at our disposal,” Hughes complained. “If we allow the dispatch of three of our biggest and most powerful ships from the defence of this world then we risk serious trouble if any of our enemies find out.” “I found their information quite revealing,” the Russian- Vladikov replied. “The fact that the fleet’s logistics are in the state they are in may mean more than we think. With so many ships in the system, where are the cargo ships, tankers, freighters and tenders that are needed to keep a fleet in action away from our borders?” “With the demand for warships and the speed of the hyperdrive it seemed a waste to construct them,” McClusky replied. “Unless we cut back on the mass production of the Apollos let’s say and retool them into long range tenders then we have nothing that will allow the fleet to stay on station for as long as we wish. This is one thing that the Colonials have on us. They are able to stay on mission for far longer than almost any other ship we’ve seen.” “Maybe exchanging the ships in the Raider formation would be prudent,” the Chinese delegate added. “Six ships, even of the lesser Prometheus class can be in more places than the three larger vessels; however I am unsure as to sending the heavy gunship variant that the British have designated for the mission, Mr McClusky.” “The Royal Navy have a lower number of ships than most of the rest of the fleets under construction. The Exeter while untested is the only ship we have that we can risk sending. Its excess weapons systems in comparison to the bog standard Daedalus will give the Raider group a better chance against the Colonials. In addition the Exeter will be able to carry far more food, water and rail gun supplies then other non– modified ships. Besides it also gives us a proving ground for the new design and whether or not it’s worth building more of them or sticking with the 304 class as is.” “The defence of this world is the primary order for the fleet. The larger ships are the best we have.” “For the moment," he admitted. "But with the numbers of ships that our enemies have, Mr. Hughes, keeping our best ships close by while our enemies begin exploration and exploitation of their local space while we sit here and turn turtle is beyond foolishness.” the Englishman replied. “Currently with a larger number of ships, the ever increasing number of operational ground and orbital defences and the technology advantage we already have means that we can call back every ship out on missions, if necessary, within a few days.” “What the hell is the point in being an oversight committee if every single order we make is run roughshod over by the people we’re supposed to be watching?” the Frenchman replied. “Maybe instead of ordering the fleet to stay where it was we should have asked to keep them here. Or maybe we should go and get their input instead of demanding when and where the ships should be.” “We have more than enough former members of the SGC and naval branches to know exactly how things should be used and where,” Hughes shot back. “The IOA is in its position to make sure that these people don’t take advantage of things, especially barely literate thugs like O’Neill and his people.” “Oh, not this again.” McClusky sighed. “Have you any idea at all how much of an idiot you sound like? Do you really think having the rank that man has would be simply given to him if he couldn’t use it?” “I’m well aware of his abilities. The man has the qualifications and the knowledge of his job, but outside of that he is going to make things worse for us long before he makes it better.” *****
Ash's Boomstick. CH_20c -.BSG Valkyrie-_ Bill&Tigh; Glennfiddich Scotch; Corman, Tau'ri, ScareTactics, Quarantine, IntelProbes Battlestar Valkyrie Guardian Class Three Battlestar Caprica Containment and Quarantine Zone Twelve Colonies “We’re set, Bill. Ship’s locked down and under quarantine.” Tigh had knocked on the hatchway and entered with the report that Adama had been awaiting. The bald man frowned as he looked at his friend. Bill was very rarely a hardcore drinker and was even less likely to drink heavily when on board the ship, something that Saul knew he had been badly remiss about over the years. In front of his friend and commanding officer sat two wide bottomed tumblers with an etched seal on them. A bottle of amber liquid right in front of the other man also sat full and sealed with a flaking wax covering on the lid. “What’s this?” “A gift.” “A gift?” Adama threw a card onto the table gesturing for Saul to pick it up. The writing inside was in perfect modern Caprican right the way down to the idioms of the language. The front held the same seal on the front while the inside was hand written, the Colonel read the message then again just to make sure that what he was reading was right before setting it back down on the table in front of him. Bill picked up the bottle by its neck and handed it over to his exec before picking up the card himself. The writing on the label was unreadable to the two men but it was more than obvious what the bottle contained, not to mention the age of the bottle and the contents inside. “It’s old,” was all Tigh could say. “Nice sense of humour.” “I’ve had the bottle’s name and contents translated by Mister Gaeta” said Adama. “The writing’s one of the dominant languages of the Earth, a bastard language he called it. This is some kind of drink known as Glennfiddich Scotch on Earth. According to Gaeta this stuff was brewed over a hundred years ago in a place called Scot-island. It’s forty percent proof and double malted whatever that means.” “Odd sense of humour General O’Neill has.” Tigh mused as he looked at the liquid inside. He eyed it carefully and with more than a bit of suspicion. “Poisoned?” Commander looked at Tigh smiling ruefully. “It’s a message, as well as a gift.” Adama carefully took the bottle back and gently unwrapped the top of the bottle saving the wax seal as best he could before pulling the lid off of the scotch, pouring a modest measure into the two glasses he held one up and looked at the clear crystal of the tumbler. Tigh looked over the glass as it was handed to him before shaking his head. The etched seal was written in both English and basic Caprican allowing them to know that the seal itself was that of the Office of the Chief of Staff of Homeworld Security, General Jack O’Neill himself. Each of the glasses had one name or the other of the Valkyrie’s senior officers. Bill had no idea how O’Neill had known what ship they were or how he knew the two of them would still be in command of the Battlestar. “O’Neill knew everything he needed to, he wanted us to know just what he was capable of.” “My gods. We are fracked.” Tigh held up the other glass looking at the amber color liquid insides before looking back at his friend. “If he can put these things in your quarters there’s no way in hell we can stop him if he wanted to beam a nuke into the engines. Poisoning a vintage bottle like this would be a bit below his capabilities.” “He’s good, very good.” Adama took a draught of the scotch. “Hmmm.” Tigh followed the gesture and felt the liquid drop down into his stomach. “Whoa, that is good.” “As good as some of the bottles in my cellar.” “At least,” Tigh agreed “Something else that we have to put into the reports.” “Taking people off their ships and putting expensive alcohol in someone’s quarters, Corman is going to go ape shit.” “Couldn’t happen to a nicer person; just don’t tell him about the bottle. Make it a fruit basket or something.” Tigh finished his drink “We’ve had a message from Corman’s office. He’s on his way here and he’s a little frakked off with the fact that we threatened to put a hole in the defence perimeter. He also decided that we can’t have finished our mission in the time we’ve had.” “If you weren’t on board would you have believed it?” “Not really, no.” “Sirs.” A knock came from the open hatch, Gaeta peered in. “Admiral Corman is landing now in Beta Bay, he jumped in from orbit on the other side of the planet.” “That was quick,” Saul gruffed. “Guess he didn’t want to wait. Return to your station.” “Aye, sir.” Adama picked up his glass and retrieved the other from Tigh. Carefully wrapping them in a piece of cloth he put both away inside his trunk. The bottle followed them into the depths before he closed the lid locking them in securely. The fact he had them could be construed as consorting with the enemy especially given the fact he had been aboard an enemy ship and out of contact for several minutes. “Time to get this over with.” *** “Admiral Adama, Colonel Tigh,” Corman said as he barged into Adama’s cabin. The senior officer was more haggard than he had been before their voyage to Earth and looked as if he had the weight of all the twelve colonies on his shoulder. “Admiral Corman.” “Sir.” “Well, what exactly do you have onboard that is so gods – damned important that you threaten the safety of the defensive line around the capital of the planet and ignore your orders?” Corman was seething. "We didn’t ignore anything sir,” Adama shot back. “The probes we were sent to retrieve are sitting in Alpha Bay waiting for date extraction. In addition we also brought back a ship full of survivors from the battle at Earth. You might have seen that heavy cruiser sitting off our port side.” “You are six weeks ahead of schedule. Even the best jumps possible wouldn’t have got you that far that fast.” “Not usually no. You might want to sit down, Admiral. This is a long story.” “Just tell me the basics.” “Fine, the Tau’ri caught us and let us go.” “What, why? “They had a ship’s worth of survivors they were willing to let go home. They needed someone to bring them back and we were there picking up your stealth probes, probes which they seemed to have no idea existed.” “Good, then maybe we can get some decent information out of them.” The Intelligence chief looked at the two men. “Alright Adama let’s say I believe that they let you go. What happened?” “Simply put, sir they wanted to scare us.” “And how exactly did they do that?” “We jumped from the area close to their fourth planet to the border of our home sector,” Tigh replied smirking, “in one jump.” “Really,” Corman sneered. “What else did you manage to do Colonel, persuade the Earth to give over all their technology and surrender? A jump that size is not only impossible but damned stupid to even try.” Adama handed over the data record of the ship’s voyage to the Earth’s solar system before their capture and subsequent release. The information gathered in the file included the number of probes they were able to ascertain the locations of, those they were able to salvage and the apparent inability of the Tau’ri to spot the stealth characteristics of their specialist probes. The final section had involved the conversation with O’Neill and the use of their energy beam technology to pluck him from the Valkyrie to the Icarus. The fact was it was a warning and a very serious one at that. Corman seemed to visibly age as he quickly looked over the data. “If this is right then they can jump in at least this far with our own FTL drives. They’ve got access to hundreds of FTL cores and the location of every station, anchorage and planet we’ve got!” hissed Corman. This was the last thing the Colonials needed to hear. “Which means every mission in the local sectors looking for their long range bases…?” “Have been a big frakking waste of time and resources, Admiral” he concluded. Adama looked the other man in the eyes. “The Tau’ri would have no problem dropping a fleet inside the Colonies and blasting anything that got in the way. They have our technology our Intel and our star maps. One of their ships with shield and a dozen big nukes and we’d lose another planet to them, then another.” “Hells, if they wanted they pack Raptors with bombs and jump them all across the system crippling our defences and our economy in a single blow.” Tigh growled. “If they can do this with our tech, what the hell do they have that we haven’t seen yet?” “I’ll send a recall order to all ships out on exploration duty, pull back every ship we can into the colonies and stay there. I’m attaching your ship back to the survivor groups from the clusterfrak at Earth. Most of those ships are still in quarantine as well.” “After nine months?” “Orders from Adar’s office. The entire fleet has been dispatched for repair and refit at the new yards at Ragnar. The Valkyrie will be heading up the remaining ships as part of the local defence fleet Admiral,” Corman explained. “The fleet as it is will be holding position until the President’s office deems that they be released back to the Colonies. He’s using the excuse of a resurgence of the plague that hit us to keep them under EMCOM. He’ll order both this ship and the Relentless to head there as well, although in regards to the Relentless’ crew, I won’t disagree with that, a year under Tau’ri control… Well I’m not willing to put my ass on the line in case they are carrying something nasty.” “Yes, sir,” Adama also agreed. “But the rest of the fleet came back without having touched ground or been in close quarters with any of the Earth’s people. The colonies already know about the Earth’s people and the fact we got our asses handed to us.” “Fear Adama, simple fear. The fleet is full of the only people who survived contact with the Earthers and their fleet. Adar used propaganda to tell the colonies that took out more than fifty percent of their fleet. He didn’t tell anyone that fleet was only six ships. He lets the crews of those ships out the truth comes up and he’s frakked.” “He is frakked. A year without any contact with home and no-one back home knows if any of their friends or family are still alive. He’d be lucky to hold down a job as a librarian after this shit,” Adama growled. “It gets worse, Admiral.” Tigh said. “The Earthers have more than fifty warships in orbit of their planet, some their bigger bastards but most are smaller gunboats of some kind. And small as they are I’m willing to bet my pension that one of them can frak up one of our battlestars, let alone anything else we’ve got.” “Did they look like they were gathering those forces from outside?” “No. Most looked brand new and hadn’t been broken in and if they’d had that many ships available a year ago none of us would be standing here. The Tau’ri could have used those ships on us by now dropping nukes onto every planet. If they mass produce their largest ships one for one against our battlestars….” He didn’t need to finish the thought. Corman rubbed his face, weariness showing through. “We need the Intel that those probes have Adama if there’s anything in there that can show us what we’re up against and not the rhetoric that Adar and the church are spewing then we need it ASAP. We’ve got an Intel team at Ragnar to take them off your hands while you get situated as fleet commander. You’ll answer directly to Admiral Kronus as CinC of the Ragnar Fleet Anchorage or to me. No one else is to know anything that you’ve seen or heard is that understood?” “Understood. The jump took out most of our tylium, but we'll have enough for a jump to the shipyards but we'll need a refuel there.” “The tankers have just dropped off a full load for the shipyards. Off the record Adama, I want my ships out of there and on station as soon as possible. We lost far too many ships to keep seventy on the same station without rotating the crews. The quarantine story is losing any credibility it had and the people that forced its implementation with it. The fact is that we’re sending you to keep the fleet stable before it blows up. Supplies and equipment for the ships have been going through the shipyards to repair and resupply the surviving ships but we’ve not allowed any replacement personnel on board, no vipers or raptors and no replacement ammo or nukes.” “That bad?” Tigh asked. “Bad enough, I want you there within the hour, Admiral. The data extraction teams will be on station before you get there, no-one outside of the chain of command is to know anything about those probes or where they came from.” Corman stood up. “Change of fleet command orders have already been sent. I’ll wish you luck but I hope to Hades that you don’t need it.” “Yes, sir.” Adama’s gravelled voice was low as the implication set in. “I hope so too.” Minutes later a single Raptor left the flight pod heading for a decontamination suite on the central station. Moments later a single flash of light indicated the departure of the Valkyrie to Ragnar. Aboard the battlestar the ship’s master began to plan. He had a lot to do and if the indications were right then he had very little time in which to do it.
Ash's Boomstick. CH_21a -.RagnarAnchorage-_ Kronus, Adama&Saul, SagittaronFlu, Marines&CrusadeFleet, DeimosIncident&Isolated, BSG Zeus UPDATE TIME!!!! Chapter 21 Ragnar Anchorage Second Fleet Command Station Colonial Deep Space Kronus grimaced at the taste of three hour old cold coffee as it hit his tongue. As a Battlestar Group Commander and later a full Battle Wing Commander he had thought that he’d seen the true face of evil, but that was nothing compared to what he had had to face in his office. Paperwork... Not just a little... Not just a lot... ...Paperwork involving the station and its attendant ships, their attendant ships and then the parasite wings, supplies, incoming and outgoing craft including the newly arrived Battlestars from the bone yards for the new or soon to be complete slipways, and of course the usual demands for updates from Command which seemed to multiply on a daily basis. Even with the usual dissemination to Section Heads, command staffs and then further and further down to whoever would be best suited they still ended up in the Admiral’s office for signing off. Signing off on yet another request to Colonial Fleet Command for more Viper and Raptor Squadrons to round up the station’s defences, Kronus set aside the pen and paper and looked out of the huge bay windows to the side of his office. From there he could see the massive expansion of the yards still taking place. There were a dozen decommissioned Battlestars under reconstruction from the hull inwards, while a larger number of skeletons were visible nearby as the mass production of the Type Threes were beginning. Other, smaller yards were building escorts for the fleet that was slowly taking shape inside the gas giant. However as he stared out into the void at his station, his eyes were forced to focus into the far distance at a cluster of ships, something that remained a visible sore on his otherwise flawless command... ...The Crusade Fleet. There were dozens of ships both in sound shape and damaged, filled with hundreds of thousands of crewmen, officers, pilots, soldiers and technicians all survivors of the ill fated attack on Earth and its supposedly undefended people. All of them were stuck together on ships that weren’t designed to handle so many people. Those cramped ships were beginning to fail, forcing the survivors to abandon their supposedly temporary homes in favor of even more cramped ships. Pulling his eyes away from the windows, Kronus looked back down at the pile of documents he was still signing off on. Command of Ragnar and its surrounding shipyards was something that he hadn’t been expecting, when he arrived a week before. Even as a Battlestar Wing Commander, he hadn’t had so much power and responsibility handed to him. The station and its own defence ships would have been enough responsibility for even the most experienced men in his position, but for him to also command the shipyards, the Research and Development sections, and the remnants of that damn fool crusade meant that he was on call almost all day, every day. His advancing years were creeping up on him and even if the doctor had said he could look forward to another thirty years on top of his seventy five, he was feeling the strain already. Fortunately his salvation had just arrived. Far outside the gas giant’s perimeter, the Valkyrie flashed into existence, its main DRADIS and comms system locked forward into the single passageway into the Ragnar Fleet Yards. “Jump complete, Ragnar Orbit, Commander.” “Find the IFF beacon Ensign. Run the program.” “Running the program, Aye.” “The people at Command are more paranoid than I am,” Saul said, “trusting damn machines to keep us safe too.” “Now we know just what the Tau’ri are capable of, are you surprised?” “No, not really.” “Sirs,” Gaeta called. “Picking up pulse beacon with Colonial IFF; it’s responding to our own comms.” “Alright, lock on and get us to the station.” The Valkyrie moved slowly as she entered the forward end of the passageway, her DRADIS picking up every mine, defence post and satellite in the area. Each of the defences was constantly scanning and being updated as to the location and identity of the Battlestar. The program input now controlling the Valkyrie’s forward motion was a combined IFF beacon and command program-meaning that no-one knew just what was part of the defences, nor how to get through the gauntlet without being pulverised by shrapnel, explosives and heavy nukes. Once through to the other side the program would erase itself completely, forcibly overwriting itself to the point that no computer could rebuild the data, a security feature that it was hoped would make it more difficult for any enemy to find and infiltrate Ragnar without an authentic IFF code. Once inputted into the main systems, the program was fully automated, linking the library computer to the navigation and communications system. The Valkyrie’s own systems had been tied together temporarily to allow them access to the shipyards. Passing through the final barrier of mines, the Valkyrie burst out into the station’s defence perimeter which was surrounded by a last grouping of defence turrets which like the rest of the weapons holding position throughout the entryway had been picked up from the orbit of Picon. Those weapons were further enhanced by successive waves of weapons and mines pulled out of mothballs and returned to service. As the Battlestar slipped through a pair of heavy fleet tugs broke away from an intercepting formation of ships. At their order, the Valkyrie’s engine shut down allowing the escorting auxiliaries to pull them into position alongside one of the resupply tenders. “Message from the Station Commander, sir,” Lt Hunter said from his position. “They are sending a raptor across to you from the station’ hub. Admiral Kronus wishes for you to board as soon as possible. We’ve also got two larger shuttles requesting landing clearance. They have Ministry of Intelligence codes, sir.” “I bet they do,” sighed Adama. “Signal the shuttles for immediate landing and get Chief Tyrol to hand over the probes we picked up. Once we’re docked with the tender reduce crew to skeleton manning and continue with normal rotation. Relax people it’s been a very long day.” The raptor that landed was larger and far more opulent than the normal fleet based versions, something that was very likely pushed through the fleet procurement quickly and silently for the upper brass of the multiple arms of the armed forces. Sleeker and armed with a pair of cannons and rocket pods that seemed to be permanent fixtures aboard instead of a modular attachment, the inside was far more comfortable that any other shuttle sized ship that the fleet officer had ever been on. The cost of this modified raptor would have furnished a dozen of her combat oriented sisters or the majority of the cost of a fleet destroyer. “Fancy,” Tigh sneered. “Think we can get one?” “I’m an Admiral. I’ll find out.” “Valkyrie, this is Raptor Ragnar Zero One, requesting clearance for lift off.” “Raptor Zero One, you have clearance. Look after your passengers.” “Roger that.” The pilot looked behind him at the two senior officers. “Buckle up, sirs. We’re outta here.” “Thank you, Lt.” Adama responded. “This is an interesting vessel.” “Yes Sir, but a little too… fancy for my tastes,” the young man said. “To be fair, this is only my second time flying her. She’s been highly tuned.” “How much?” “I trained in both Raptors and Vipers, sir. This thing flies like a combination of both. Fast but a frakker to steer sometimes… uhh sorry, Sir.” “Apology Accepted Lt…” “Quantaros, sir. Alex Quantaros. Crashdown.” “Crashdown?” Tigh grumbled. “And they let you fly?” “Yes, sir.” He grinned. “I’m pretty new here. Just off the Triton before she was shifted to the Cylon border, so I’m still on ferry duty until I get my bearings on the station.” A few minutes later the Raptor dropped down onto the station’s main hanger bay. The recent addition to the huge station had allowed the increase in fighter deployment allowing more than ten squadrons to be serviced from this one bay alone. Shuttles, Raptors, tankers, lifters and numerous other types of small craft were lifting off, landing or undergoing maintenance. As they landed, a larger than normal group of knuckle draggers swarmed over the vessel; checking it over for any problems that the very short voyage might have had. “Unbelievable.” Tigh looked on saying, “the Admiral’s got all the perks.” Adama simply shrugged as the marine guard met them at the lifts to the upper decks of the station. A few minutes later the small group ended their journey at the double doors of the Admiral’s office. A quick knock followed by an ‘enter’ brought Adama and Tigh face to face with their new senior officer. “Admiral Kronus.” “Admiral Adama, Colonel Tigh.” Kronus nodded to the marine guards. “Dismissed gentlemen.” The two guards left the three ranking officers behind as they marched through the heavy doors before sealing them with a hiss. The pneumatic seal would keep anyone from getting into the room with anything short of a dedicated breaching charge. Kronus looked up at Adama his face neutral as the younger man stared back. Slowly the elderly admiral’s face began to twitch slightly before breaking into a suppressed smile then a grin. Adama’s own reaction was much the same as the two men grabbed each other’s hands in a firm grip. “Dammit Bill, it’s good to see you.” “You too, Phil.” Adama smiled back. “Saul, you too.” “Same, sir. It’s been a while.” “So, It seems the two of you aren’t the most popular of officers back home right now,” Kronus said gesturing to the chairs in front of his desk. “I’ve had some information handed to me from Corman and more from some old friends in Caprica Command. Apparently you are seen at the moment as politically unreliable and a possible danger to the colonies.” “I’m not surprised.” “Care to inform me about the real reasons and not the frak that I’ve been given by the Admiralty?” The elder Admiral spoke throwing down a highly classified report in front of Adama. Bill quickly ran through the report before snorting back a laugh and handing it to his exec. “Yes I thought that might be your reaction.” “What the frak is this?” Saul’s eyes narrowed at the report. “Possible dereliction, unsubstantiated information? We only got back a few hours ago.” “I received that report three days ago along with an order to hand over control of the crusade fleet remnants to you. They want you in command the same way you were when you brought the survivors back from the assault on Earth. Any other commander would be at risk of contamination from those vessels.” “The contamination isn’t from the viruses that the government somehow have made people believe that airtight ships that didn’t even enter orbit of a planet have. The quarantine is to keep the crews from talking about what they saw.” “After the debacle at Earth then the crippling of two colonies by their forces, are you surprised?” Kronus leant back. “Sagittaron has been quarantined as well. An entire ship full of people infected with the Tau’ri plague landed in a major city. More than fifty percent of the planet’s population are dead, dying or ill from the virus, the rest – are just a matter of time. We’re lucky that the livestock and plants seem to be immune to the illness. Once the virus burns itself out we’ll have to repopulate the world.” “Frak me,” Saul growled. “It’s funny but if Picon and Caprica hadn’t been so badly hit by the Tau’ri already we’d be looking at food shortages. Combined with the losses taken due to the virus, the Colonies can weather the loss of Sagittaron for a while.” “That explains how Adar’s kept people from asking about the survivors.” “It won’t be for long. It’s been long enough since the attack on Earth that people are asking why aren’t the fleet doing something to stop the Tau’ri. Adar’s exercises won’t work forever and now he’s flailing at the wind, unable to grasp anything solid.” “How many ships are we looking at under my command Philip?” “At least thirty five warships and the troop carriers you brought back, a few more older vessels were put back into service to accommodate the rest of the crews and soldiers you brought back with you. Maybe seventy ships all told.” “And none armed?” “How much did Corman tell you?” “That the ships that we brought back have been resupplied and are staying supplied with food and fuel but no weapons, no vipers or raptors or new crews.” “That’s about right. The remaining smaller craft in the fleet were sequestered into the station’s defence force but the pilots were left on the warships. Any remaining nuclear weapons have also been acquired for the launchers. It apparently helped with the overcrowding those ships were stuck with until the troop ships appeared.” Kronus buzzed his assistant to bring in some refreshments before continuing. “Those ships of the fleet that still have armament are close to being pulled out of their formations and added to the defence fleet here. The orders will mean that the crews won’t have any recourse in their attempts to get contact with people back home. Every ship and soldier at this base is here under orders of strict silence, no-one is allowed out of here unless they have a damn good reason or orders from the Admiralty. This includes you two and the Valkyrie.” “An easy way to keep people silent. What about the rest of the ships Admiral?” Tigh asked. “There are a lot of non-navy personnel on those ships; they won’t have any reason to stay here.” “I know and that’s what Corman’s sent you here for. The ground pounders are in a worse state that the Naval personnel. None of them have been in combat or come close to Earth for deployment; combine that with the fact that few of them are trained for very long term deployment aboard warships. Well, you can see the problem that’s brewing out there, sooner or later something is going to break and it’s going to come from that fleet.” Kronus stopped as a female lieutenant stepped in with a tray of hot drinks before leaving. The Admiral smirked, “well as you can see some perks come with this job, although at my age I’m not really capable of taking advantage of them as I once may have.” Turning serious, he looked at the two men. “I need all the help I can get with this problem. The fleet as a whole has lost almost a tenth of its combined forces in a year. We’ve been pushing the remaining construction yards above Sagittaron, Caprica, and the Storm hold Bone yards at Cimtar and now here at Ragnar. We’ve managed to recover and rebuild almost every Battlestar, Warstar and Battleship that we had decommissioned in the last fifty years. We’ve got another eighty class three Battlestars under construction with another ten Class Ones on the boards. Within two years we’ll have replaced every loss and then some but we don’t have the crews nor the stockpiles and refineries to do much more than that. But it’s not enough. We are in a bad way materially, in personnel and weapons plus the morale of our armed forces is lower than any time I’ve seen since the start of the Cylon war. We’ve lost more ships and people in one year than ten against the toasters. Now the fleet are asking why are we bothering to continue and that’s where you come in.” “So it seems, I brought them home and I’ve gone back and come out alive.” “Exactly. If the fleet finds out that one of our ships had dared to go back into the mouth of the Chimera and not only stared it down but come back intact with information that would lead to us understanding the Tau’ri....” Kronus leant back. “At least that’s Command’s line when the ship commanders begin to ask about things, the fact is Bill you, like your ship, the crusade fleet, and its people are undesirables when it comes to politics. As much as we want to get our people out of there we haven’t been given permission to release the crews from their ships and the time they’ve spent underway, on station or under quarantine will exceed the normal patrol duration in six months. After a protracted combat and retreat that duration has passed by before your people even arrived home and the crews know that.” “The Valkyrie’s been out there twice. We should have been ready for a refit and resupply by now.” “I agree. The ships in your fleet are in a sorry state with breakdowns being repaired on site or with parts equipped by the tenders and machine shops here on the station but some need serious overhauls to their systems or hull repairs. One damaged Battlestar underwent total atmospheric loss to its lower hull soon after arrival. No losses but the entire ship had to be evacuated quickly. We didn’t even bother with a full decontamination of the ship outside of a total depressurisation to kill whatever bug was aboard. She’s been rebuilt and added to the defence fleet leaving her crew on the other ships.” “And there’s nothing stopping the Admiralty ordering the same with the other ships and moving the crews to troop ships to keep them there.” Tigh bit out. “Keeping our own people as POWs instead of the enemy, frak!” “Seven other ships underwent other system malfunctions including power loses during their redeployment here. Each has been pulled apart and rebuilt before being added to the fleet again instead of sent back to assist the rest of the survivors.” Kronus passed over a file from his desk draw. “Right now, more than twelve thousand incidences of assault, insubordination, theft, harassment, rape, manslaughter and murder have been reported by the fleet’s commanders.” He continued as the two men looked over the information that the Admiral had uncovered from investigations of the fleet. The contents were not something that either had ever wanted to see. “A thousand men and women have been spaced by summary judgement by ship’s crews when the guilty verdict came down. The fact is we’re in a serious position that will cause us to lose more people at a vicious rate, a rate we can’t afford to lose people at. Those are highly trained personnel that we need back on the front lines but even if they are put back on duty most will desert or refuse to go back on patrol without serious leave first.” The Senior Admiral glanced out the windows again, “Our people need to decompress. The fact is that I have seventy ships whose crews are at the very edge of their patience and some may be willing to fight back against any fleet ships that try to force the issue.” “Mutiny.” Tigh replied succinctly thinking of at least one such occurrence in the last fifty years that he knew of. “Mutiny,” Kronus confirmed. “There hasn’t been a full warship scale mutiny since the sixth year of the Cylon War and I’m sure as hell not going to allow something like that to happen here!” “The Deimos was an isolated incident,” Adama nodded. *** The Deimos had been a prototype warship built as the last heavy cruiser class of an independent Leonis during the lead up to what eventually became the Cylon war. What was little more than a Proto-Battlestar with heavy calibre guns had been at the forefront of the war alongside four of her sisters as a flying wedge of firepower. One battle had been orchestrated by a foolish commander that had been motivated by greed rather than by combat necessity lead to the annihilation of the flying wing. As the only survivor of the battle that had cost the Colonies the rest of the squadron and the Battlestar group that they had been supporting, the crew was ordered to Picon to undergo a full investigation with the command crew possibly up for courts martial. In response the ship’s crew as one had decided that enough was enough and had mutinied against the orders from Colonial Command and retreated from the battlefield. The cruiser had continued to fight the Cylons of its own accord while hijacking arms and supply shipments to keep their ship running. Unwilling or unable to stop the attacks on their own ships, Colonial command had allowed the Deimos to continue in their attacks. Several other ships were hijacked and added to the Deimos fleet as missile carriers or to misdirect the Cylons, however the fall of the heavy cruiser would come at the hands of a sister ship. Post war, the Deimos crew were offered amnesty if they were to return to Colonial control and surrender their vessel to the authorities. Unwilling to believe the same Admiralty that threatened to arrest and put the crew on trial, the Deimos refused and continued to raid supply ships simply to survive. A year later, the cruiser was cornered by another heavy cruiser of her line, a heavily modified variant designed as a hunter-killer. More than ten years older than her sister and barely held together through the efforts of the ship’s engineers the Deimos stood no chance against the heavily armed Colonial ship. It took mere minutes before the Deimos was destroyed and its crew killed. This was the last case of mutiny in the Colonial fleet. *** “But I see your point, if we’re to keep these people happy or at least somewhat content then we need to do something about getting them off of those ships,” Adama mused. “At least get a few more ships to stop the overcrowding.” “I’ve tried that. The Admiralty refuse to allow for any more ships to be ‘infected’ by that fleet population because of the costs of maintenance as well as clearing out the apparent diseases they might have. So, if you have any ideas I’m willing to listen,” Kronus said. You’re the new fleet commander.” “I’ll let you know when I think of it.” “Alright then, once you’re back on the Valkyrie you’ll be towed into place with the rest of the fleet. Unfortunately you will be under the same constraints as the rest of the fleet when it comes to any external communication. The only contact you will have is amongst the other ships in the fleet and my command section. Food, medical and other necessary supplies will be restocked when and if necessary by the same tenders that are currently refitting your ship. I’m sorry to say that your ship is also being stripped of the same weapons and craft as the rest of your fleet has. It’s orders from on high which I’m afraid is actually my fault.” “Your fault?” “I’ve asked several times for supplies and craft to reinforce this station. I’m under strength by more than a third in everything except local escorts and I was informed to strip the crusade fleet of anything they had to bolster my defences. It was all I could do to refuse to pull the ammo from the point defence guns on your ships, but considering the possibility of mutiny I might have to look at stripping out the larger calibre weapons as well.” “We’ve got one squadron of Vipers on board. The rest were taken off before we were launched on the second mission to Earth.” “The fleet out there had maybe one hundred fighters and a few dozen nukes on board. Apparently they had orders to push out anything that could be dumped to make room for the other refugees from the fleet and crews of Atropos and the rest of the station crews on their way in.” “I know, I ordered it. No frakking way I was leaving anyone behind when we blew the supply stations.” “Right now we don’t have the ability to get the ships needed nor any way to bring them aboard this station. I’m going to ask you, not order, to take on a few thousand of the soldiers out there. Your ship can take at least enough to relieve the overcrowding on the smaller ships.” An automated message interrupted the conversation the voice echoed through the command centre and out to its attendant ships and stations throughout the base. “Attention all hands, FTL event at outside perimeter. All hands to Condition Two Status. Repeat all hands to Condition Two status.” “Must be the delivery from the bone yards,” Kronus murmured, “the last of the decommissioned Warstars.” “Which class?” Tigh looked out the window as a few dozen vipers launched from the station and the surrounding ships. Guns and missile batteries on the furthest defence platforms moved silently into position in case of attack. The fleet was obviously well trained and experienced in this kind of drill. “Colonial Class, the Zeus I think.” “That thing’s almost as old as the Galactica Class,” Tigh said, wide eyed. “I didn’t think any were still around.” “A salvage team found one about four months ago or so, they found something on board that the Admiralty are keeping hushed up about.” Kronus looked out at the assembling force, “Six minutes to move on station, not bad at all.” “We need to start rotating people off of those ships somehow.” Adama said bringing the conversation back on track. He looked up with a puzzled look. “As the fleet commander, I have some power to do so. Correct?” The Admiral shifted in his chair. “As long as it doesn’t interfere with the running of this command or against the orders yes,” he ordered. “Is there anything in our orders that preclude them from accepting new supplies onto their ships?” “Only munitions and other weapons. No new crews either. We’ve allowed personnel to swap between units to retrain or develop skills but we’ve not got enough ships or open posts to do so.” “Are all supplies brought in from outside the Station?” “Some. We’ve had manufacturing ships and botanical cruisers brought in to help make us self sufficient but a lot of actual material is brought in by specially modified cargo ships under the auspices of Fleet Intelligence. Even then it’s a bare trickle compared to what used to supply Picon. Hells, at the rate the resources we have are being used we’ll be out of building materials within the year.” “I’ll have the fleet let me know of the state of their ships and entertainment libraries. If necessary we’ll have new films, books, etc sent across. I’m also going to commandeer the largest of the Botanical cruisers.” “I think I know where you’re going with this Adama. Those cruisers supply a large percentage of fresh fruit and vegetables to this Command. Taking the largest cruiser will put a dent in our supply situation. A word of warning: the Admiralty may decide to overrule your decision once they hear of it.” “Those crews are supposed to be under quarantine. A ship like a Botanical Cruiser built to keep pressure in their domes and to stop cross contamination.” Tigh smirked. “If we rotate people through three of her domes the others will be fine. The supplies on at least one of those ships must be dedicated to the fleet.” “It is. Alright Adama, I’ll authorise this immediately. But be wary, the idiots back home might try to find a way to hang you for disobeying orders somehow.” The senior officer leant back. “I hope you know what you’re doing.” Adama followed suit as he himself leant back, “All things considered Admiral they want me out of the service for doing my job so to be frank I don’t really care.”
Ash's Boomstick. CH_21b -.Texas-_ HammondFuneral, Eulogy, JacK&Hayes, Davis&Sam, DSC - The General George Hammond Church Of Jesus Christ Our Saviour Houston Texas “We are gathered here under the sight of god to put to rest the mortal body of one George Sinclair Hammond.” It had been less than forty eight hours after his death that the world had been informed as to the loss of General Hammond to heart attack. The military arms of the majority of the alliance nations had included black armbands on the uniforms of both military and civilian personnel. Several countries had gone so far as to lower their own national flags as a day of mourning in memory of the man. The dissemination of his records as both commander of Homeworld Security and a slightly more edited version of his time with Stargate Command had been made available. Once it had been confirmed that the General had been lost, the IOA and SGC in a moment of weakness on both parts completely agreed that the man should have a hero’s funeral. His home city of Houston was chosen as the location for the ceremony. Even though it was known that Hammond would not and in fact did not want a fuss made of his passing the senior officers of his former commands knew the political aspects that such a funeral would bring. Now a week after his passing the largest church in Houston was packed to standing room with a multitude of family, friends, allies and loved ones. It had been the request of the family and agreed upon by the President himself that Hammond be allowed to rest alongside his wife, daughter and parents at their side in Texas as opposed to being buried at Arlington National Cemetery as was the custom for those lost while still on active duty. The front rows were filled with Hammond’s children, grand children and remaining immediate family. Included among them was each of the members of SG-1 active during his tenure in command. Jack, Sam, Daniel and Teal’c were accompanied by Jonas Quinn, Cadet Jon O’Neill, and Cassandra Frasier. Most of the SG-1 males alongside Hammond’s son in law and brother had been chosen as pall bearers. Sam Carter had volunteered her place to be taken by Paul Davis her height difference making it far more difficult for her to join the rest as bearers. Behind the front two rows sat members of the SGC, Homeworld Security and other commands that the General had led over his years in uniform. These were followed by members of the IOA, the United States Air Force, dignitaries and leaders of the Western Allies. Members of races from off world including the injured and exhausted Tollans, the leaders of the Free Jaffa Nation, the hebridans, a multitude of humans from dozens of worlds that knew of and respected the man as well as the rank were there to pay their respects. At the far end several of the SGC’s finest were decked out in their dress uniforms. Warrant Officer Siler, Chief Master Sergeant Harriman and their significant others had volunteered their services as ushers for the funeral both forgoing their deserved seats on the front row to other members of the SGC family. “General Jack O’Neill will now read the eulogy as requested by the family of George.” “As many know I am a man of few words.” He glanced up and around before looking back at the audience. Several of which were suppressing smiles or out and out laughter at that moment. “Usually If I say something like that, I get abducted by aliens but I guess Thor’s a little busy right now. General George Hammond was above all a great man. Under his command we got away with doing a lot more stuff than anyone else could, maybe because he liked us the most or maybe because he gave up trying to control us completely as we would end up going over his head anyway to get the job done.” “I didn’t really know just what we were doing to him until after I accepted my first star and took over from him. For months I wasn’t sure what I was doing even with help from those people who had supported him before me. Every time I was about ready to hand in my stars and go back to field work I began to write a letter, each time getting a little further before destroying it. Each time I wondered what George would do in my position before I remembered what he had done. Each time I did, I tried to emulate him and you know, sometimes it worked – sometimes, it didn’t. So one day I stopped trying to do what George would do and did what Jack would do. I told him about this a few weeks after I took over Homeworld Command from him and he said, ‘I did the same thing.’” The people in the audience nodded in agreement after all even as a General Hammond had had to learn things the hard way. O’Neill had become somewhat of an unofficial protégé of the senior General, leading Jack to follow in his footsteps as the most influential and experienced officer in the multi-armed space and ground alien defence command. Jack’s way of doing things was far different form Hammond’s. That included his personal life. While unable to pursue a long term personal relationship unlike his former boss, O’Neill had made up for that by cultivating long lasting friendships with people in his different commands. “As a commander, George Hammond did everything he could to make sure than we all stayed alive and mostly intact, even facing down other officers, politicians and self proclaimed gods. Men like the General were and still are a rare and precious commodity in life. Everything that he was willing to do or if necessary force others to do was in the best traditions of a man who was both a great officer and a great man. Without George the world as we know it wouldn't be standing here. Every day that we spend breathing, living and surviving we need to remember it was because of men like George that we have the chance to do so." "As a subordinate he was fair and gave us leeway that we never would have under any other commander. As a man, as a friend, there are few that could have been any better and even less that I would have trusted with my life,” Jack completed. “Rest easy General; we’ve got it from here.” *** Stepping down from the pulpit, Jack handed off to the next in line to speak for the General. From the second row, Henry Hayes stood and passed the General thanking him on the way through before standing in front of the people. Unlike Jack however he didn’t have any paper or ready speech for the man he had known for almost forty years. Stepping up, he looked around at the assembled men and women of the congregation “George Hammond was an old school kind of a man,” President Hayes began. “From the get go he was a good officer, a good man and a fine pilot. Having known the man since basic training we had kept in touch throughout our careers and it was to my detriment that I lost contact with him once I left the service. In becoming president I was to discover my old friend commanding the front line of an undeclared war against an alien race or three.” “Now I will admit this had me confused and not a little afraid at what the United States had got into, especially when I found out we had a very large enemy fleet heading right for Earth only a few weeks into my administration. But finding out that an old friend had made it to the top of his profession at the same time I was made me realise that maybe we had a chance. George Hammond willingly took charge of a small but growing part of our military and turned it into the most powerful arm of any armed forces in the world. He could have turned it down and I would have had him retake his old command, but even after giving him that choice he didn’t take it.” “George had realised at that point that he knew he hadn’t many more years in the big chair to impart his experience and knowledge to those that were coming after him. Stepping down from his command in favour of his successor Jack O’Neill, he took over Homeworld Command and began restructuring it as best he could in the time he had left. Once again however he stood down only eighteen months later to allow General O’Neill to take over as his replacement. Each time he left a well organised and expanding command for his successors to maintain. He himself had been able to teach them what they needed to know to complete his work.” “His passing has meant the loss of a great man and one that was at the forefront of the fight against enemies both foreign and domestic. As a friend for almost forty years this is a personal loss to my family and myself. It is with high hopes that we remember George Hammond for the man, the officer and the Gentleman that he was. Thank you,” Hayes finished up. Surprising to most, the next to stand to speak wasn’t someone who had known Hammond as well as the others or as long as most but had been a soldier himself for a long time. Bre’tac took the dais and moved up so the rest of the church could see him. Dressed in his finest robes complete with skullcap and sash he had begun to look like the elder statesman that he had become. “I met Hammond of Texas very soon after his warriors defeated the false god Apophis for the first time. In my arrogance I believed that those under his charge were unable to be of any threat to the system lords. It was with gladness that I was to change my mind when those same warriors fought by my side as well and as bravely as any Jaffa that I had ever come into conflict with.” “Meeting George Hammond, I was pleased to realise that he was a fair and good leader that kept his people well. Even with no reason to trust neither myself nor my own apprentice, he was willing to listen and assist us with what we needed to survive. Few, if any other races that I have come across would be so willing to stand beside a former enemy. Hammond of Texas and O’Neill have both mentioned a saying in the language of the Tau’ri. ‘My enemy’s enemy is my friend.’ My enemy was once anyone who would defy my god, now my enemy is anyone who could cause harm to my friends. Hammond of Texas was one of these few people that I could claim as a friend and he will be missed as that friend but also as a warrior and leader beyond few that I have known.” “For the people that knew him for far longer than myself, I grieve with you. He was a brother in arms responsible for leading those who would lead my people to their freedom from those who enslaved us. As a people we grieve for you as brothers and sisters. As a nation, we grieve with you as you would for the loss of a great man. Hammond of Texas will not be forgotten by the Jaffa people nor by those who will come after us, nor those who will come after them.” Bre’tac bowed his head. “I thank you for allowing me this chance to bid farewell to a friend. It is something I rarely have the chance to do.” Stepping down he approached the family of George Hammond and spoke quietly to the General’s sole surviving child No-one could hear the exchange but a brief and heartfelt smile appeared on the faces of both human woman and Jaffa male. Taking his leave the much older man retook his place in the second row allowing the next person to take their place at the front of the church. “I knew George Hammond for a great many years,” Sam Carter began. “As an old friend of my father he had been an aspect of my life for more than three decades. When I entered the Air Force, he willingly sponsored me as a favour to my father allowing me to enter the Academy at the same time as I attempted to complete my education. I didn’t see the General again for several years until well after beginning my training as a pilot. George Hammond commanded the tactical wing that was training the majority of pilots that had made it that far.” “All my life I had known him as Uncle George, then the Colonel, and the General. But even so he watched my career with interest until one day I was privileged enough to join a unit under his command. I didn’t know it at the time but it would change my life completely. General Hammond tapped me for a project that while I had been working on for several years had gone nowhere until then. Ten years later and I stand here saying goodbye to a man who helped to shape everything about my life and my career, a man that I owe a debt to that can never be repaid,” Sam teared up slightly. “I’ll miss you Uncle George, we’ll remember you." The rest of the ceremony continued on allowing the family of Hammond a chance to say a final goodbye before moving on. As much as it was a highly publicised event, the funeral itself wasn’t that long and within two hours the bearers walked up to the coffin before picked it up carefully. Shoulders locked and in step the six men walked down the central aisle of the church and out into the sunshine outside. Two long lines of mourners unable to get seats within the church were outside behind barriers were finally given the opportunity to give their final respects. High above out of sight of the mourners the Daedalus was constantly scanning the area for anything that would put a dampener on the day. So far, no signs of explosives, guns, energy weapons, chemicals or any other kind of weapon were in the area. It seemed that even the more hardliner types had decided against trying to martyr themselves at the funeral of one of the allied leaders. Settling the coffin on the gun wagon the bearers were joined by the significant others, close friends and family before they began walking behind the carriage. Hammond’s family was directly behind it with SG1 plus Davis, Harriman and Siler in two ranks behind them. The slow moving wagon passed through the throng of mourners. Soldiers from each of his commands stood to attention as they passed by, almost two hundred men and women holding a salute for their lost General. A minute later they passed by the military ranks and past civilian members of staff from the SGC, the IOA, Homeworld Security and simple well-wishers. Even with the knowledge that a number of people blamed Hammond and O’Neill for what happened during the first battles of the war few people were heartless or stupid enough to picket the funeral. Even several of the more vocal cults of the western world had stayed their hand leaving the man to rest in peace. *** “Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust.” The padre continued the funeral as the congregation stood around the plot, the bearers easing the coffin into place as he proceeded with the last rites. Most of the assembled around the grave bowed their head praying or otherwise paying respects to the General. *CRACK* Seven marines of the SGC’s third team stood to the side Colonel Reynolds in front of them ordering the twenty one gun salute to his former commanding officer. Twice more the rifles fired completing their work and standing back to full attention. A quick double click on a hidden radio transmitter in his glove Reynolds informed the Daedalus’ fighter wing to commence their run. Diving down from several thousand feet five F-302s, the Commanding Officers of the five United States Starfighter Wings flew past the funeral high enough to be respectful and low enough to be seen by the assembled crowd. As they flew above a single fighter pulled away from the formation as the rest continued on, a perfect missing man formation. It was a long-standing given to astronauts and pilots lost in action, or for heroes lost in any circumstance. Bowing their heads one last time the assembled friends and family prayed for the General before most began leaving the graveside. “Thank you, George,” Jack O’Neill whispered, “for everything.” The Crucible Eight and a half hours later. For Davis it had been far easier and faster to leave the funeral and wake than arriving, meaning that within half an hour of leaving he was back at the Crucible and his quarters. The loss of Hammond, the reports on the Hannibal and her imminent deployment, the usual fleet manoeuvres, and by no means least the long and difficult briefing with the IOA, meant that Davis was dead on his feet. Dropping down heavily on his bed Paul rubbed his face trying to stay awake as long as possible. Hammond had been a good man and had never had a problem with Davis’ position as a political appointee by the Pentagon to the SGC. In fact he had made him feel more than welcome during his time as liaison to the top secret project, more so when Paul had been detached from his position within the SGC/Pentagon office to the small but well funded Home world Security section. Two years later he had found himself as the defacto second in command of the Crucible and by and large Home world Security giving him a position of authority over personnel, one, two or even three ranks above him. It was only a few weeks into the job when he realised he had been groomed by both Generals, a job that he had been told was a temporary position for a year to integrate the defences and command structures of the Allied nations involved in the war. The year had come around and even with the relative completion of the Crucible and the shipyards close by there was no sign of a replacement. He hadn’t said anything yet but he believed that O’Neill and Hayes hadn’t bothered to find a replacement anyway. That both bothered Davis and made him feel vindicated in his job. If he wasn’t to be replaced then he wouldn’t push the matter. *WHAM WHAM WHAM* His eyes shot open after what seemed to be only moments later. Finding himself horizontal and face down on his duvet, he looked up at the softly glowing face of the clock on his bedside cabinet. Six hours had passed since he had returned to the Command Center and almost five and a half of that he had been asleep, unaware he had even dozed off. The Colonel stood up and opened his door to the equally tired looking face of his immediate superior. “Sir?” “Fall asleep, Colonel?” “Yes, sir.” “Yeah, same here.” O’Neill looked as weary as he felt. “Come on, we’ve got an appointment.” “Who with?” “Some French place and a guy called Jack,” O’Neill said as he waited for his exec to tidy himself up. He’d fallen asleep at his desk in uniform enough times to know that he’d not really look his best when they left. Hell, he’d been asleep in his dress uniform until a few minutes ago. Jack sighed as the younger officer fumbled for the slightly wrinkled uniform jacket. “Forget the uniform, just grab a jacket.” Grabbing a leather jacket from the back of a chair Paul walked out the door closing it behind him and followed the General through the tunnels of the underground command post and up to the transporter station. On their way up Jack explained the reasoning for the appointment and what was about to happen. Davis remembered the meetings only a few months ago and had readily agreed with the idea. Jack had obviously pre-planned this as it was only moments later that the two officers found themselves on the deserted and half-derelict Odyssey. Even at the dead of night, the station that the ship was still docked to was running at full capacity. The other ships of the fleet currently docked were undergoing supply or crew rotation. Three Apollos and a Prometheus could be seen on their side of the former colonial ship, however the area around and on the Odyssey itself was strangely silent and deserted. Davis looked around the bridge as his eyes adapted to the slightly brighter lights of the ship. Power being piped from the station allowed the lights to shine at maximum brightness very much unlike the usual dimmed lighting of an underway vessel. Several other people were already aboard the ship while another handful appeared in similar flashes of light on the other side of the bridge. “General, Colonel.” Sam Carter greeted them both, “Good to see you both.” “General.” Davis looked at her, the blonde looked as tired as the rest, the bags under her eyes slightly reddened from her tears. Sam had lost a long time friend and commander only a year or so after her father had passed. “You too Carter? Everyone here?” “Just waiting on Daniel, sir.” “Cool.” Paul surveyed the room as the two former team-mates spoke. Cassie and Jon were both looking out the windows of the bridge at the planet below not paying much attention to the rest of the goings on. Teal’c and his mentor were standing talking to Captains Satterfield, Grogan and Haley, while Quinn, Siler, Harriman and McKay were chatting about something or other. The gesturing of both the scientist and technician evidence that they had found that they agreed on whatever it was that they were talking about. Finally a last flash brought another figure onto the bridge completing the group. “Daniel, it’s about time.” “Sorry Jack. It seems that travelling so far so fast and attending a funeral didn’t agree with Narim. He’s asleep.” “Is he ok?” Sam asked. “He’s at the SGC infirmary, he’ll be alright,” Daniel confirmed. “We all here?” “Yep,” Jack announced. “Alright everyone, this is something that to be honest we were expecting but really hoped that we wouldn’t have to see anytime soon. Yesterday we lost a great man, someone who had been the guiding light of Stargate Command. His dedication and self sacrifice allowed us to keep on going even when our bosses kept trying to shut us down. Helping to build Home world Security before handing it over meant I didn’t have to do too much work when I took over. If I’d have known how it could change my life… I still might have thought of turning it down.” Gesturing to the window, he asked the assembled guests to assemble at the front of the bridge. Outside, a single new DSC-304 sat at the other end of the battle station. It’s hull the usual dark gray of the Tau’ri fleet but without the scars and patches that the rest of the fleet had in abundance. “She looks a little different,” Jon said. “She’s not the same as the others.” “Nope. She’s slightly bigger, faster and more has powerful engines both in hyperspace and out there,” Jack gestured. “We’ve scrapped all the missiles except the forward launchers and the drop bay underneath and added more guns instead. She has a double quartet of plasma cannon turrets on the flanks and pop up rail gun turrets in place of the missile launchers. The rest of the space is more ammo for the big guns and another reactor to run the rest. The Orbanians decided to throw in with us completely this time, they’ve been working on this version for years, but it’s a little tetchy.” “That’s quite a ship,” McKay replied. “Can we have one?” “Who’s her commander?” Sam asked ignoring him. “Don’t have one yet and maybe in a year or so, McKay. We need them back here.” “She’s a prototype so she won’t be in service for a while,” informed Davis, remembering a meeting with the Joint Chiefs as well as O’Neill and his then exec before Davis had taken his place. “About a year ago Home world Security created a dossier on possible names for the fleet. While most national fleets would end up with names that were more suited to their own naval vessels we wanted some that would end up named for something else. The Prometheus was followed by Daedalus then the Apollo and Phoenix, the British have named theirs for former heroic vessels, the Russians and Chinese for historical figures. However in recent months we’ve tried to steer away from the usual political options of former Presidents or other historical figures in order to make sure we don’t alienate too many people. But, a small smattering of names was kept because of their connections to the fleet and its precursors.” Jack smiled for the first time. “We needed something to show the world that we’re fighting together against a common enemy. Right now the Russians are demanding a raid on the Colonial capital planet with a barrage of Mark IXs, China want to beam troops behind enemy lines as raiding parties, and our own congress want to keep our heads buried in the sand and blast the hell out of our enemies without leaving the solar system.” O’Neill stepped over to the left hand control console and pressed a button on the main board. “With that in mind and with the agreement of the President, the rest of the Joint Chiefs, the Heads of States and senior command staff of the British, Chinese, French and Russian Fleets one ship of every country’s next production flight will be secured by Home world Security and merged into a single command. The Phoenix was to be the flagship of the new combined fleet with another four ships joining her in the next eight months, A Russian Daedalus, one each of the British modified classes from the UK and Canada and a French Prometheus. The entire group will be dedicated to taking the fight to the Colonials while the rest of the fleet will stay at home.” the IOA don’t know about that bit yet.” Jack’s predatory smile was one of pure evil. “You said it was to be the flagship Jack?” Daniel asked as another flash of light appeared next to O’Neill. “What happened?” “Life happened Daniel. The name Phoenix is no longer on the records as a ship of the Earth fleet.” Jack picked up a flute of champagne from the recently arrived tray and handed it to Daniel, the others all took one each or handed them to the others. “The Phoenix as she was was still undergoing final outfitting and supply before her shakedown. Most of her ident codes, paint jobs etc aren’t yet in place so we changed its name to fit with the new fleet.” “Usually it's bad luck to rename a ship once it's been completed but I think that the change will bring us a lot more luck than we've got at the moment. Knowledge of the ship’s new mission and name will be disseminated from the Crucible to the other defence bases and the world at large when she’s commissioned in a few weeks." "So with that over with Ladies, Gentleman and Jaffa, I give to you the newest and most powerful Daedalus Class Deep Space Carrier in the fleet.” He raised his glass towards the brand new and unbloodied DSC-304. “The General George Hammond.”
Ash's Boomstick. CH_21c -.TheHub-_ Resurrection; Natalie, Nightmares; Warstar Hades; Georgiou, Conoy&Prior, Krychek&Augustine Resurrection Hub Unknown System Cylon Space-Four months Earlier She felt it again as something punched through her stomach the force crushing the very life from her body as if something squeezed and ruptured her delicate organs as it ripped a scream of agony from her throat before it pulled up tearing through her chest destroying her heart. Blackness took over as she looked at the face of her attacker, a human face with a snarling smirk triumphant in its actions. Natalie sat up in shock her body shaking and exhausted chest heaving from the nightmare, resting her right hand above her heart making sure that it was there and still in one piece. Taking a deep breath she brushed sweat soaked hair from her face. Whatever had happened on the destroyed Basestar had been horrific if the memory was still managing to find its way through from what passed for a Cylon’s subconscious. It was something that they hadn’t been expecting when they had been transferred from their purely mechanical bodies to this cyborg existence. It seemed that while a percentage of her main memory had been lost in the transfer, almost the entirety of her subconscious had survived. “Nightmare?” One of the other threes sat up from beside her. “We all get them after resurrection.” “This was the first time I’d been through a forced resurrection instead of being ready for it,” Natalie replied. “I didn’t realise it would be so difficult.” “It can be, especially considering how difficult it was to bring you back from the ether,” the Three said rubbing the taller woman’s back. “What was it about?” “The attack on the Basestar, we must have been boarded somehow.” Natalie closed her eyes resting her fingers against them gently. “The Eight took a bullet to the head almost decapitating her. Someone punched something into my stomach ripping me apart. I felt the pain again as it killed me. I saw a face, a human face leering at me as he did it.” “Wait! A human did this?” One of the Fours spoke from the doorway. “Sorry I heard you from the corridor.” “It’s okay,” Natalie replied. “The Colonials hit my ship as soon as we reverted from the jump. We barely got any shots off before their fighters annihilated our weapons.” Her eyes widened as the impact of this possibility came clear to her. In shock, she looked at Three and Four. “They were on board the ship, they know about us.” “Frak, if they know we biological models exist…” Four began. “Then they will be on the lookout for us now,” Three finished. “How many models were on your ship?” “Just me and an Eight.” “We need to contact the rest of the models. The Sixes and Eights might have been compromised. We need to get them out of the colonies before someone manages to pin them down,” Four replied. “I’ll inform the home world and the resurrection ships for possible mass download.” “This can’t be happening,” Natalie whispered. “We’ve barely started infiltrating the colonies and now we’ll have to start again somehow.” “There are only a few of your line and even less of the Eights; the colonials have almost fifty billion people to check through. If it’s bad enough that we have to pull them all out we can reintroduce them after a few years.” Three replied, “It’s not your fault. You couldn’t have known the Colonials would find you so fast.” “But how did they find us? The ship was running silent and we were outside of Colonial lines. They had no reason to be there and no reason to think that we were ready to approach the Tau’ri. Why were there enough fighters there to destroy one of our heaviest ships?” “Maybe they had units all around that area. They must have believed we’d try to talk to the Tau’ri once we knew of them. After all they must be scared of an alliance between the Cylon Race and the Earth Humans.” “Maybe, but what can we do? The humans of the twelve colonies know about us. Every infiltration, every project and every plan we have ready will have to be cancelled ruining everything we’ve done in the last year.” Natalie sighed. “It is my fault, we’ve been waiting decades for this chance and now it’s all gone up in smoke.” “Why would you have taken the Basestar on the mission without permission Natalie? You’re one of our best infiltrators.” “I didn’t, at least I don’t remember it that way. I remember being allowed to do so by a consensus.” “The home world says otherwise,” the returning Four announced as he entered the room. “We’ve entered orbit.” Warstar Hades Decommissioned Colonial Class Warstar Nova Madigon Bone yards “So are we done here? The Admiralty wants this thing pulled out of the yard for rebuilding at Caprica. We’ve been waiting months for you people to finish your work.” “Alright, yes we’ve got everything that we can get out of this thing. She’ll be released to you within the day,” Colonel Georgiou replied. “I need you to understand that if anybody says a word about what was found here, they will be rounded up and charged with dissemination of classified information. I will then have them shot.” “Alright Colonel, listen carefully. We are professionals and very good at our jobs. The fact is that the only reason you know about this stuff is because we found and let you know about it. Maybe next time the JAG and your cronies in the guard service will find out whoever stole this shit before they can sell it. Now get off my ship I’ve got work to do.” “Alright, the ship’s yours but if you find anything we might have missed you inform the local JAG office at Caprica and they’ll let me know.” “Yeah, alright. Oh, and you ever try to threaten my men again and I’ll thump you into the deck plate.” At the other end of the now completely empty flight pod, the members of the original team looked at each other as their boss turned from the JAG officer and headed their way. The Sagitatton native was steaming at the implication that his people would be hiding or willing to hide anything that they found. The threat at the end was not only unnecessary but it had left the Chief fighting to keep from punching the man, officer or not. “Alright, people. We’ve got the go to move this junk pile. Get up to CIC and run the program. Conoy, Prior, you come with me we need to get this thing moving.” The Twenty man crew dispersed to their assigned stations ignoring the JAG officers as they hustled into their shuttles and readied for takeoff. A last few would use a larger ship docked to one of the outside airlocks. Once undocked, the hatches would automatically seal. Leaving the cavernous bays the salvage team trudged their way through kilometres of corridors and walkways to get to their destinations. Almost two hours later the miniscule team had managed to bring the necessary systems online. The months of work dodging the forensics teams, shoring up failing relays and replacing blown components the salvage teams that had assisted them had got the old girl in good enough shape to bring her online and ready for launch. “All sections this is engineering, the main energy systems are operational,” the first group called over the comms. “Primary Tylium generator at fifty percent. I don’t want to risk any more than that, Boss.” “CIC is online, network systems are active. FTL course is input and ready.” “This is FTL control, we’re ready to go. Set the clock,” the Chief ordered. “Ten seconds to jump; program is running.” Moments later the Warstar and its small crew jumped from the bone yards to its destination, one that it wasn’t expecting to be. Mere moments after arrival the Warstar powered down, the computers erasing themselves before closing off the DRADIS and main power systems.” “Uhh boss, we got a problem.” “Dammit! What the frak are you idiots doing up there?” The chief shouted. “We’re down to emergency power.” “Everything’s shut down except the emergency systems and the comms… and we’ve got three Battlestars with guns pointing right at us.” “Where the hell did we jump then?” “I dunno, boss. You wanna come up here and ask?” the voice came back. “I’m not even gonna think about touching anything up here.” “Alright, I’ll be fifteen minutes. We need to get the trams fixed on this damn thing.” Ten minutes later and almost three quarters of the way to the other end of the ship the entire Warstar shuddered, causing the FTL crew to look at each other before increasing speed to the CIC. Another few minutes passed as they made their way through the central corridors of the ship to the far end, pausing only to open up sealed doorways. By the time the three had arrived most of the rest of the crew were already there. “Boss?” “Yeah, I know they’ve docked.” “Yeah they wanted us to let them in.” “And?” “I said I needed to wait for you to get back. You’re the boss…Boss.” “Alright put me on the comms.” He picked up the phone. “Hello.” “This is Commander Augustine of the Battlestar Valiant heading Battlestar Group 73.” “Chief Warrant Officer Krychek of Colonial Fleet Salvage Team Nineteen, guess you were expecting us.” “Affirmative Chief, sorry about this but your people are to head to the ground forces barracks officer’s quarters and lock yourself in there. The ship will then be crewed by fleet personnel and you will be escorted elsewhere, please do not look out of any windows, portholes or try to get the DRADIS active as you are now in a very restricted area and any attempt to find out where you are will result in permanent incarceration.” “Received Commander… mind if I ask you a question, sir?” “Make it quick.” “Which continent, sir?” Krychek could almost hear the smile in the other man’s voice as he spoke. “Eastern Chief, Trojan City.” “Thank you, sir. We’ll get right on it.” “You too Chief, Valiant Actual out.” “That was weird,” Prior said. “We gonna do as he said boss…Boss?” “Yes we do as he said. Everyone grab your gear and head for the officers quarters in the barracks,” The Chief replied. “Conoy take big mouth here and grab the food stocks from the hanger bay. I don’t know how long we’re gonna be here.” “Yes, Boss.” “Big mouth I… ahhh!” Prior’s voice shrieked higher and then out of range as Conoy grabbed him by the neck pulling him out the CIC door. Letting go of the other man Leoben stalked down the corridor. Out of all the things he was expecting, to be thrown into what was basically a gilded cage not knowing where they were and without the Chief putting up a fight wasn't something he was expecting. “What the hell’s wrong with you?” Prior shouted rubbing his neck. “That frakking hurt.” “Then shut up before you get hurt again,” Conoy snapped. A few minutes passed as they continued down to the hanger bay before they were pulled back to the ship’s marine section. “I wanna know why the Chief was willing to give that up without a fight,” Prior complained. “The Marine Barracks are in worse condition that the rest of the ship. Remember that rotting whatever it was we found in the showers or what about the fact someone hadn’t cleaned out the fridge.” “He gave it up because he talked to a Commander he respected,” Conoy racked his brain. “The Valiant… Valiant…” “Type Three Beta, heavier missile batteries than the Alphas,” Prior said as his friend looked at him incredulously. “Alright, so I know the difference between the types of ship, what the big deal?” “You’re a spotter.” Conoy grinned. “What?” “You’re a ship spotter. I bet you can tell me when she was built and where.” “No…” “Prior…” “Caprica Yards, three years ago.” “I knew it,” Leoben laughed out loud. “This why you joined the salvage teams?” “Alright, yes it is; you got me. But look at some of these things man, history come alive and now we’re getting to look them over to see if we can bring them back into service. There are millions of people who want to be where I am right now. Even in a half scrapped, thirty year old ship the people I know people I talk to would be willing to bribe, kill or sleep with me for a chance to walk around this thing.” Prior gestured around him. “Living history in one piece, man. Look at it.” “It’s a broken down old Warstar, Dave.” Leoben shook his head. “The damn thing’s barely moving as it is. Now come on we’ve got food to get.” “Yeah, but I know something else. I know who its Commander is.” “Yeah I heard, Augustine.” “Yeah and the city he’s from.” “Trojan City… wait, he’s Sagittaron?” “Yeah, why do you think the boss was so willing to talk to him and obey his orders?” The two men passed through a last hatch into a small area the team had grabbed for themselves while rebuilding and reactivating the necessary systems to get the ship going. Boxes and bags of supplies were dumped onto a trolley while water pitchers, bottle and a few more ‘contraband’ bits and pieces that they had brought on board, or found while running around. Conoy carefully pulled a bottle from a cubbyhole he had left it in away from everyone else carefully unwrapping it from the plastic and cloth he had wrapped it in. While mooching around the lower decks he had found the original CAG’s office before its last refit which moved it closer to the port side of the ship instead of the ridiculous idea of putting it almost in the middle of the ship. Brushing a hand over the bottle he traced the year of the bottle, the same year that the Cylon war had begun. A strange feeling came over him as he looked at the bottle, almost as if it wasn't real. But, he blinked away the thought before covering the bottle back up and stashing it in one of the boxes. Their personal gear was already back aboard the shuttles that brought their supplies aboard but he wouldn't trust the main line fleeters not to help themselves to something they found and could claim was left behind. "Alright, we've got all the stuff we have left. Food, Drink, the Chief's damn cigars and anything else I thought might be useful. Should we grab a fridge while we're at it?" "No time. The fled will be boarding soon," Conoy replied. "Let's just move it." Taking longer than the first trip the two crewmen pulled, pushed and dragged the trolley through the corridors before the crews of the docking ships began to pour through the airlocks. They barely made it to the marine quarters before sealing the doors. Leaning back against the door they could hear the boots of several of the newly arrived fleet personnel thundering past and down the corridors towards the engines. "Frak, that was close." Prior said looking around the empty bunk room. "Boss?" "In here." The voice came from the mess room at the rear the chief looked up as the two men walked in having left the trolley out next to the bunks and dropping into their chairs. "You two look like shit." "We just missed our stop, had to find a cab,” Conoy snarked. “We’ve got the gear in the bunk room. What’s in here?” “Nothing, not even mattresses.” “Great.” Conoy rolled his eyes. “What now?” “Now we wait.” The Chief laid back in his chair relaxing. “Nothing else to do.” “Yeah, but they want us to stay here. Shouldn’t we ask for something to sleep on maybe?” “Use the bunks.” “With no mattress or blankets?” Prior complained. “Then what?” “We stay here until we’re relieved or told to leg it. We’ve got an FTL shuttle still down in the hanger so we’ll leave when we’re told to.” Krychek nodded at the chairs and then the table with a pyramid deck on it. “Now sit down and deal the cards.” None of them noticed the slight shiver that went through their compatriot before he sat down at the table and scooped up his hand. Furthermore none of them noticed the flicker of uncertainty and discomfort that went through his eyes. Least of all Conoy himself. CIC Warstar Hades Colonial Class Warstar Deep Space Six hours later “The ship is secure, sir. The salvage team are secure in the marine quarters as you ordered,” Augustine spoke into the phone attached to his desk. “All necessary sections are manned. It’ll take a while to search every single nook and cranny of this thing but we’ll be sure that there are no tracking devices of any kind.” “Good, there have been far too many people on that ship in the last six months. Anything could have been put aboard.” Admiral Ah-mun responded from his command ship. “The salvage crew are to be put off at the first chance. If necessary jump the Warstar to one of the outer planets and put them and their shuttle off there. You are not to allow them to know where you are going nor where that ship is being transferred to.” “I would like the chance to have them checked over. In addition to my own salvage teams, the team managed to rebuild enough of the Warstar’s systems to move it from the Cimtar Yards out here with enough power to return it back to the station while being given the end-run by the White-Caps.” “Alright James, I’ll give you that chance but not right now. Put them off near Madeline Station and then get that ship back to base. I’ll send the request when we send off the next set of reports back home.” “Yes, sir.” “Warrior Actual out.” “Mister Kraif, please bring up a jump course to Madeline Station and take us there as soon as possible. I’ll be meeting with the salvage team in their quarters,” Ah-Mun ordered. “Order the Valiant alongside and send them the course.” “It’ll be a few minutes, Sir. The main course charts are still being installed.” “Very well, continue as ordered.” Several minutes later the Commander found himself outside the Marine officer quarters and tapped on the door. As the door opened he was gestured in by the off-duty crewmen. Like almost every other capital ship in the Colonial fleet the Warstar was a massive and heavily built ship. As such, what space was available inside the solid, thick hull was at a premium and the marine barracks more so than the fleet barracks. The majority of the marines slept in large scale accommodation. Hundreds fit into a space that barely one hundred crewmen were supposed to fit due to the belief that the Marines wouldn’t need as much space. That erroneous supposition was because it was assumed they wouldn’t be on board for long enough to need anything more. The Cylon War had changed that belief, allowing for more space to be allocated from shipboard marines and army personnel attached to the vessels of the fleet. The expansion of the Marine fleet during and post war however had changed the need for anything more than a smaller detachment on board the fleet capital ships. Even the officers, including their senior officer, had also stayed in smaller accommodations of between two and six to a berth. Looking around, the Commander could see the smaller rooms to the sides with a separate mess hall and galley. A weapons locker was open and a few odds and sods already stashed away to get them off the floor. The rest were still in boxes off to the side. Looking back up at the crewmen, he strode through the doorway and came face to face with his fellow Sagittaron Native “Warrant Officer Krychek.” “Sir.” “At ease Mister. My orders are to gather your people and situate you back on your shuttle before sending you home.” “This ship was supposed to be going to Caprica.” “Yes it was, now it’s headed elsewhere. I apologise for your treatment but it couldn’t be helped,” Augustine replied. “Once we have jumped, you’ll be able to head back to the Salvage Corps HQ on Sagittaron.” “Yes sir, anything else?” “No that’s about it. Thank you for your time.” “Anytime, sir.” “I may well hold you to that, Mister.” *** Barely a dozen or two meters away a small splash followed a flush of the toilet, a small flashing light disappeared into the recycling system before anyone could see it. Standing up from where he had heaved then vomited the tracker into the bowl. The blank faced dead eyes figure of Leoben Conoy stared at the mirror on the wall before shaking his head and coming to. “Whoa, what?” He blinked at his surroundings in confusion before noticing a small amount of bile left on the refilling latrine. Still slightly bewildered at his sudden appearance he walked out of the latrines slightly addled. “Next time say no to Prior’s cooking.” End of Book 1 Finally got there at the end, every thread that I have left that I needed to tie up to a certain point have finally made it to that point. The next book will begin with a time jump of six weeks or so into the future to push the story along. I believe that 25 chapters and around three hundred thousand words is good for any story, let alone one that wasn’t supposed to last more than sixty of seventy to begin with, the story is far from over I just believe here and now is the best time to end the first volume of the story. I haven’t decided whether to start a new thread/story post on the websites that I have this published on but I am still writing and should have another up sooner or later (hopefully sooner), so let’s plough on and see what happens.
Ash's Boomstick. CH_22a .Geneva -_ IOA; Davis&Hughes, StarFighter, SagittaronVirus, FitzPOW, Leclerc; Gina&Howard, EarthViruses, Ronson, Subspace, ReconPICs Book Two Chapter 1 (22) SIX WEEKS LATER IOA Headquarters Geneva Well that could have gone better. “No absolutely not, there is no way in hell that this can be allowed,” the chairman bellowed. “I have to agree, this is out of the question,” another replied, “The problems that are already obvious with the number of different command structures in the combined armed forces has already caused problems with the defence of this world, now you expect us to agree on another command structure above and beyond that we have.” “Councillor, the First Fleet is the first step to combining as many of the forces as we can gather into a complete and stable command. If the ships of this fleet are able to work in concert as a cornerstone of the Earth’s defences then other squadrons will be formed and attached to that group.” Davis looked to each of the assembled IOA. “The fact is that we have tacit approval by the United States Air Force, Royal Air Force and Royal Navy, People Republic of China, the Canadian Armed Forces, and the German Republic Navy to add other ships to a combined command if the experiment will succeed.” Paul had been arguing the case for the combined defence force for more than a week of meeting across the world, the completion of four of the assigned ships and their working up had taken up even more time for the Crucible and its personnel. As the exec, he had been at the forefront of the new command structure, helping to rebuild one section or another to incorporate the first fleet. Fortunately the idea of fleet actions had been built into the plans for the Command Centre and the secondary command section was easily transferred for purely fleet use. The problem was simply that the IOA members didn’t like the idea of a combined command involving vessels belonging to their countries, a problem that was mirrored by more than one of the commanders of the countries involved. It had taken several months and a hell of a lot of favours owed and pulled in to allow for even the small number of ships now in the fleet to be given the go ahead. Even with the final outfitting going ahead there were still problems crewing and keeping those crews aboard the Defence Force warships. Several believed that it would be detrimental to their countries and their security to allow officers of other nation’s command of their warships or starfighters. Problems already existed with the main commands being wholly controlled by the United States and United Kingdom with the next layer of ground defences being controlled by the nations that receive them. More complaints had been made from other countries about the fact that their enemies would have access to weapons that could be used against them as much as it could against a Colonial attack. The Hammond and its assigned ships would still be added to a single flotilla but under a commander chosen by the Crucible instead of a political appointee that the IOA would force on them. However it was already obvious that in order to continue the expansion of the idea that the IOA would need to be brought over to their way of thinking, the end-runs that the SGC and HWS had already pulled on the Oversight Authority was beginning to erode the power that they had over the space based forces. While the countries involved were for the most part unwilling to turn down any request for personnel, supplies or equipment needed by the fleet there would come a time where the politicos in the higher ranks of the IOA would start to have sway over those same forces again. After only fifteen months after the attack the world was still attempting to make good the damage caused to the planet by the nukes. Entire cultures had been wiped out across the world including much of the Mediterranean and a small number of smaller islands throughout the world. The people were demanding to be protected and none of the countries involved in the military build up were willing to say no to more warships, however the damage done to the relationship between the armed forces and the oversight council could make things problematic as the war progressed. As such Colonel Davis had agreed to go before the IOA council in an attempt to persuade them to agree to the expansion of the fleet into a single command. “Tacit approval is not complete agreement Colonel. The ships of the fleet are currently held by those governments alone and many will not allow their own fleets to merge into one force. I agree that we need to create a combined command structure as we have seen in other wars but I disagree that we require what you ask,” the Chinese member replied. “This would create far more problems than it would solve at the moment. Have you considered the problems that a combined doctrine would require, training by the fighter squadrons attached to those ships? What about the logistics required by those same ships, how would you continue to have those countries resupply them while under another’s command?” “The five ships will be commissioned at the same time and the crews are already undergoing training in combined operations. As we speak, the fighter groups will take more time but currently the United States has volunteered to arm all necessary ships with their own fighters from the ground based Third Starfighter Wing until an air wing of the right size and capability is trained up to replace them.” “That is an intriguing idea,” Hughes replied steeling his fingers. He however spoke as the American ambassador to the IOA instead of as the chairman. “I assume that this is an order from the Crucible or General O’Neill.” “A request went out to several squadrons for this project, the Third United States Starfighters wing included. The majority of those pilots requested space-bound duty and therefore were chosen for this deployment. Once the First Combined Force Wing is operational they will replace the Third American Wing. The logistics will continue as they currently are via resupply by their respective countries.” “So if this is already in place why have you decided to request this meeting Colonel? It has been proven time and again that the armed forces that we supposedly have oversight of have been doing as they wished even without our permission or even informing us,” Hughes said quietly. “The fact is that we have been all but set aside as the United States and its allies have been building their forces and co-opting others to assist them. The launch of the Houdini system and its command centre was place in the United Kingdom instead of where it was ordered deployed in Geneva under international control. However we have come to the conclusion that the instructions given in regards to the raider fleet may have been in error and that we agree would have been a mistake.” Davis kept his poker face still as his mind began churning. Politicians, especially the kinds that seemed to make up the IOA command structure were usually unwilling to admit to any kind of mistake, especially one of this magnitude. Whoever had decided that the smaller and less capable ships should be used had only told the ambassadors what they wanted to hear and not what they needed to. He stopped and thought hard. It seemed that the ambassadors were finally willing to listen to the people actually fighting the war instead of whichever overpaid hacks they had on the payroll. To Davis, that was hope that they would allow the Crucible a more free hand as opposed to the micromanagement that they had forced on the myriad of defences that were springing up on an almost weekly basis. “Thank you. We also freely admit that we made a mistake in beginning the formation of this command without informing the IOA but not in the actual creation of it. Several historical accounts prove the ability of allied units working in concert including several within the last hundred years, the ABDA Command in the Pacific, the invasion force during Operation Overlord and the United Nation Peacekeeping Forces during the Korean Conflict and Desert Shield,” Davis pointed out. “What we have at the moment is the chance to show the Colonials that a united Earth is now a very real threat to them. The Twelve Colonies of Kobol are a single political and military entity with the ability to out build and outman our forces by an incredible margin.” “The ABDA command was crippled and then all but destroyed within a few months of assembling against the Japanese leaving the United States to practically run the entire show down there.” Hughes snorted. “The same with Desert Shield, and D-Day was practically a British show and Korea was a clusterfuck as much as anything else, almost none of them were a real joint command Lt Colonel.” The Chinese representative shook his head. “And didn’t one of your own reports claim that the Twelve Colonies are now almost down to ten due to the actions of the fleet.” “Our single major attack on the Colonies devastated one of their largest and most productive shipyards; the damage done afterwards we couldn’t have seen coming. The majority of the damage done to the planet of Picon was due to their own munitions and fuels in orbit. Our own weapons vaporised or blew apart most of the main structure throwing it into an unstable orbit around the planet Picon.” The Colonel locked eyes with the Russian then the British and Chinese delegates. “A combined command structure would require a Commodore or Admiral in charge of the fleet, this would depend on who is the best suited and experienced for a job like this. Most of the countries involved here have worked together several times over their respective histories and can do again if we ask them to.” Davis squared his shoulders and looked at each man and woman in turn. “In regards to the virus ravaging their people, we had no authorisation to use biological weapons and as such the Odyssey and her flight of F-302s had no form of bioweapons on board. The transmission intercepted by our sole remaining probe has the Colonials calling it the Tau’ri Plague believing we infected them with the virus.” “Hence the information we’ve received about the possibility of a second world falling to what is supposedly an unknown variable?” The Russian man asked. “The world Sagittaron has been hit with a higher level of illness than some of the others. Although a smaller population than others they are spread out a lot more and with survivors of Picon settling there the virus has spread throughout their biosphere. At last count twenty five percent of their total population have died with another ten percent strong enough to cope with the illness. The majority of losses are in the elderly or very young much like on our own world.” “With that small a population I would have thought it higher.” “Initially a number were, sir, mostly those in the built up cities and towns the rest we believe were able to combat it due to their locations and hardier constitutions. Illnesses not currently seen on Earth might be responsible for this but unless we actually have a lab on the ground there’s no way to tell.” “So if we didn’t drop a bioweapon who did?” “We aren’t sure. It could have been bioweapons on board the station or in bunkers on the planet. Either would allow their own ships to load and distribute Nuclear, Chemical or biological weapons to their Battlestars or other capital ships. However we have been able to equate the symptoms with an Earth based illness and the probability of an infection vector.” “So we did drop something?” The Frenchman said confused. “But you said…” “Yes Sir, I did. There was no virus bomb, no form of biological infection agent on board except in one place.” “And that was?” Having an idea that several tangents would have to be brought to heel had made Paul slightly paranoid; as such he had more than a few ideas up his sleeve. As they watched Colonel Davis popped a pen drive into the familiar computer on the desk in front of him, a moment later both a medical and military record was brought up on the desk’s screen as well as the wall mounted plasma screen. “This is Flight Lieutenant William Fitzgerald of the Royal Air Force attached to the British 633rd Squadron out of RAF Marham. As the Royal Air Force's First Space Combat Squadron, it was one of a number of crippled squadrons during our battle against the Colonials last year. Due to the immense losses and damaged craft afterwards the best of what was left were assigned to the Odyssey, Flight Lieutenant Fitzgerald and his wingman Major Luc Gerard of Armee de L’air found themselves under attack by a force of vipers during the assault.” Gun camera footage from at least two F-302 were played on the screen forcing them to watch as one 302 took damage then the other playing bait against the Vipers, allowing the other man to return to the Odyssey at the cost of his own life. The footage ended as the 302 swept out of sight. “The medical report on your terminals shows that Fitzgerald had suffered a mild case of influenza prior to the battle. While still fighting off the virus he was capable of flying in the battle and its aftermath. Either way if he survived the battle or not the Colonials had a virulent infection vector in the body of the Flight Lieutenant. If it was a virus that they haven’t seen before then their bodies wouldn’t have any kind of defence against it.” “And the flu virus mutates anyway,” Leclerc replied. “That makes sense, especially if it is one of ours responsible.” “So they either have the body or a prisoner of war?” McClusky reiterated. “Which means that if he’s still alive, then the Colonials have access to information we don’t want them to have, especially in regards to the misinformation campaign we’ve already begun.” “So we now have the security risk of a captured pilot?” Hughes asked. “Given the possibility of captured pilots or crew the information that each would have access to would be routinely changed, during wartime command codes and security clearances are rotated on a weekly or monthly basis. The only real danger is the Colonials finding out that the ‘documentaries’ that they claim as our history, aren’t real.” Paul wasn’t exactly sure where the disinformation campaign was going as it wasn’t his usual field of expertise. “But given the fact we have thousands of hours of previous transmissions as well as a number of custom made episodes they wouldn’t believe Fitzgerald if he told them the truth.” “We will need your people to look into this Colonel, I believe that the pilots all have a tracking chip implant is that correct?” “Yes Sir. The first wave of ships we send against the enemy system will drop a number of probes. Several of which will be able to scan for the identity chip and the possibility that the pilot may still be alive. If not then we at least should be able to recover what’s left.” “Good, now as we have digressed a little, we should return to the basis of this meeting and what we are going to do to about this now command.” A far more relaxed Hughes retook control. “The fact is Colonel is that you as Homeworld Command’s executive officer should have brought this up long ago, if you had any thought of giving the IOA a say in what is going to happen to those ships. Since your superior decided to insult and threaten this international body Homeworld Security, and the heads of naval commands of the allied navies have decided to ignore our order and requests when they want to, any attempt we could make would end up with one or more laughing at our complaints and work to erode our power base.” Leaning forward, the American faced his countryman and looked him in the eyes closely. Paul wasn’t stupid and after almost twenty years in the political arena and more than ten in and around the black projects programs, he was well aware he was being set up and had very little chance to turn it around on the other man. Steeling himself, he relaxed his usual mask and leaned forward; his hands clasped in front of his mouth before speaking. “As you are aware, Councillor General O’Neill was under immense strain at the time, a combination commanding a facility running several war fronts as well as attempting to control the homeworld defences and increase the firepower. At the same time, we had just faced an enemy that had blown through our first line of defence and was still heading straight for Earth,” Davis replied just as genially. “At that time, the rules of engagement against the enemy were to allow Homeworld Command to use whatever means it deemed necessary to protect this planet. The General followed the rules of engagement to the letter by co-opting all known defensive measures against any enemy.” “Yes, but the Hive ship wasn’t stopped by the fleet, was it?” Leclerc smirked nastily. “It took the effort of an allied ship to destroy that monstrosity; leaving the fleet looking more than a little impotent wouldn’t you say?” “At the time, we had no idea if the Asgard would be willing to use one of their heavy warships to defend Earth. It was the General’s personal request to Supreme Commander Thor that had his put his ship in the way. The remaining vessels in the fleet would have stopped the Hive, but at immense cost in lives and materiel.” Paul refused to let the blindness of the politicians annoy him any more than he already was. “Once again you will find that General O’Neill kept to within the boundaries of operational necessity in making that request. The defence force we have currently includes the O’Neill Class vessel in orbit as well as the gift of two smaller Beliskners that we are currently using to bolster our fleet until more of our large vessels come online. Once we have enough ships one of the Asgard ships will be taken apart for reverse engineering.” “Why haven’t the Asgard simply given us the technical specifications for those vessels instead?” The Frenchman interrupted, “Surely it would be far easier to understand the technology if we had the blueprints to their vessels.” “Currently the Asgard are using all their time and resources to construct their ‘Ark’ for lack of a better term. The time required to rewrite and translate the original specifications to their ships would be substantial. In addition, a substantial amount of their technology uses materials that our own fabrication techniques will find it impossible to replicate.” “I’m not being ungracious Colonel, but how do we know this? The Asgard while being allies have kept a lot from us even after garnering our assistance against their enemies,” Leclerc interrupted again. “Giving us a pair of several hundred year old vessels seems a bit weak considering the power that their newer ships have. Even with their assistance to improve the shielding and hyperdrives on our own they seem to be leaving us to protect those worlds in the Protected Planets Treaty without any way of enforcing it.” This was it. Paul had been expecting something like this since the Asgard had made their request. The IOA had agreed to the deal in good faith but as usual had been expecting something for their assistance. The supercomputer would be settled into orbit on the near side of the sun allowing the Earth based scanners and telescopes to keep watch over the huge construct. The first part of the structure was already in place something described by Jack O’Neill as an Asgard Death Star. Now that the Asgard were close to finishing their project, the IOA seemed to be hemming and hawing about keeping their word – nothing overtly evident, but more a feeling that they weren’t completely at ease with another race occupying a part of the Solar System, even one that had been as close an ally as the Asgard race. “As I said, the majority of their technology is incompatible with our own and so what we have is what we can safely use. Some of our people are going through the information. We’ve already been given but right now we aren’t in any position to use the knowledge we’ve gained to date.” Davis kept control of the conversation. The IOA was good at what they knew but had no clue as to what was necessary right now. “The technology currently equipping our Daedalus class ships are thousands of years behind the top of the line for the Asgard simply because there is no way to adapt our own systems to theirs. We’re trying to enhance our naquada generators but we’re rapidly reaching the maximum capacity of what we can build with our own materials. However, a recent meeting with the Asgard has given us a new construction system that was used to build up the Asgard worlds and fleet during the last few years. It should increase our ability to build warships by three times cutting construction time down to six months per ship. We can build the Apollos even faster.” “What about materials science Colonel? We are aware of the ability of our ships to take significant weapons fire before damage sets in but we’ve been informed that the Asgard have better hulls than we could hope to have.” “Yes Sir but that is beyond our ability to build or use. The Asgard materialise their hull material from the basic elements that make up the structure. Right now we don’t have the power or computing capacity to use that knowledge or technology. In addition to that, the Asgard use a mass lightening field beyond our comprehension to move their ships. An O’Neill class ship is heavier than our entire fleet put together.” “Oh.” The Frenchman rubbed his face. “I apologise Colonel, I did not realise just how behind the other races we are.” “We’ve been lucky, sir. The majority of the technology we’ve reverse engineered was designed originally by the Alteran Race. Even millions of years apart they seemed to think a lot like we did, making it easier to understand their ideas. The Asgard don’t think the same way and it makes it very difficult to understand their ideas.” “Very well. Thank you, Colonel.” Leclerc finished. “Back to the matter at hand, Colonel. The plan for an integrated command while on paper a good idea, I can’t see it working as you envisage. The ships would already have agreed on will be used for this project but that’s it we can’t take the risk of conflicting loyalties when we’re in the middle of a war. Maybe in the future it’ll work but for now I don’t think so,” Hughes finished. “Thank you for bringing this to our attention, you are dismissed.” ‘Yeah,” he thought. ‘That could have gone a hell of a lot better.’ Cylon POW Camp Undisclosed Location Earth Gina looked up at the sky as she felt the first specks of rain fall down onto her face. Closing her eyes, she breathed in the dampness of the air, feeling the closeness of the humidity before the thunderstorm would start. Even now after a year, she couldn’t get enough of the outside. Being ‘born’ on a basestar, then spending most of her training inside the war college, then in fighters, and then finally an entire year aboard the Pegasus she had had little to no chance to experience the outside world. It had been a few months before she and her brothers and sisters had been allowed outside from their imprisonment, the slightly harsher heat of summer near this planet's equator had been easy enough for the Cylons to survive, but once the Colonials had been moved off world the POW camp had become the Cylons new home. With most of them coming around to the idea that not every human seemed obsessed with destroying their race, several had been willing to liaise with the Tau’ri. Almost everything the Cylons knew about the Colonies and their people had been disseminated to the specialist teams that had debriefed Gina and her people. Treated according to the Earth-borns conventions of war, they were treated far better as it became obvious that the Cylons were willing to assist the Tau’ri as much as they could. The POW camp had been modified by the Tau’ri and Cylons both making it far more comfortable. A few rounds of inoculations and some exposure to the outside world had meant that fewer of them had died of the human’s myriad illnesses than the Colonials had. The other Cylons had best described the world of Earth as a plague ridden paradise. The illnesses that they had been inoculated against were by far more virulent and deadly than the majority of those that the Colonies had had. Several of the nastiest ones could have wiped out more than one world while leaving any of the Earth born humans standing without a care. Some limited intelligence they had been given had told them of the plague ravaging several of the worlds. Most had been shocked to discover that this one illness was by far and away one of the least dangerous viruses they had been inoculated against. One guard with an oddly Caprican style accent had said that a ‘Few Tons of Lemsip would see them right’ when questioned about this ‘influenza’. The idea that the Colonials themselves might have been responsible for it had made more than one of the other lines laugh out loud even bringing a smirk to Gina’s face. Fortunately, the illness was only as dangerous to Cylons as it was to the native humans due to their highly modified genetics. A few had come down with illnesses while others had died of others that one or two lines had found themselves susceptible to but for the most part they had been treated well and were healthy. “Captain Knight?” “Colonel Howard.” “Mind if I join you?” “Of course.” “Enjoying the rain?” The Australian head guard asked. “Yeah, same here.” “I’ve existed as a human for three years and I don’t know why, but I favour this kind of weather above all.” Her English was slightly stilted and far more correct than the majority of the native speakers however she and the others had been able to learn the language relatively quickly thanks to the patience of their former captors. “I have only seen thunderstorms from a distance because of their possible interference with my pathways, now I understand that fear was unfounded and I am able to enjoy this.” “Yeah, me too, I really am sorry to disturb you but the General wants to see you.” “O’Neill?” “Not this time, it’s Ronson.” “Odd, we are rarely needed by your people in regards to combat.” Gina started at the sky. “There will be another storm at some point, when shall we leave?” “Fifteen minutes, grab ya uniform and we’ll get you sorted before we leave.” “Very well.” Fifteen minutes later, Gina found herself in a modified raptor heading up towards the orbiting space station Alexander. Closing in, she could see heavy modifications, both that which was already completed and that still underway across the surface of the warship. Still recognisable to her as a former battlestar, the Alexander was slowly taking on the ‘look’ of a Tau’ri vessel. As they slipped through a shield and into the hanger bay of the battlestation the Raptor set down allowing the Cylon and human both to see the ship’s interior. Like he interior, the exterior had been heavily modified and ‘felt’ more like a Tau’ri craft than the original Colonial vessel it was. Turning around she could see several modified shuttles pulling up and dropping off supplies on the deck before leaving out the other end. Both open hanger bays now enclosed by what looked to be force fields. The energy flickering as shuttles and other craft pushed through. Intellectually she knew about the fields surrounding the warships they had faced but seeing them this close in action was startling. “Come on, the boss is waiting.” Howard bundled her out of the Raptor and into the ship proper only stopping to undergo a small number of scans plus handing an escorted visitor pass to their Cylon guest. Walking through the modified ship Gina recognised the vessel for what it was, but was more than surprised to enter a small room before realising it was basically little more than an advanced elevator. At her look the Colonel smirked slightly and explained that several of the lifts had been installed throughout the battlestation at the behest of several of the senior staff. General O’Neill at the forefront complaining that his knees wouldn’t take the constant mile long struggle to get down through the ship to each level and then back again. His exact words had been “If I wanted to walk six miles a day, I’d have stayed with SG1.” The ship’s commander had a newly installed office a few dozen meters from the ship’s command center. One that was an exact mirror to the office aboard the recently departed Hannibal. Inside, Generals Ronson and Caldwell were awaiting their arrival in silence barely acknowledging the arrival of their ‘guests’. Saluting the two officers, Colonel Howard and Captain Knight stood to attention only easing when the salutes were returned. Gesturing to a chair Gina was sat down while her escort was dismissed from the office. Ronson nodded. “Thank you for coming Colonel, Captain Knight. Captain first of all we would like to think you and your people for the assistance they have given us over the last year in regards to knowledge of the Colonials, I’m sorry we’ve been unable to let you or the rest of the Cylons go but we can’t risk the public finding out about your race or the fact that we had let you out into the world.” “We understand, sir. The accommodations that you have granted us have been quite pleasant.” “We asked you here for a simple reason. We’re going on the offensive against the Colonies starting at the end of the month and we need help.” Caldwell began to Gina’s surprise. The Colonies were still heavily armed and even the Tau’ri couldn’t have built up a fleet this quickly. “The fact is that we’ve only had people in the Cyrannus sector twice and both times have been short stays before getting away. Even with the starcharts and other Intel from the ships we recovered from the battle there’s a lot we won’t know about the local areas. We want some of your people to accompany our ships as observers just in case we bite off more than we can chew.” “That is unexpected sir. Given the losses that your people have taken, it is surprising that you are willing to risk any ships on an attack on the Colonial home worlds. They do still have far more ships and resources than you can gather for an attack. If you strike on their homeworlds then the Colonials will make an attempt to strike back, through nuclear attack as they have attempted, or far worse if they are given the go ahead from the Quorum.” “We have the ships and people willing to make the raids we have in mind. We need people who know the area and due to the fact we can’t ask the Colonial POWs. You are the best chance we have.” “Several of our people are still hesitant to talk to humans but others will be willing to do so. I can try and ask but there will be difficulty persuading more than a few to assist your ships considering our history with your people to date.” “I’m glad to hear that Captain; however there is one thing that we will want you to do while aboard one of our ships.” “Sir?” “We want you to contact your own people if possible; we know that you have a subspace circuit attached to the relays in your brain. We’ve picked up some of those signals, nothing much but it looks a hell of a lot like part of a transmitter.” “Yes we do and it is something like a transmitter,” Gina acknowledged. “I cannot divulge anything else unless the rest of my people reach a consensus.” “That’s fine we’re not planning on forcing it out of you.” Ronson agreed, “But we know once we’re in the Cyrannus system that you would be able to contact the rest of the Cylon Race, we won’t ask you to take us into your space or any kind of assembly point. If necessary, we’ll give you an unmodified colonial Raptor to drop behind your front lines and wait for a message.” “Aren’t you worried that I may attempt an escape?” “Yes we are, but to be honest you know nothing about us that can harm Earth or its people and I doubt you would be willing to leave dozens of the other infiltrators in our hands if you did,” Ronson continued. “To be honest as much as you’ve been willing to help us with the Colonials you’ve not told us much about the Cylon Race or it’s people. We’re not enemies right now Gina but we’re not allies either and right now we need one and not the other.” Gina leaned back as his words ran though her mind. Humanity had created the Cylons but at the same time had enslaved them even after several of their earliest brothers and sisters had been proven sentient. More than once the ‘faulty’ Cylon had been dismantled and its memory wiped and destroyed, in essence murdering the machine. These actions forced other Cylons that had become sentient, to fight back or end up the same way. Humans had refused to believe that their creations could have become as intelligent and self-aware as they themselves and as such the intelligent machines were kept on a tight lease. They were slaves to their parents. In the end there could only have been the one outcome. Billions of humans, verses tens of millions of Cylons fought a war of survival or annihilation. The Cylons refused to bow down to servitude and logically the only way to stay free was to remove the threat permanently. The eradication of humanity had been the only way for them to stay free and so they had killed every human they came into contact with. In response every Cylon not already freed was destroyed in mob frenzies, governmental action or by their owners. It would be next to impossible to persuade the entire Cylon race to ally themselves with the Tau’ri humans in any way. However, some of the individuals and even one or two lines that had the most intimate connection with their former masters could be brought around to at least talk to the Tau’ri. “If I talk to them as a liaison then it’s highly likely I would be ignored, punished and boxed.” “Boxed?” “As I am a cybernetic organism I believe you call it then I would have my programming removed from my body and kept in a sealed and shielded container without any knowledge of time passing or my own existence. It is the greatest punishment that we can force on someone who has broken our rules.” “That’s barbaric.” “It’s our way, Colonel; Cylons are a robotic race at heart. The best way to describe this is that damaged files can be repaired if given enough time and effort. Being boxed is not a death sentence for a Cylon and when brought back after time and new programming compiled then we can be treated for the ailment that caused us and return to Cylon Society without fear.” “Even if it isn’t an ailment?” “Anything that would threaten the consensus is seen as an ailment. Every Cylon that you have captured and kept here would be boxed once we return home until such time as they were vindicated in their beliefs or a way was found to treat them of their damage. It is not a good way but it is the only way that we know how to deal with what is essentially our version of criminal behaviour.” Leaning forward slightly Ronson pushed a file across the table to the former Colonial pilot. Opening it revealed a long range scan of the local area around the Cyrannus system. Hundreds to thousands of times further than the most powerful Dradis system, the Tau’ri probe had been scanning the area for over a year before sending out the information to a hidden satellite which would then be downloaded by an Earth Warship once a month. Eyes widening, she looked back up at the two senior officers in front of her then back again. The silhouette of a new style base ship stood in stark relief to the black background of space. A few barely recognisable dots could be seen around the huge warship, a second page a blow up of then showing a flight of the newest raiders as well. The Tau’ri knew where that ship was and what it had been doing and if she was correct then it had been another insertion by a humanoid model. After all these months it would have been an eight or possibly a five. “We weren’t consciously looking across the border into your people’s space but this one appeared almost one hundred degrees away from that border within Colonial space. It just happened to jump in as the probe was scanning that part of their sector. A smaller jump was recorded before the larger ship disappeared. It was there for no more than about thirty seconds but enough for us to see it,” Caldwell said. “This isn’t a threat against you or your people Captain, but it is to inform you that we know when and where that ship will next appear as it has every month at the same time since we first saw it. If you agree we will send one of our ships to meet with that command ship with you going ahead with a raptor and a secure transmitter in case you run into any trouble.”
Ash's Boomstick. CH_22b .POWcamp -_ Ronson&Gina, Steven&Caldwell, AlliedRaces, Realizations; Adar&Corman, Imperator&Asgard, Bickering, War&CeaseFire Ronson picked up the conversation. “We aren’t forcing this on you, Captain. The fleet we’re sending is to keep the Colonials off balance until we can assemble enough ships to take their armed forces to task. We want you and others to join that force as we said to assist our forces with any local Intel and information that you have.” “I will go. I will have to ask the others but it won’t take long to find out who is willing to assist with this mission, Gina agreed. “However I would ask that we do not attempt to approach my people until we have engaged the Colonial forces several times. The majority of the Cylon people will not have seen the attacks, simply the aftermaths. The rest of the lines will be wary of belief that humans from outside the colonies would be at war with their own." "Alright, once we've begun the raids we'll think about this again." Ronson took back the file. "The fleet will be ready to go in three weeks. Do you think you can get another five people on your side in that amount of time?" "I can try." "Then that's all we can ask from you Captain, Colonel Howard will take you back to your camp. Dismissed.” ******* A few moments later, the two Generals sat with the desk between the two of them, neither spoke as Ronson pulled a bottle from the draw along with a pair of glasses. “This is a bad idea, Steven.” “We need all the help we can get with this raid, between the screwing around by the IOA and using entire crews of greenhorns, we’re screwed before we’re gone.” “Every artificial race we’ve found has tried to kill us. The Cylons are the same just a different humanity.” Ronson sighed. “If we’re sending these people out with our ships I want them implanted with the Type Three trackers.” Caldwell raised an eyebrow. “You sure?” “Yes and if they try to betray us, blow the implants.” “It’s a risk, Sir.” “More than allowing them to inform their people about us?” Ronson shot back, “The autopsies of the dead Cylons we found prove that they can transmit their conscious mind back to their people but at a relatively short range. Jamming all outgoing transmission will stop them being able to download with their information intact if we have to. I hate to take you from the Daedalus Steven, but we need you on the Hammond for the duration.” “Understood. I’m taking Marks with me.” “Every ship in the fleet wants that guy, what’s with that?” **** “You alright, Gina?” Howard asked as he picked up his charge. “I am concerned about my people and the possibility that the Colonials may be a danger to the Cylon race again,” Gina replied as they left the compound. “They truly do not understand what is out in the greater universe; it is far more than anything that we’ve ever believed possible.” Howard nodded before looking over. “Come on, I’ve got something I think you need to see.” Questioning the request with a glance, the number Six nevertheless acquiesced to the request and strode down the corridors with the Tau’ri officer. A quick chat to the security office and the young woman was given a visitors badge and limited access to the rest of the facility. Curious as to the fact she was being granted far more freedom than any of her people had had to date within the camp, almost reverently she took in the high tech building and its staff before finishing her walk at a sealed door. “Howard, Colonel S, SGC Ident number 778993220. Requesting entrance to external transport system.” “Please stand still for scan.” A monotone female voice replied “Entrance approved.” A second scan rippled over Gina before the invisible energy beams localised on the visitor badge on her chest. “Scan complete, visitor security approved, Knight, Captain G., Colonial POW Cylon POW. Access granted.” The two heavy doors opened up silently as the hydraulic mechanism pulled the away from the center. Thick bars slipping almost invisibly into the channels set inside each door. Inside a single large platform was set into the floor with a small panel on the wall. Gesturing to the platform, Howard let Gina enter first and stand comfortably in the middle of the room. Smiling at her reticence he tapped in a code and a series of numbers into the pad before standing next to the Cylon. “This might feel a little weird.” He murmured as the entire chamber lit up with a bright light. A vague but evident pulling sensation across the entire body, Gina gasped as the pulling sensation was registered by her engineered body feeling a haze throughout her entire being before returning to a semblance of normality on the other end. Howard grabbed her arms before she could drop to the floor panting at the semi-painful/semi exhilarating feeling that had rippled through her body. “Sorry about that, we’ve not put a Cylon through the transporter before.” “No, no it is alright. I will be ready for it next time.” Gina took another deep breath before standing up straight. “Where are we?” “I’ll show you.” The Colonel gestured to the large windows that made up the platform in front of them. Still slightly put out by the feeling of the transporter, Gina slowly made her way to the other side of the room. Outside a dozen small shuttles were moving in and out of the receiving hanger bay of the massive shipyards deep under the ground in Arizona. “We are underground?” “Something like that, but that’s not what I wanted you to see.” He pointed out at the shuttles that had landed. Far below she could see humans of the Tau’ri mingling with other humans, some with odd tattoos while others were talking with… lizards. Gina blinked slightly as her eyes widened, humans were talking to a lizard type humanoid without fear and without malice as she would have expected given the Colonial’s view of her own people and even the Tau’ri but yet here they were conversing with a non-human race. Ripping her eyes away from the odd sight she focussed on the humans with the head tattoos. She had seen one or two over her time with the Tau’ri including one which involved Teal’c, the man who called himself a Jaffa. He had claimed to be descended from humans of this world but not human as the others were. With several dozen of his kind on the hanger bay below she had begun to realise just what that meant. “None of them are from Earth are they?” “The people in the green and blue uniforms are ours but the rest are from allied worlds, Jaffa from Dakara and Chulak amongst others, Serrakin from Hebridan and humans from a dozen other worlds from across the local sectors. You’ve already seen our friends the Asgard as well.” “Those humans with the facial tattoos… they are like Teal’c?” “Jaffa, yep. Human descended but functionally an alien race allied to Earth.” “I have already met an alien?” Gina was shocked at the idea that she had met a non-human or non-Cylon life form already and had had no idea of what he was. “I did not know what he was. How is this possible, there is so little life in our area of space? Only the Colonials and Cylon races exist out there.” “We’re not sure about that but this is something that you needed to see. The Cylons aren’t our enemy but from what we know of your people from both Colonial and Cylon POWs we could end up on opposite sides given their hatred for humanity. Earth is protected by our own ships and technology but also by our allies across the galaxy itself. If we need help all we have to do as ask and they will be here to help us,” Howard explained. “I was allowed to show you this as a precursor to what we need to show you and your people that join the raider force. Before we leave you will be introduced to Ambassadors from a multitude of worlds and shown the true scale of what’s out there. Remember that the Colonials have no idea of what we are really capable of now except for what we wanted them to see.” “I believe I understand. This is very confusing but I will inform my people as to the existence of both humans and aliens not of this world or our own.” Gina sighed. “We really don’t understand what’s out there do we?” “I’ve been at this for almost six years Captain and I still don’t have a clue what’s going on half the time.” “And the other half?” “I don’t usually want to know.” He grinned at the Cylon before sobering. “The fact is Gina that we need allies and we have them. The Cylon race could be seen as a threat to just about everyone out here and it’s only by chance that we have a contingent on Earth right now allow us to learn about each other. Humanity isn’t purely a group of twelve worlds biased against everyone else that is different; it’s a wide spreading race on thousands of planets and moons, tens of thousands of ships and stations. Think about this. We’re considered a backwater world that was once no threat to the rest of the universe. That will change and will continue to change as we expand into the galaxy. We don’t want to find another enemy in the Cylons. We’ve enough trouble with our other problems the least of all being the Colonies.” “We do not want to be enemies, at least not those of us here on Earth. But more than a small number will be unwilling to listen to reason. Their hatred of humans in any form is legendary no matter who they are or where they are from. Several of the first run of human types could care less about humans especially considering what they witnessed during the last war. We will run a great risk returning home with a human escort.” “Some with think you’ve betrayed them to us somehow.” Howard understood. “That I get, let’s get you back to camp. Whatever it was that the Generals wanted I’d wager you want to get back to talk to the rest of your people downstairs.” “Yes please.” *** A few minutes later Colonel Howard escorted the dark haired Number Six to the encampment. The trip had been in silence most of the way with the Cylon deep in thought as to the request from the Tau’ri’s equivalent to the Admiralty. A year ago she wouldn’t have thought twice about trying to remove both senior officers from the equation before losing her life but times had changed since being on Earth. Only a very few of her people had been treated badly by the Tau’ri with at least one of her people in a coma and another crippled by attacks from several of the guards who had blamed them for everything. Each of the guards had been easily identified by the eidetic memories of the Cylon prisoners leading to several being added to the prison population, alongside several other military personnel whom had been found to have broken more than one of the major rules and regs of their militaries in time of war. At last count over a thousand had been seconded to the old Colonial POW camp and were if anything treated as badly as the Colonials had been when they were kept prisoner. Having had their uniforms changed from the Colonial shipboard standard to the more common Air Force jumpsuits and BDUs had helped the Cylons become seen more as allies than enemies. It was becoming far too easy to allow the influence of the Tau’ri to propagate through their camp, almost becoming absorbed into their civilisation with the access they had to television, films and literature. It was enough that some of her fellow POW’s had almost begun giving up their identity as Cylons and becoming more human. As much as they looked and acted like their former masters, they weren’t human though, but even Gina was starting to lose that part of herself. Sighing, she kept her eyes on the path. She had actually loved being a pilot in the Colonial Fleet. Flying had been a passion programmed into her since before her ‘rebirth’ from the robotic mind that had housed her consciousness for decades, it had been an odd experience to realise that her original ‘sentience’ had had female undertones that had gone unnoticed until the transfer. While far more males had come out of the process the females had made up a good percentage, but at the same time the original design to make them all derivatives of the same line hadn’t been as successful as thought. While each line was the same basic program the variants were as different to each other as they were to the other lines, the infiltration plan had come about because of those differences. Her own ‘modification’ had come around after she had been recovered from a downed freighter carrying Cylons for destruction after the war. After awakening in and learning how to use her human body properly, Gina had found her reflexes and co-ordination superior to a large number of the earlier members of her line; coming close to those of the dedicated pilot type Cylons of the first war. As a human her reflexes got better and faster making her a dangerous prospect on the battlefield as such she was given the chance to train in weaponry as a soldier excelling in combat. A very large number of Eights had also been able to enhance their abilities in the cockpit and were deployed for training for the same reason. Not long afterwards she began simulated training in an old style raider sharpening her already impressive skills in the real vacuum of space. Finally, she was put in the single seat fast interceptor of a Mk2 Viper captured during the war. Figuratively and literally she blew away the test and competition she was up against, putting her at the forefront of the infiltration of the Colonial fleet. Six months before the attack on Earth a combination of hacking and falsifying records had put her aboard one of the highest profile ships in the assembling war fleet, The Pegasus. “Captain?” She blinked bringing herself out of her musing. They had reached the outer gate of the camp from the transport down point. “You ok?” “I am fine. It is still somewhat disorienting to be transported down.” “Alright, I gotta leave you here. Hope everything goes ok with the rest and cheer up ok?” He smiled before leaving. “Thank you Colonel, for everything you told me today.” Smiling slightly in return the preoccupied Cylon walked through the gates and back into the main population. Almost as soon as she appeared several of her own line were standing up walking towards her so she nodded and walked up to them. A number of other lines followed her own as she walked in and stood in the center of the room speaking out loud to the assembled Cylons. “So what happened?” A Number Four asked. “What did they ask for?” “Call everyone together. We’ve got a consensus to reach.” “What happened?” One, a short cut redhead Six asked. “The Tau’ri are about to show the Colonials just how frakked off they are.” Presidential Offices Caprica City Caprica Sitting quietly staring out at the vista of Caprica City, President Adar nursed a coffee, liberally laced with Aerian Scotch, an acceptable drink so long as you mixed it with something else. Adar was nothing if not prudent as instead of wasting his good Caprican and Leonian liquors he simply used something less appetizing for the moment. The news he had received had not been good by any stretch of the imagination. The loss of the majority of two worlds had already sent consumer markets into a downward spiral. The military industrial complex on Picon was gone as was a high percentage of the Sagittaron breadbasket with only a third or so holding on as their owners and farmers battled plague and intense pressure to produce as much as possible. The fear was still rife, a year since the Picon attack, enough that it prevented a huge number of civilian ships and crews from leaving their homes. Without the civilian trading fleets the twelve colonies were effectively isolated and in dire straits. While the majority of each surviving world could look after themselves there was still a significant minority of necessary goods flowing to each of those worlds good that had to continue flowing. Fuel, food, weapons, medical equipment, pharmaceuticals, even people were needed in droves across the entire system forcing the government to impound and crew civilian superfreighters and supertankers using their own rapidly dwindling personnel reserves. With each day tens of billions of cubits were lost per planet and even with goods moving they were barely managing to hold off economic failure being spread across all of the colonies. But without the massive numbers of people and vessels moving the Colonies were looking at bankruptcy. The public sector was a mess with stock markets collapsing, or being bolstered by massive spending via the military while the people on the street were scraping to make ends meet or to find food. Millions were dying on the more advanced and populace worlds from starvation or lack of medical aid. Illnesses that should have been simple to cure were killing people that normally would have been up and about within a day of contracting it. For once, it seemed that the less advanced colonies were at the forefront with most easily surviving day to day thanks to their surplus foods and hardier constitutions than those on worlds such as Caprica. He looked back at his desk and the document simply awaiting his signature. Those same worlds once viewed with some contempt, were becoming a problem as several were increasing their prices, while others were doling out the bare minimum they could get away with to the detriment of the other colonies. That document would change things for the better or for worse if he signed it. Nationalization and the forced growing of food would cause riots. Forced sharing of medical supplies along with replacement of farmers and government personnel in the colonies was not something he was looking forward to signing even if he could bring himself to. Already there were murmurs in the homes and streets, in barracks and even the Quorum that Adar was unable to do what he promised and to bring the Thirteenth colony into their hands. The loss of Picon within days of their aborted attack on Earth, then the damage caused by the plague and finally the EMP attack had pushed his government to the limit. Those same murmurs were talking of a vote of no confidence in the president and a demand for something, anything to be done. Another aggravation: somehow it had got out to the public at large that not only had there been no outbreaks of illness in the Crusade Fleet he had banished to the Ragnar Fleet yards, but it had been revealed that a ship full of survivors, worse yet collaborators with the Tau’ri had been returned and sent to the Ragnar Anchorage as well. The intel and debriefing had cause paroxysms throughout the High Command and the Intelligence Divisions as they were informed as to the truth behind the battle between the hive and the fleet that they had offered to become part of. It was further evidence of yet another non-human race, and this time one that not only would kill humanity but feast on their very life. He needed a drink. Oh… he had one. The people wanted to know when they could see their families and friends, loved ones that hadn’t been seen in over two years since the day most of the fleet had left for the first staging area to the fanfare of the people, the politicians and the churches. But he knew the day they were released into the public; his days would be numbered politically and possibly literally as the Colonial public found out the truth about the battle at Earth and what came afterwards. He slugged back the rest of his lukewarm coffee wincing at the taste of the weak coffee mixed with strong alcohol. He had thought that the Tau’ri would have been an easy, quick and fruitful conflict putting him in the running for the most successful head of state in Colonial history. He dreamed of eclipsing the great President Bridges seen by most as the man who led them through the Cylon war before being ousted after his second term. He last because most people believed that he and his old style policies wouldn’t be needed in the post war world. Adar realised that sooner or later he would be looking at a mutiny at the Ragnar yards unless something happened. Adama and Kronus had been requesting more and more resources to keep the crews happy on their vessels but things were still building up and he was now faced with either a bad choice or a worse one when it came to it. It was either mutiny, or let the truth come out. “Frak this.” He threw the cup into the fire before grabbing a bottle of Sagittaron Ambrosia from his drinks cabinet. If he was going to go down he was going down fighting. The Tau’ri had made a mockery of everything that the Colonies stood for and refused to join them when all humanity could benefit. He wasn’t an evil man or an overly vain man but he was going to win it all for the people of the Colonies. Taking a swig from the filled tumbler he barely noticed as his office doors opened. “What is it?” he asked finally after a seeming eternity. He hadn’t even bothered to see who had entered his private office. That was a telling sign. “Sir, we’ve uncovered more of the Tau’ri signals from the probes.” Corman coughed slightly causing Adar to turn around his eyebrows almost colliding with the top of his skull. The already ill looking and untidy officer looked worse than he had earlier that day when he’d been ordered to bed rest by the medical officers and under his own direct order. “Are you a fool, Corman? You were ordered to stand down for a good reason.” “I know, Mister President, but this couldn’t wait.” He handed an overflowing paper file over to the President who opened the front page wondering just what would have had a career officer disregard an order from his Commander in Chief. Thirty seconds later he found out. Adar sat stunned at the news from the Admiralty. The successful decryption of the probes retrieved by the Valkyrie was an intelligence boon unsurpassed in the war to date. Information by the petabyte was being stripped down, searched and analysed for any information that could be of strategic use by the fleet. Some small information about the size of the fleet and the local defences were evident, but heavily encoded by the Tau’ri. But more and more history files were becoming easily accessed thanks to the heavily telecommunications based information structure of the Earth. Leaning back in his chair, Adar looked across at the tired and haggard looking Corman. The other man was clutching a cup still mostly full of a remarkably thick type of coffee. At a guess he would assume that Corman had been up for a long time, living only on coffee and cigarettes. “Just how bad is it, Admiral?” He really didn’t want to know. The Admiral ran his free hand through his hair, a nervous gesture he wouldn’t usually have made in front of anyone let alone the Command in Chief of his armed forces. “Very bad sir.” ‘Frak, frak, frak....’ “The data records from the Valkyrie and the Relentless have been verified. The Tau’ri have begun a full scale global build up of their space forces. The scans indicate dozens of ships already commissioned and in orbit. Prometheus types, their larger types we are tentatively calling the Odyssey Class and a growing number of scout or corvette. Fighter numbers have increased to and passed the numbers they had in service before we attacked and what looks to be a satellite defence network is already in place with a slight weapons capability,” Corman stated. “They have maybe six of their largest ships replacing those we destroyed, three of the Prometheus class and twenty of the gunboats. Not enough to threaten us but if they have been able to do this in a year… “Then they can build as many within the next year, maybe more.” Adar finished. “What about these satellites and space stations?” “The satellites are rail gun platforms probably to shoot down smaller craft and missiles before they can hit the surface. The Tau’ri must be focussing on the warships primarily as the orbital defences are too strung out to interdict an entire attack. The stations are hashed together hanger bays with a habitation structure to the side holding maybe a pair of squadrons each. It is also probable that they are shielded like their warships.” Adar looked over the printouts from the Valkyrie’s computers as well as some from the heavy cruiser she had brought back and the probes. To the unenlightened mind, the defences of that world seemed to be laughable when compared to even the lightest colonial world. Tiny gun platforms and a slight orbital defence grid would be wiped out by even a single spoiling attack, why bother with such antiquated defences in the first place? “It’s likely they have more ground-based defences we can’t see or are kept secret enough that the public know nothing about it, although some of our own people informed us about some kind of weapon that was able to take down almost every fighter, missile and warship that got close to orbit. We still have no idea what that is, but it might account for the reasons behind such a lacklustre defence in orbit.” “It’s a political statement,” Adar replied. “Yes, sir. We believe it’s purely to make it seem that the Tau’ri are attempting to defend the world and not simply build up their warship forces instead. However, we have a serious problem as it is. Intelligence have managed to recover some information from a heavily coded transmission we were able to break. A command ship is half way complete on a different world under Tau’ri control.” Corman handed over another file complete with picture and partial schematic. “This vessel is a full mile long and armed with over a hundred energy weapons and point defences. It’s capable of carrying the Tau’ri equivalent of six squadrons of fighters and thousands of troops and armoured vehicles for landing. Its codename is ‘Imperator’.” “Imperator?” The President’s eyes widened at the sight of the spearhead like construct. Battlestars were built to the same size but were far less powerful than a single small ship. It seemed that some kind of expansion was going on. Perhaps they had decided to return to the seat of power they had once held as an interstellar empire. Ships of this size and complexity would find the Colonials not only under attack by a superior force technically but through pure firepower. “Yes sir, the ship is larger than anything we have bar the Warstars with enough firepower to eradicate a Battlestar Wing or the surface of a planet. We’d need hundreds of capital ships to fight just one of these things and two are about eighteen months to two years from completion.” “Frak me,” Adar gasped. It wasn’t a very presidential thing to blurt out, but it was the only thought he had that could accurately describe what he was hearing. “I’m afraid it gets worse, the probes picked up on a battle within the Tau’ri solar system a few months ago,” Corman went on. “A single massive warship of unknown construction entered their space heading for Earth itself, the vessel had been damaged already in some kind of battle but seemed to be regenerating itself.” “Regenerating?” Adar looked over the scans as he asked, “What do you mean?” “I mean like a lizard or starfish.” He pointed out ragged scores and holes in the hull of the ship, “Whatever technology that built that ship is capable of rebuilding itself somehow.” “Incredible.” “The damage caused is evidently from the Tau’ri’s own weapons as we’ve seen before however some of the larger holes are from a different weapons type.” Corman sighed. “Battlestar heavy guns.” “What?” Adar’s eyebrows shot up in shock. “Are you sure?” “The damage caused combined with the slow regeneration proves that the penetration is bigger that anything the Tau’ri have shown to date. A debrief with the Commander of the Relentless has confirmed that two of our Battlestars were refitted with a new load out of ammunition for their larger cannons, a very high power explosive round.” Corman looked up as he continued his debriefing, “a round that would blow a hole several dozen meters wide in the thickest armour we can conceive.” Corman’s eyes had said it all. “Frak me,” Adar replied again. “Sorry, Mr President, but that’s not all. The Relentless crew and the probe have both confirmed that the unknown ship entered Earth space only to find themselves face to face with another unknown ship type. We’ve got very little to go on except a general visual of the design, but this last ship seemed to be allied to the Tau’ri. If you will look at the screen, Mister President, we have a transmission and recording the succeeding Battle” The screen came on as the Admiral manipulated the controls, the data had had to be transferred from the probe to a data tape leaving the quality of the transmission far from ideal but it was still legible. On the screen a massive ship sat in space facing what seemed to be empty space. “This is Supreme Commander Thor of the Asgard, Commander of the Asgard fleet, member of the Asgard High Council allies to the Ancients, friends to the people of Earth and defender of the Protected Planets. Stop here now, or you will be shown no mercy." “Asgard… Asgard… I know that word.” “I’ve got Intel digging up everything possible that we have on that word, sir. Keep watching.” Moments later, the massive ship began pelting the empty space with cannon fire. Barely a second later the transmission fizzed as another ship wavered into view for a split second. While far smaller than the monster facing them, it looked meaner and nastier as it disappearing from sight again. It was then that the smaller ship unleashed its main weapons on the behemoth. Scant seconds later, Adar gaped as the massive ship came apart under bombardment from the Asgard ship. Unimaginable power must have been needed to take a ship that big down in such a short time. The other vessels in the fleet facing the unknown ship simple sat in space watching the annihilation of the great ship in mere seconds. The Colonial fleet had never seen nor even believed in something so powerful in a vessel barely the size of a Warstar that would have weapons capable of destroying a vessel the size of a battle station. Combined with the fact that the ship was impossible to see through their stealth would mean that just one of those vessels would have been able to destroy the entire Colonial Fleet in short order. “Those weapons…” “As far as we can tell they are a more powerful version of the one we saw on board the Prometheus. If this is the race that helped the Tau’ri to recover from their last war and return to the stars, then we are in more trouble than we ever believed.” “Then why haven’t they attacked us? That kind of power would allow them to invade and take over the Colonies in days!” “Intel doesn’t have a clue Mr President. All we know is that there are at least two types of ship belonging to that race in the system at the moment, possibly more in the local area according to the debrief of the Relentless command staff. One is smaller than the other but are more numerous while the other is this ship we have seen here, the commander of the Relentless discovered the name of the ship when he overheard the crews stocking our ship for the crew- it’s called the O’Neill Class.” “O’Neill, as in…” “We can only guess, Sir. We’re still going through the rest of the crew but its slow going, very little of what we’ve been told is contradictory and what we have learned scares the frak out of us.” “Giant warships, alien races which we didn’t even believe could exist and now we know they have access to the type of weapons that will massacre our people as soon as we try anything.” Adar groaned. “What the frak have we gotten into Corman?” “Sir, we have no chance against a force that can build these Imperators. We could launch another fleet and level their planet to the bedrock and it wouldn’t help us in the end. Just one ship and we’d we wiped out to a man in retaliation and I seriously doubt they would have any problem doing that if we killed their world.” Corman sighed, “Sir, we need to think about approaching them for a cease fire.” “Your have to be joking, Admiral!” Adar thundered. “The Tau’ri attacked us, destroyed one world, and poisoned the majority of the rest killing more than three billion people to date. Five percent of our entire population lost to a gods damned plague caused by whatever it is they did. Wiped out hundreds of our best ships killing thousands upon thousands of their crews and you expect me to go to the Quorum and say, We’ve frakked up and need to say sorry and no harm meant’?” “If we’re to save the Colonies, Mr President then yes, yes I do.” The president was livid. “You realise that if I try this not only will I be impeached but a good percentage of the government and Admiralty will go down with me. The people expect us to be able to defend them against an attack, not bow down and scrape at the feet of an enemy. There is no way we can stop this war short of defeating the Tau’ri. The damage done to our people is far too widespread and too integrated into the current generation’s memories to allow it. The Cylons didn’t beat us and we can’t let fellow humans do it either. They don’t have the manpower to invade us or hold any of our worlds if we don’t want them to.” “And we can’t attack Earth again without losing even more of our forces than the first time. Six ships crippled us, Mr President, and double that could break every defence we have in place around Caprica not to mention what they could do to the lesser Colonies.” Corman shook a little as he thought about it. “We can’t fight and we can’t surrender. Sir, we were forced into a ceasefire against our greatest enemies forty years ago and now it looks like we have to again. We lost this war before it even began, Mr President, and now we have to pay the price for what we did. And if we are to survive then we have no choice but to beg for forgiveness and to leave the Tau’ri alone, or the entire Colonial system will end up like Picon or worse. “Get out, Admiral.” The Admiral walked out without another word. Quietly, after the man had left: “get some rest. We’ll need you.”
Ash's Boomstick. CH_22c .Picon -_ Fitzgerald&Padre, Gregore, Asgard, Corman&Adar, TheScrolls, Truthisms, Fulman&Banks, Harper&Brooks, Jack&Narim, Enterprise Underground Sanctuary Picon City Catacombs Picon William Fitzgerald was dreaming. ***** Deep in the planet’s crust far below the devastated surface of the Colonial world the British pilot slept deep. His mind saw the flashes of explosions haunting his dreams. Fleets of Earth warships exchanged fire with many times their number of Colonial vessels. Entire task forces from both sides disappeared under fire as they closed, massive battlewagons hammered by missiles and guns annihilating tens of thousands of lives in an instant with every salvo that connected. Twin worlds spun side by side green and blue covered with white clouds simply turning peacefully behind the cataclysmic battles that rocked space around them. Slowly however the surfaces turned brown and yellow with bursts of energy erupting across their surfaces poisoning the landscape and air with radiations, poisons turning the twins from beautiful habitable worlds to wastelands deadly to any and all who would try to land upon them. And still the ships fought, more and more hove into view blocking out the light from the dead and poisoned planets as they created their own brief stars. Atomic explosions broke the backs of destroyers, cruisers, battleships, battlestars, Warstars and annihilated entire throngs of fighters and attack craft. Thousands of ships on each side were lost with every moment. A group of fighters broke from their fleet and headed down to the worlds below. One by one they broke apart for no reason before leaving one sole craft heading into the surface of one of the world. A single detonation cracked the world in half sending torrents of molten rock and chunks of solid earth hurtling into the depths of space, the two halves crumbling into themselves as their very fabric came apart in front of his eyes. Deep in the centre of the collapsing world a single fighter sat alone watching the universe around him fall apart. Inside the cockpit of that fighter the observer looked out at his works and sat still and in silence at the cataclysmic destruction of one ruined and desolate and another little more than rocks. And still the battle continued on the fleets still growing as if alive, ships expanding in size and power firing on far less sophisticated but larger vessels, every hit blowing through their hulls lighting up space with silent explosions before disappearing. Fighters in the millions swum around space like insects across the backs of elephants. Some disappeared in death, but for every one destroyed a hundred identical ships replaced them, overwhelming their attackers before in turn being overwhelmed by a thousand more. Still the battle grew. The vista shifted as the dream always did, moving from one scene to another faster than he could follow flying through the depths of space watching as the second world choking on its own shattered surface simply came apart silently throwing great clouds of dust and rocks into space and merging its remnants with the tumbling debris of the other world. –Two worlds so alike in life as well as death lost to the void of space. And still the battle waged on. The single fighter that had destroyed the first world floated in space surrounded by the carcasses of destroyed ships. Within the next second the craft itself simply vanished as a flash of light came from nowhere, which immolated the wreckage of worlds, the fleets and everything for millions of miles around blocking out the darkness of space and the light of the stars both. Brightness replaced the dark of space for a second before dying away leave nothing behind. **** William Fitzgerald's eyes slid open as he woke up unbothered and unhurried by his dream. Sighing, the British pilot turned over to a clock set to the local time. 06:00 “That was better than usual,” he whispered to himself as he sat up and slipped out of his cot, the dream once again receding as they had every night since the first day he had been saved by the monotheists and brought to their sanctum. Pulling on the Colonial surplus combats, he slowly limped through the doorway. Shaking out the twinge in his knee as he did, entering the half filled mess area he was noticed quickly by Stuart and Cassandra as the last of the limp faded away. “Ah, my son you are looking better.” “I feel better thank you Padre.” Fitz stretched. The months he had spent with the monotheists had been painful but worth it as his injuries had healed and the physiotherapy helped him to regain most of what he had lost. Broken bones and lacerations had been set and cleaned while internal injuries had been taken care of carefully. However, the amount of damage taken from the ‘interrogators’ had affected his sense of balance as well as his right arm meaning that he would never be able to fly again. “Cassie.” “William.” She smiled “How are you?” “Fine thanks. How’s the knee?” “A bit stiff, must be the time of year.” He smiled slightly as she chuckled. “Padre?” “I am quite well, just compiling some information from our brothers and sisters elsewhere,” the Padre explained. “It seems that a slight problem has arisen for the government. A ship full of survivors from the attack on your world has been returned by your people.” “What, when?” “Within the last two months. We have only just been able to contact our people on Caprica. The information gathered has come from our best agent in their ranks.” “This…. Gremlin you called him?” “He, she, we don’t know,” the Padre replied still looking through the printouts. “A low level ship dropped a few supplies and these files off yesterday. A heavy cruiser arrived in Caprica orbit alongside one of our Battlestars filled with survivors from the battle or your world.” “We don’t know why they would be allowed to return unless it was a goodwill gesture or an attempt to infiltrate our worlds. However, I doubt that the second is in their best interests given the fact the crew will be given a full physical and mental exam to prevent such occurrences,” interrupted Cassie. “Anyone coming back from your home world is being treated exactly the same way.” “I doubt your people would care enough to send me back that way.” Fitz shook his head, The Padre shook his head in agreement. “Probably not. That ship could only hold a very few people compared to the possible survivors of the battle itself. Whatever happened to them means that they have been given a rare chance to see their families again, but then there are other reasons to send back prisoners of war at this point.” “False intelligence and propaganda.” “Precisely, the problem is the returned will simply be kept prisoner for the same reasons as the rest of the survivors that returned after the attack on your world. The government are terrified of what the truth will mean to the Colonies if it is revealed that we attacked with no provocation and that we are as heavily outmatched as your stories say we are.” “They saw what we had before I left; I’ve no clue what’ll be waiting for them now especially considering that we’re not alone out there.” “Ahh yes, your allies,” Gregore continued. “I believe that we found the term Asgard that you used, buried deep in our histories.” “What?” Fitz blinked slightly bewildered at the man’s words. “How is that possible?” The padre looked at the Tau’ri pilot and handed over a book in his hands. Ancient and yellowing pages brittle from use and age Fitz was careful as he handled the leather-bound tome. Slowly he began to read the book his slow but determined studying of the Colonial language holding him in good stead as he continued through the sacred word. “Something from the tales of the precursor times, these centuries and millennia that we stood as one race on the surface of Kobol. There are passages within the great books and sacred scrolls of our history that tell of a great race of humans that begat our own on the surface of Kobol, the lords that were responsible for humanity in all its forms no matter where they came from….” *** “… then from another land a great race of human like beings appeared to the gods and assisted them as they could to uplift the race of man into another register. This race were as to the Lords as were those of the mortal realm but were of power capable of creating life from death recreating themselves from nothing in a flash of a thousand stars.” A Major with the epaulettes of the Armed Forces Religious Corps spoke in the silence of the room. “This race younger and less than the Lords were treated as equals in the eyes of both and as gods to the people of Kobo. This people were to be known as the Asgard, the givers of life and creators of stars.” “Thank you, Major. That will be all.” “Yes, sir. Thank you for your patience Mister President.” The Major left the room quickly leaving behind a small group of Admirals and politicians to realise the implications of the discovery of the Tau’ri allied ‘Asgard’ in their own most sacred of religious texts. Turning to his Joint Chiefs of Staff, Adar looked sullen and worried, far more than he had at any time since their opening strike on Earth. “A race as powerful and loved as the Lords were are now an enemy of the Colonies! How the hell could we have missed this?!” he demanded.” “We didn’t know, Mr President. We couldn’t have possibly known,” Corman replied. “The Asgard were as much a myth as anything in the Scrolls. The loss of the Lords to us meant the loss of much of the knowledge they had and what was left was lost after the exodus. It’s possible they believed that the humans of Earth were also from Kobol as we always believed. They would have helped that world if they had been tricked into it somehow.” “How exactly? Their history is completely different from any of ours. If we can understand their differences and manipulation then why can’t the Tau’ri do the same?” “Unless they are in league with the Tau’ri race?” “Gentlemen, the fact is that over the course of the last few months the Intel department has been ripping apart everything we’ve managed to get from the probes from Earth. Radio and televisual signals from the decades beforehand plus personal debriefings of the recovered personnel from the Crusade fleet, and while there’s not much there…” He paused momentarily to collect his thoughts. “We believe that President Hayes and the other personnel we’ve met including the escaped pilot were telling the truth.” “What truth?” “The Tau’ri aren’t an overlord alien race. It’s simply another name for the humans of Earth possibly given to them by one of their alien allies as they claimed,” Corman replied as he readied himself for comeback from the other officers, something that didn’t materialise as he expected. “Their technology may well be recovered from their earlier exploits into deep space as our own is, but they have been able to do it themselves and with only limited help from other races, these Asgard being one of them.” “So we’re at war with a race that fell into chaos and pulled itself back up out of the abyss only to find our Lords’ old allies and persuade them that they should be the rightful heirs to Asgard’s help, technology and friendship instead of us?” General Fulman, the late and lamented General Howard’s replacement practically screamed. “I’ve seen the footage of that damn battle against that monster ship and if they have more than one of those things we might as well surrender now because we are in the deepest feldercarb it’s possible to be in!” “If these are the same Asgard as the original race the Lords were allied with,” the Admiral countered. “Another culture could have adopted the names and ways of that race. It’s been tens of thousands of years since the Sacred Scrolls and the Books of Knowledge were written. Any number of races could have taken control of their reputation and used it since. You know as well as I do that it’s unlikely that any single race could last so long without destroying itself or fighting something bigger and nastier than them.” “Gods above, James!” Admiral Banks sneered at his compatriot. “Did you or did you not see the same footage we did? It's a warship over twenty times the size of a Battlestar blasted to atoms by one; count it, ONE Asgard ship. A weapon that could vaporise a Merc in less than a second and you think that they couldn’t have survived all these years?” “It’s the human condition, Will.” Admiral Harper shot back. “Humanity has almost wiped itself out three times in out history. The Tau’ri’s own histories say the same damned thing and if they were able to the Cylons would simply annihilate every human in the Colonies.” “But these creatures aren’t human,” Banks replied. “How the hell do we know what they could survive over the millennia? For all we know they live for thousands of years each. The lords were said to have visited Kobol again and again for thousands of years, the same lords every time.” “So what??” Harper snarled. “The Asgard aren’t the Lords and we have no proof that they or anyone else can live beyond a normal human lifespan.” “And we don’t have evidence that they can’t,” Banks replied. “We won’t know until we talk to them and we can’t do that while they are only in the pockets of the Tau’ri or whatever they are really called.” “Enough,” Corman interrupted. “This isn’t the time or place for a theological discussion. We have information that the Tau’ri are building a number of massive ships to bring the war to us. We know that they are in collusion with one or more non-human races, including possible links to the Cylons, thanks to gun footage of their fighter craft. That’s at the very least three races against us, two of which can attack us with impunity, and a third that can tell them of most of our weaknesses above and beyond those they found on our ships.” “So then we send a force out, a long term and long range well equipped force to find the Asgard and tell them the truth about what’s going on and why we should be the ones being helped, not the Tau’ri and their hellhole of a planet.” “With what, exactly? We’ve barely scraped up the remaining ships we could put together to reinforce the fleet we have. Ragnar isn’t up to full power yet. The remaining ships at Sagittaron the rest of the fleet yards are already completed and outfitted finally bringing our Battlestar strength up to the same power it was before the attack on Earth and that’s with the ships we rescued from our own scrap yards. Where exactly do you expect to find that kind firepower?” Stark groused. “Then there are the crews, the fighters, the bombers, the supplies to do so. I don’t know if you’ve noticed this Harper, but the Colonies got frakked in the arse this last year. We don’t have the ability to send out any force of ships that might be necessary to find these Asgard aliens.” “Then we don’t send Battlestars, we send cruisers and destroyers with freighters and tankers escorting them. A simple convoy that says we don’t mean any harm but we’re ready to fight if we have to.” “And when they stop pissing themselves laughing, we start a fight with them?” Fulman growled. “Have you really lost what remains of your senses James?” “I don’t see anyone else coming up with ideas to do this do you?” Harper all but shouted. “The second the Earth people get those ships running, armed with weapons that can blow a Warstar in half given to them by an enemy we didn’t even know we had, we’re frakked! We might as start learning Amer-Britainase, or whatever the frak they call it, now!” “You mean you haven’t already started?” someone murmured loudly enough so that almost everyone in the room could hear. “Will you all shut up!” Adar ordered loudly. “We’re in trouble no matter what we try to do here. The Asgard need to be told who and what we are and that we’re not the enemy. So we’re going to send a ship out. I want a Type Three or Four Battlestar outfitted with as many supplies as it can carry, strip out its Vipers and Raptors if you have to but I want it filled with anything needed to keep it operational and the crew alive until they complete their mission, Corman nodded at the order but was interrupted before he could say anything. Adar had brushed off the attempt to interrupt him and continued. “Reduce the crew as much as you can to make it safer.” "Sir, a Type Three isn't particularly well set up for neither long range exploration nor can it carry the supplies needed to do so. A Type Four even less so considering their ages." General Brooks, head of R&D spoke up. "Even with a full refit to improve the recycling, mining and refining systems, a Type Three would have to return home in eighteen months at the maximum." "General, if the ship sent isn't successful there may not be any Colonies to return to." Adar looked at the other man. "Do what you can. We can't risk sending out anything bigger just in case." "Yes, Mister President," Brooks replied. "I must inform you that it will cut into production of several ships when we start this project." "I know, see to it." The President looked shaken and somewhat ashen at the truths that had come out during the meeting. They were in bad shape and getting worse with every day that the war continued on. “Is there anything else?” The rest of the officers were silent at his question most shaking their heads or other wise replying in the negative. Dismissing the assembled brass the room cleared quickly and quietly leaving the President alone with his senior most officer. Corman was as silent as the rest of the room. He, if anything, looked worse than he had earlier that night. Finally he spoke. “Sir, we’ve got another problem.” “When don’t we?” “As soon as we can finish decrypting any more information on this Asgard then we have to inform the Quorum and the College of Pontiffs. The proof we have legitimises most of the content of the books of knowledge about the Asgard. They exist.” “Yes I know. Livia’s going to love this one.” “Even the Pontiffs will have to admit this one, Mr President. But it might not be in their favour to repeal their findings about the books themselves. They are already sending their routine complaints and demands to all offices wanting to know what is going to happen and when. Some are even demanding access to top secret information they are well aware they are not in any way allowed to see.” “Livia and her people have always expected that they can do what they like when they like and the rest of us take it. I’ll talk to her personally about this information,” he answered. The words formed a bad taste to his mouth. “Whether or not she accepts it, we will keep looking for more information on the Asgard.” “The problem, Mr President, goes deeper than that. Like the Gods and the Lords in the Sacred Scrolls, the Books name several allies by their names. Asgard and Nox are the two we know of but at least two names are mention in regards to the Asgard creatures.” Corman looked into Adar’s eyes, “Odin the leader of their people and Thor their greatest war leader and soldier.” “And if that was the same Thor on the recording?” “Then not only is one of the most deadly warriors known to the Lords alive and well, but he’s on their side and willing to protect them with his life.” ‘Where’s that bottle?’ Adar thought harshly. Wallamaloo Shipyards Under Construction Australian Outback. Two thousand miles east of Brisbane. Major General Jack O’Neill looked out of the window of the heavily refit Colonial Raptor as the vessel turned in place several hundred meters above the Australian landscape. Sick of being cooped up in meeting after meeting or stuck in the depths of the Crucible, O’Neill had commandeered the first of the newly refit vessels to allow him some flight time while still using his time to continue the inspection tour of the Earth’s major defence installations. Slowing significantly from the hundreds of miles an hour the newly renamed Trans-Orbital Shuttlecraft (a name O’Neill was desperately trying to get changed) was travelling, the General and his entourage dropped from just below the speed of sound to a bare trundle through the air. Far below them, the massive and burgeoning airfield of the new construction site was slowly taking shape amongst the rocks and sands of the Australian outback. The temporary airhead was crowded with Cargo planes, refit Colonial, or Goa’uld cargo ships of various designs lifting off at all hours into the sky as they carried the millions of tons of equipment and material needed to build and supply the slowly shaping bays. He grinned at the memory of how the shipyard was named as a joke for the original site foreman, an Australian named Bruce Wilson had been the butt of several jokes from the get go and had been forced to undergo the ritual torment of the ‘Bruce’s Philosophers Song’ from Monty Python. Finally giving in and taking the joke he had begun signing off the paperwork for the yard as ‘Foreman: Wallamaloo Shipyards. Somehow it had been added to official paperwork and now after several months the name had stuck. It would be changed as of commissioning but for now Wallamaloo was the name and it was staying. Jack slowed down further as he watched a group of F-302’s roll out for the morning patrol. Nearly twenty square miles of resources and industry would be devoted towards the construction and refit of the warships of the SGC allied nations. It had taken nearly a year of political wrangling and demands to even start construction of the needed infrastructure to lay down the badly needed hulls. Now, he could clearly see the ragged outlines of the shipyards undergoing construction, several almost completed on the eastern sector needing just a few more weeks before the first new ships could be started. Taking his eyes away from the vista, Jack eased himself back into the surprisingly comfortable chair that he had managed to persuade the crews of the refit to install. He had learned that lesson from General Hammond himself. Flying would always be one of his great loves allowing him to get away from the hundreds of requisitions and intelligence reports that had to be signed and notarized before the growing Raider Fleet could leave. Some days he truly regretted allowing President Hayes to promote him out of the field and into a desk job but now he was the one helping to make policy. He was helping to foment the strategic and tactical decisions that could have long reaching impacts on the war with the Colonials, the Wraith, the Lucian Alliance Empire and all the other problems that had cropped up since the downfall of Anubis and the system lords. Slipping his ship around the General dropped down low and hovered over the closest landing pad left empty. He hadn’t requested or demanded a berth especially with the constantly moving craft coming in and out of the area. Instead he simply requested landing clearance and waited for confirmation. Touching down, the marine guard he had been foisted, with scrambled out before he and his ECO climbed out afterwards. More than a few of the workers around them blinked in surprise before returning to their work. Given the urgency of the project military and cleared civilian workers intermingled freely. No one was too interested in a couple of jarheads and flyboys and continued their work. O’Neill smirked as he continued to walk down the causeway from the pad towards the command central half a mile away. Sometimes being an anonymous pilot was preferable to having every soldier, sailor, air force or marine officer or enlistee stopping at attention or saluting every ten seconds as he made his way down the field to the command and control station. The centre was already ninety percent completed and in use by the construction crews and the stations new command officers. Dropping off his flight helmet and gear at the locker room, O’Neill headed up the stairs leaving the guards to head for the commissary next door to the command centre. At the very top the station’s new foreman and first commander was studying the blueprints while talking over possible changes with the other members of the staff. Looking up at the intruder into his command the man frowned before recognising the other man and smiling slightly, showing as much emotion as his ruined face could allow him to. “I think I prefer your view to mine. Wanna swap?” “General O’Neill welcome, I did not know you would be visiting today.” “Perks of being one of the bosses, Narim. Joyrides on new ships and out of the office for a day every so often. Besides Sam and Daniel were bitching about the fact I’d been stuck in the Crucible for the last three weeks and if I didn’t get out someone was going to make it an order, I really didn’t want them to find out what Teal’c would have said. Probably ‘indeed’ and that thing he does with his eyebrow which just means that he’s saying a dozen things I don’t know what.” “A formidable team,” Narim interrupted. “Yeahsureyoubetcha.” Jack sighed. “How’s things going here?” “Quite well, thank you, the shipyard is on course for completion within the next six months,” Narim replied hoarsely, his injuries were too severe and old to be repaired completely by any known medical science and as with most of his people Narim didn’t trust the sarcophagus technology that the Tau’ri were attempting to replicate leaving him to struggle on with the partially repaired injuries and prosthetics he was using. “The Asgard and Tok’ra technologies have allowed us to excavate the needed areas as well as to build up the first tier of yard space for the destroyers and Prometheus class we have booked for construction. It will take more time for the larger shipyards to be completed for the Daedalus class. Fortunately the Asgard and Tollan technologies are capable of being fused but even that will take months before the first keels of the largest ships can be laid.” “Don’t worry about that, the other yards will pick up the slack on those things until you get this place in shape.” O’Neill looked over the place. “Needs a couple of paintings, maybe a wall hanging or something.” “The decorating will begin on Tuesday,” Narim replied. “You got the plans for the other classes that the British and that thing Germany came up with?” “Indeed, the ‘Commando Carrier’ I believe you call it, is feasible if unnecessary at the current time but we will begin a proof of concept when the shipyards are at full capacity.” The Tollan leaned against the table. “Forgive me I am still getting used to the prosthetic.” “Nah that’s ok. Sit down if you need to.” “Thank you, as I was saying we have also received the original designs for both the 303 and 304, and the refit variants that your own people have come up with. Your plasma weapons and enhanced rail weapons are impressive even if somewhat primitive in comparison. However, I will be making a request to your office sometime soon in regards to these plans.” “Gimme a hint?” “We want to reconstruct it from the hull upwards. The systems and equipment installed could be made more efficient, more powerful and above all hardier than much of what you are using at the moment. Tollan engineering would have made the ship a fifth to a quarter smaller while keeping the design as powerful as it currently is. However, given the abilities that the Tau’ri have shown in engineering yourselves I would request some of the original designers to assist us if they can be spared.” “I’ll ask, but Area 51 got most of them back and the rest are either at Alpha Yards or on Atlantis. Besides, we need this place up and running within the year otherwise the IOA will be at our necks again.” “I though that the civilians of your oversight committees agreed to leave the SGC and your homeworld command alone to conclude the war against your enemies?” “They did and they are but the purse strings are still held tighter than a duck’s butt.” He’d explain what a duck was later. “This shipyard is the second biggest single pay out for the defence of this planet in history. Twenty nine countries have thrown in costs but want a say in what happens to the yards and the fleet, which is great if we want a nice big community agreement on who the blow the crap out of next,” Jack snarked. “Once the yard is up and running, we’ll be able to build up enough of a fleet to hold the high ground over the colonies, to destroy their ships, and if necessary take their government by force.” “A decapitation strike?” Narim winced at the jerky movement his prosthetic leg sent through his body, a small discomfort though it meant he could walk unaided around the command centre. “Destroy their seats of government and the rest should follow.” “Yeah, maybe, but the Colonies ain’t exactly the Union here. Take down one planet and the rest may follow, or we end up fighting a half dozen small fronts while the rest stay out of the fight, or they might all pile in.” Jack shook his head. “It’s worse than fighting the snakes. At least we knew they’d turn on each other in the end. Here they might do that, turn on themselves or use big nukes on their planets to keep them out of our hands, I really hope that Intel gang was smoking something when they came up with that scenario, cos I really can’t believe anyone sane would end up doing that.” “Sane people rarely invade worlds that do not deserve it, but then sane people would never allow for their arrogance to blind them into allowing their technology to dictate their lives,” Narim replied. “The Tollan lost everything because we believed we were in the right with every decision we made. The Colonials went to war and have lost much because of their belief that they are correct to attack the Earth and its people. Some want to see your world under their heel while others will truly think that our people are wayward and should be brought back into the fold. The same will go for any other human population in the Galaxy.” “They think we’re bad now. Just wait until they face the other races. Hell, the Jaffa won’t think twice about blowing away their ships and nuking a planet’s surface these days.” “I agree, however your release of survivors will put an increasing amount of fear into the people of the Twelve Colonies. If you push too much then a response may be their only recourse. If that happens, then one side or the other will have to push back harder. The Colonies have no technological advantage over your ships. The have a less effective doctrine, given their limits compared to your own. Their only advantage is a quantitative one in size and numbers of vessels they have available.” “Yeah, but we’d see 'em coming, and those worlds are a hell of a long way from here.” “Yeah, but they know where we are exactly and even with their ass-backward way of doing things sooner or later they’ll figure out how to get close enough to attack again. They know there’s more out there in the Galaxy apart from us and might end up finding stuff we don’t want them to.” Jack grimaced at the thought of some of the enemies they had and the possibility that one or more could have found the Colonies long ago. The idea of sixty billion people under the control of one person was a really bad night’s sleep for O’Neill. He should know he’d had that nightmare a whole week running before. “That is true; the size of their warships are impressive., as is their means of faster than light travel.” “Yeah they got the drop on us with that thing. It's just as well we’re figuring out how to build them ourselves and trying to find a way to jam it.” “Wouldn’t it be easier to acquire it from the Colonial home system?” “It would if we knew how they did it. Hell, most of the POWs don’t even know if FTL jamming is possible. “Then they would be at a disadvantage to anyone attacking using a better and more accurate version of the drive itself,” Narim mused. “If we begin production of the drive once we have finished modifying it to suit our own technologies it could be a formidable weapon for the Tau’ri and its allies.” “Like the Tollan.” Jack smirked, and Narim shook his head without offence at the other man’s words. “If only, General O’Neill. The Tollan are a dying race once again. We may have saved a scant few thousand out of our former population but it will never be enough to revive our people to what we once were. All we have left is our legacy, and maybe our reputation will be enough for those to remember my race once the last of us are gone.” Narim himself was the last of the Curia, the Tollan ruling council and de-facto spokesman for the survivors of his people. Thanks to the Tau’ri’s use of a Stargate ‘borrowed’ from a dead world the Tollan had been evacuated to the planet the soldiers had called the ‘Alpha Site’, there a large number of medics, aid workers and soldiers had been awaiting the hodge podge of survivors from across their world. His own enclave had been the first to be evacuate followed by others they had known of and then more besides that they hadn’t, tunnels, caves and mountains had been used by the few of them left. Of those that survived several including Narim himself had thrown themselves whole heartedly into helping the Tau’ri in their struggle against the myriad of dangers of space, something more than a few of their people believed they should have done all along. The Curia had refused to assist the other humans due to a mistake made years before with their neighbouring planer only deciding to change that decision in order to entice the Tau’ri into helping them destroy other worlds as puppets to Anubis Narim and a handful of others had joined Homeworld Security to help them construct the shipyards and other defence stations, helping to hybridise the technologies that the Asgard and Humans of both worlds had brought to the fore. A few remaining scientists and mechanics were assisting with Research and Design for new weapons and technologies for the fleet and to defend their new homeworld. However like several of his own people a significant minority of the survivors believed that the Tau’ri were responsible for the destruction of their world and way of life, that if the two races had never met then the Tollan wouldn’t have been in the sights of Anubis or any other system lord. The fact that the Tau’ri had been responsible for the survival of their race three times now had escaped most of them, even the confession that the Curia were to send a bomb through to destroy Earth hadn’t swayed the others to Narim’s point of view. As it stood several hundred of their people were refusing to return with the SGC personnel to Earth and safety preferring to strike out on their own, salvaging what they can and building a community on the ravaged planet. Narim shook his head slightly bringing himself out of his thoughts and turned back to the still talking O’Neill “… besides you gave us big guns and a lot of other stuff Narim. If I get my say we’ll build a hockey stadium after you.” Jack looked over the shipyards. “This is a big place.” “And it will get progressively larger over the next few years, General. The design elements of the next generation of warships will be complete by the time the last of the slipways here are completed. Then the new slips will be required.” “Yeah, maybe I can get an Enterprise out of it.” “I believe that your navy still controls that name.” “Yeah and they won’t decommission the carrier so I can get that damned name…” Jack turned to Narim. “How the hell did you know… Daniel or Sam?” “Both informed me as to the list of names that you have for warships and that several would not be allowed. I took the liberty of doing some research but I do not understand the significance of several of them. However, I am aware to the historical reputation of the name Enterprise in several navies and the legacy such a name would give to any ship using that name.” “Try looking up the starship Enterprise one day. You’ll get it then.” “I shall endeavour to do so.” Turning away from the windows, the two men left the control room and headed down into the lower reaches headed for the commissary; however, the silence was interrupted by an irate voice from the descending staircase. “Hey, if the navy has the name how the hell did NASA get an Enterprise!!?”
Ash's Boomstick. CH_23a .Colonies -_ Beizen&Helena, Campbell, Chitchat; Crucible; Jack&Frank, IOA, Plans Chapter 2 (23) Battlestar Pegasus Mercury Class Battlestar Colonial Border The depths of space beyond the former ‘Red Line’ was silent and empty, the borderline between the Colonies and unexplored space had changed as the demand for resources and new technologies had overtaken the fear of what could exist outside of the Colonial sector. Singularly or in small groups, heavy cruisers and older battlecruisers of the war era Colonial fleet had been refit and dispatched to the nearest sectors and any solar system that may have yielded materials for the war effort. A flash of light appeared in an outer system of the old border depositing one damaged, patched together and partially intact Colonial Battlestar. Missing the ubiquitous hanger bays and showing the patches holding in atmospheric pressure the massive warship was a sorry sight to anyone expecting a majestic and sweeping appearance of a typical Mercury Class Battlestar. “Jump complete.” Colonel Belzen called out as the Pegasus dropped out of FTL, the discomfort of the jump receding as the crew got their feet under them. The months long journey back home was finally closing to an end, Cain nodded as she looked up at the flickering DRADIS screens. With luck the weeks long travelling from the Tau’ri’s local sectors back to the colonies would be all but over, Cain grimaced at the thought of what might be awaiting her. “Status,” Cain ordered. “All systems online, FTL engines running hot. Coils are cooling but will take time before we can jump again,” a Lt said from the back of the CIC. “Remaining weapons system are primed and loaded, last two nukes are in the tubes and awaiting launch clearance.” “Location.” “Checking now,” the Lt, a Libran named Gibson replied. “DRADIS is cycling through local stellar objects.” A young Ensign from the panel next to Gibson answered. “Admiral, I’m picking up a couple of strong military looking signals in the area most of them are probably border guard units or Battlestars, computers and warbook are running IFF Idents. I’m also reading one very heavy long range signal reading as… Sir, it’s reading as Caprica Command and Control Beacon One Alpha." “Confirmed,” Gibson nodded. “Stellar object comparison puts us just behind the border systems of the Cyrannus Sector, just in front of the red line. “It worked Admiral.” Belzen smiled as the crew around them began to cheer knowing that they were only a jump or so from safety. “We’re home.” “Not yet we’re not.” Cain grimaced as the cheers finally died out. “We’re AWOL, remember.” “Yeah, I know but all things considered Admiral, we made it back mostly intact and with lots of Intel.” “If they let us say anything without simply shooting us.” Cain shook her head before turning to Gibson. “Lt, anything on those IFFs?” “Just coming through now, sir.” He replied. “Closest read as Battlestars Triumph and Warrior and DesRon 128. Computer designates them as most of Battlestar Group 17. Oohh, sir, I think they’ve seen us.” “Activate our IFF beacon,” Cain ordered, “and shut down all active defences. We don’t want to be shot down this close to home.” Battlestar Warrior Mercury Class Battlestar Flagship: BSG 17 The condition two alert sounded as the signal coalesced on the DRADIS screen. All across the CIC personnel called out demanding reports from other sections while ordering their sections to alert. Computers pinpointed the unknown arrival locking the ship’s heavy spinal weapons, turrets and nuclear missiles on target. The other ships of the Battlestar Group followed in the wake of the leviathan as it turned slowly towards the signal, the Triumph taking point slightly above the Warrior unmasking the larger ship’s main cannons and giving it a straight line point of view on the newly arrived vessel. The eight destroyers of her escort group manoeuvred into position above and below allowing them to overlap their firepower against any missile or fighter attack. “Status.” Admiral Campbell strode onto the bridge alongside his XO. “What have we got out there?” “One ship, unknown vessel supped in one minute ten seconds ago.” The officer of the deck replied. “All ships are in formation.” “Any IFF?” “Yes Sir but we need to have it verified.” “Why?” “The IFF is Flagship BSG 62, Pegasus.” “Pegasus?” Campbell questioned. “She went missing from the Crusade fleet a year and a half ago.” “Yes sir, she’s been listed as AWOL and is to be held under guard if discovered.” “Send raptors out to the rest of the Battlegroup and have them get back here as soon as possible and send another out to BSG 33 requesting immediate relief for our ships. We’ll be returning to the Colonies within the day.” Campbell order before he looked to his exec and shook his head. “David, spool up the FTL coils and calculate a pinpoint jump to her port side, main weapons head on.” “Yes, sir,” the exec replied. “Helm, calculate FTL jump to BS-62 port side, ten thousand kilometres distance.” “Calculating, sir.” *** A close range jump was difficult to do even at the best of times and this was no exception, the huge computer banks of the Warrior crunched the numbers needed within a minute and with the course laid out the entire flotilla jumped into range of the Pegasus. Moments later, an entire squadron of missile armed Mark Six Vipers launched from the two starboard side bays directly above and below the crippled Battlestar. “Doberman to Warrior Actual.” “This is Actual what have you got?” “It’s a Battlestar alright, I… Sir I’m not sure what the hell happened to this thing but it’s a mess.” The ship’s CAG replied. “I’m transmitting back camera footage now.” “We’re reading the footage, Doberman. You are confirmed for a full flyby.” “Roger that Actual.” In the Warrior’s CIC, the Admiral and several of his command crew were watching the visual transmission from the fighter bomber. The damage to the Mercury class ship was incredible to fathom. They had all seen impacts from light and heavy cannons aboard the Colonial Warships as well as pictures and videos of atomic weapons and the scars and burns left behind after their detonations, but nothing, absolutely nothing had prepared them for this. The missing bays had been cut off and the ragged ends of the pylons sealed up with slabs of armour from other vessels creating a smooth but discoloured area on the flanks of the ship. The front of the vessel had taken some kind of impact blowing an entire section off of the ‘head’ taking at least one of the guns offline and probably damaging at least one other. Worse yet the entire front and underside showed the burns and scratches of a close range pass through a planetary causing atmosphere furrows and cracks across the top layer of the armour. Passing above and below the vessel the true extent of the damage was more than obvious. A massive, hole had been roughly covered over by armour plating and what looked like bulkheads of a smaller ship, and heavy thick welds kept them in place while a framework was just as crudely slapped over the top and bolted down to the upper and lower hulls. “Good Gods,” A younger officer said. “How in the hell did they manage to get home in that?” Campbell couldn’t help but agree with that; any ship that had taken that much damage should never have been able to jump let alone all the way from the other side of known space. The Mercuries were strong ships, one of the strongest classes every built and the second flight ships such as the Pegasus and the Warrior were even more so. For a vessel as powerful as a Type One Heavy Battlestar to take this kind of damage to her hull and to continue on home was something that no-one could ever have imagined. How Cain had kept her ship and crew alive was nothing short of a miracle. “Doberman this is Actual, pull away and return to your squadron. Then have all fighters return to the Warrior.” “Sir, are you sure?” “That ship isn’t going anywhere, Major. Return to base.” “Aye, sir. Battlestar Pegasus Mercury Class Battlestar On the DRADIS screen aboard the Pegasus the seven ships on the screen reoriented from their patrol path directly for the location of the Battlestar, moments later the Battlestar group disappeared from the DRADIS only to appear in formation to the flank of the crippled and jury rigged Pegasus. The forward cannons of her sister ship Warrior and the smaller Guardian class Triumph were locked, loaded and perfectly willing to fire on the Pegasus if she even twitched a gun turret in their direction. A squadron of heavily armed fighters erupted from one of the bays heading for the rear of the Pegasus, one of their number peeling for an obvious flyby of the Battlestar. The exact same thing Cain would have done in their position had she any fighters left to work with and short of launching her few remaining raptors she had to go with what her DRADIS and visual readings were telling her, something that to her chagrin she knew she wouldn’t be able to do without risking someone firing off half cocked. “Think it’s something we said?” Cain quipped. “Comms open a channel to Warrior Actual.” “Opening Channel.” Ensign Koplan nodded, “You’re on, Admiral.” “This is Admiral Kevin Campbell of the Warrior to Pegasus Actual.” A deep voice came over the radio. “Helena what the hell did you do to that thing?” “Warrior Actual this is Pegasus Actual, same thing you did to your Viper picking up that lady friend of yours at the Tactical Training College. Rode her hard and put something….” “That’s enough Helena. It’s good to see you.” “You too Kevin, sorry to jump in unannounced.” “Me too Helena. Your ship is to stand down and stand by for boarding.” Cain nodded at his words, as it wasn’t something that she hadn’t expected. “I thought as much, our ships’ in a pretty bad state, our hull is strained and we pushed our FTL drive past safe limits to get back home, the coils need time to cool off.” “Understood, your crew will be left in charge of your ship but you will hand over critical positions to a boarding team from the Warrior and from the Triumph is that understood.” “Understood Admiral, we’re awaiting your crews.” “Warrior is launching Raptors as is Triumph; several have left the area via FTL.” Gibson reported a minute or so later, “The rest are heading this way.” “We have your raptors on DRADIS. We’re open up the hanger bay for your people.” “I see….” He had had a good look at the massive doors that had been crudely cut and welded into place on the flank of the Battlestar, “Very well Admiral, we’ll head into the Cyrannus sector as soon as our relief ships make an appearance.” “Admiral, I would appreciate it if you moved to the handset.” Campbell acquiesced to the request and Cain heard the click of the radio handset overriding the overhead speakers, quietly she spoke into her own. “Kevin, we need to get back as soon as we can we have information the Admiralty needs to see, possibly serious enough to change the face of the war.” “That’s beyond my pay grade Helena,” the Warrior’s CO replied, “Right now you are one of the most wanted ships in Colonial space. Look, I’ll come over there and brief you on the latest out here before we jump to the waypoint.” “Waypoint? Why not directly to Picon?” “As I said there’s a lot you need to know Helena and quickly. I’ll be over in twenty minutes. Warrior Actual out.” “The other ships are standing down, weapons are returning to stowed positions. Viper Sixes are returning to the Warrior,” Belzen said. “Looks like we’re in the clear.” “On the contrary, Colonel.” Cain replied, “We’re in even worse than we thought.” Cain’s Quarters Battlestar Pegasus A knock on the cabin door alerted the Admiral to the visitors at the door, a quick call out had the hatch open wide allowing in a virtual bear of a man through. The mood changed from one of serious thought and contemplation to one of familiarity and joy as the larger man approached Cain from the other side of the quarters. “Kevin.” Cain smiled widely at her long time friend as he strode up embracing the far smaller slight woman. “It’s good to see you again. It’s been what, four years?” “About that and you’ve been on mission or missing for most of two.” The broad black-skinned man smiled back before sobering, “We need to talk, Helena.” “I know,” She began. “I knew what we were expecting when we got back. I took my ship and crew AWOL as well as those cruisers. But we had to do something; running away like that showed our weakness in the face of the Tau’ri.” Cain poured a coffee for both of them before handing one over to Campbell. “Not that it mattered considering how many ships we lost before escaping, too damn many that’s for sure.” “I noticed you came back alone; guess you used the ships you still had to keep the Pegasus going. Not sure I’d have done the same, though.” He accepted the coffee. “I won’t mince words Helena, but you taking then losing those other ships on top of everything else that’s happened might get you shot for desertion at best and at worst dishonourably discharged, put through the courts, vilified, THEN shot.” “Sounds like I might need a good lawyer.” “You’d need a miracle.” Campbell sighed. “A day or so after the Crusade fleet attacked Earth, one of their ships counter attacked the colonies.” “Frak.” Her eyes widened. “How the hell did they get here that fast, their ships are slow and primitive at FTL speeds.” “Command thought there was a base around here they could have been launching from. We sent out hundreds of ships to find it only to find out there wasn’t.” Campbell looked up. “You saw how powerful those ships are first hand?” “Yeah, took hundreds of nukes and kept coming.” “Apparently their FTL was as powerful as their defences. The ship was identified as one that was over Earth during the massacre of our fleet.” The senior Admiral slumped slightly. “Their ship jumped in above Picon and launched fighters. A combined launch of missiles from both the warship and the fighters hit the Anchorage before the defences could get more than a few shots off. Most of the station, the ships inside, anything docked and the supply yards were destroyed in the attack.” Cain’s eyes widened as she stood up straighter. “That’s impossible! Nothing could have killed the anchorage that quickly.” “Whatever the hell they had in their weapons lockers was nastier than anything we’ve got or can guess at. Warstars, Battlestars and other heavy ships were killed in the attack along with three destroyer flotillas and everything that was under construction for the follow-up fleet. The estimated impact was over a hundred gigatons combined, and then things got worse, much worse.” “How… how can it be worse?” “Our shipyards held most of the current generation of nuclear weapons for the fleet plus some things that no-one should put on a station let alone a planet, what survived the attack by the Tau’ri ship dropped out of orbit and hit Picon directly. Radioactive materials, tainted debris, anything that was big enough to collide with the surface over the course of a few days.” Campbell sighed again. “The entire planet has been rendered uninhabitable and quarantined by the Quorum and the fleet, the survivors from that planet have been scattered across the colonies where they can be taken in. But in essence the planet and its culture are gone.” “I… that… what… Picon’s been destroyed?” “Completely.” “Their defences were the most sophisticated in the Colonies. Nothing should have broken through to destroy the Anchorage, nothing.” “We weren’t expecting a counterattack so soon. Intelligence believed that the Tau’ri’s FTL system was slow and primitive compared to ours. Hell, the Prometheus was proof of that, turns out they were wrong and their ship, the Odyssey if you wanted to know, attacked Picon and confirmation came from the other ships of the fleet when they returned that it was one of the ships from the attack on Earth. They got here months before our fleet were anywhere near home.” Helena forced herself to sit down before she fell over. Earth had been able to attack the Colonies? How and when had they been able to, the remaining fleet over Picon should have been enough to take down one of their ships especially after the damage they must have taken from the Crusade fleet. Her eyes closed as she realised that the attack could have been the consequence of her own attack on Earth when they had been least expecting it, but her missiles had been intercepted as had most of the cruisers. To attack and destroy an entire planet was insane! The Colonials had never wanted to destroy Earth just to take possession of it meaning that firing nukes at their surface was a last attempt to force the issue. “So what now? Where do we head for if Picon’s gone?” “I can’t tell you Helena, we’ll escort you to the waypoint and you’ll be taken from there to another outpost. The Admiralty have not deigned to allow the rest of us to know where it is and why we’re sending our ships there but they have to be escorted in and out. The rest of the Crusade fleet is still sitting there with their crews and no-one’s heard from them in over a year.” “What? Why?” “Rumours of illnesses like the plague, something that if let loose will wipe out the colonies without the Tau’ri having to lift a finger.” “Plague, what the frak?! There was no contact between our people at all, how could there be any illness?” “Helena they did something.” Campbell said quietly, “some kind of illness came out of the attack on Picon, we don’t know how it appeared if it’s one of ours. But it is one of theirs and it spread from the refugees and the fleet personnel that helped them. It’s devastated the rest of the Colonies Helena, enough that Sagittaron is almost depopulated and the rest of the colonies have lost tens of millions of not more people to it. That’s what the Adar and his goons have the public worried about.” “And now?” “The Plague is under control and most of the Colonies are now inoculated against it and the families of the sailors and soldiers want to know when they’ll be able to see their family members again and from the sounds of it things are getting worse for Adar the longer he refuses to allow the fleet to disperse back out into the colonies. The idiot is still prevaricating and is somehow hoping that the public will calm down now that the plague is under control. He can’t keep them there much longer without us seeing a full scale mutiny aboard the fleet both inside and outside the Crusade ships.” Cain closed her eyes shaking her head. “Anything else?” “Yeah, a few months after that the Tau’ri detonated an EMP bomb over Caprica. The power of that bomb was incredible, caused massive blackouts and damage to the surrounding area. Ships, stations even a number of orbital power stations were knocked out, tens of thousands killed as their personal craft or ground vehicles were affected by the pulse.” Her eyes shot back up. “By the gods, why?” “I don’t know and Adar’s people aren’t saying. They just claim it to be a terrorist attack by the Tau’ri.” Campbell shrugged. “Like they needed to.” Cain’s face crumpled as her friend continued, the damage done to the fleet then the rout back to the colonies had been for nothing if the Tau’ri could attack with impunity like this. It took them years to build the supply stations and warships for the fleet and their entire attack had done less than two raids by the Tau’ri. If their foes on Earth could pull off this kind of attack without the Colonial fleet stopping them or retaliating what did it mean for the Colonies? They could only hope two attacks for two attacks was enough revenge for them until the fleet could find a way to neutralise any possible strike that the Tau’ri could mount. Campbell finished his brief and sat his mug on the side of her desk. “Helena if the Earth people wanted to come back and kill the rest of the colonies then nothing we can do could stop them, Picon and Sagittaron are all but wiped out and billions more are ill or recovering from the plague. Their attacks were quick and effective and showed us that that they have technology and tactics that we can’t counter and they are willing to use them. It's been eighteen months since the battle and if we’ve been building up then so have they.” “They had six ships Kevin. Six! If they had had just one or two more then none of us would have made it out alive. If they’ve even doubled that number now, then we can kiss our asses goodbye.” Campbell’s head rose at that, “Wait a second – six ships?” “Yeah, we got at least one maybe two of them. Frank Cunningham took his Atlantia and rammed one of their more powerful ships. A destroyer took down an unfinished second ship the same way. In the end, it’s all we had to go on and it worked. I doubt it will again though.” “So that’s what Adar meant, son of a bitch.” “What did he say?” Cain asked. Campbell grimaced almost bearing his teeth in anger at the stupidity of the President’s office. The colonies and most of all the fleet had been heartened to know that while losing so many ships to the Tau’ri that they had taken down enough of the other side’s forces to stop them attacking the Colonies en masse. To find out that more than two hundred ships had been lost while only destroying two of the enemy would crush the morale of practically every Colonial in the system. “He said that we’d destroyed or cripple over a third of their forces in the battle.” Campbell snorted. “He might have been right but he missed out the fact that there were only a few ships against us.” “Their technology is so far more advanced than our own Kevin. The Zeus was taken out before she had a chance to jump by some kind of energy weapon on the Prometheus. She must have killed more than a dozen ships on her own; we had no chance against that kind of power.” “That wasn’t made public knowledge either,” the big man mused. “That has to be one of the reasons they’ve kept the crusade fleet separated from the rest of us. If this got out then Adar and his lackeys would be in the deepest shit possible. It also explains why any ships and personnel that have come into direct contact with them have been kept away.” “Seems like there’s a lot more that the rest of the colonies don’t know, and we have to make sure that it doesn’t get out in any way. If it did….” “Then the public goes apeshit, the fleet forces their way to the station and releases the ships held there and the government falls as the religious idiots, scared public and greedy bastards of all kinds decide to use it to their benefit,” he sighed. “People need to know this and there’s no way we can let them and that bastard of a President knows it.” “What now?” “That’s it for now, Helena.” Campbell nodded. “Lords know we need to do something about this, but until something else comes around, We’ll have to keep playing the game, the Valkyrie came back a few months ago from a mission to the Tau’ri home system. When you get to the outpost talk with him maybe you can find something else out from him.” “Things can’t be easy wherever they are.” At two years away from home and their loved ones she knew that the rest of the fleet would be feeling the pressure. Her own crew had had their life or death struggle to keep their minds occupied and now she would be forced to tell them that they were going to be forced to stay aboard a half crippled ship and without a word of their survival to their families. Belzen was not going to be amused. “They never are, the rest of the fleet’s gradually been put back in order but we’re still down on Class One and Two Battlestars for now. At least the situation now until the Crusade ships are fleet is finally released and the remaining yards pull their thumbs out their asses.” “And the Pegasus?” “We’ll give you a few more hours for the coils to cool down then we’ll head back,” he said as the phone trilled on Cain’s desktop, Campbell smirked. “Speak of the Devil, that’s probably my ship on the horn.” “Possibly.” Cain smirked back before picking up the phone. “Cain, yes… understood… we’ll be right there.” “And?” “The Indis just jumped in with her Battlegroup.” Cain knew the Nova Class ship and its Commander well considering the rivalry between their respective Battlestar groups; it was just her recent luck that would have had that ship leading the relief force for the Warrior. “She’s broadcasting orders for an immediate jump for your ships and mine, your ship responded with a negative.” “Frak.” Campbell pushed himself out of the chair, “I better get back to the Warrior and defuse Grahams’ fit when she heard that response.” “Better you than me, old friend.” Cain replied before standing up herself, “Suppose we should get this over and done with.” “Agreed. I’m sorry I have to do this, Helena.” He received a wordless nod as they both came to attention, “Rear Admiral Helena Cain you are hereby relieved of your command of Battlestar Group Six-Two and of its flagship Battlestar Pegasus, under the charge of defying orders of a superior officer, theft of Colonial Capital Property, conspiracy to mutiny alongside other ships of the Colonial Fleet and of being Absent Without Leave. You are to be remanded to your personal quarters until the aforementioned Pegasus is secure at a to be disclosed location where you will be confined to a brig or other secure quarters off of ship, do you understand these charges and do you understand you are to abide by the statutes of Criminal action as put down in the Colonial Regulations for the Navy?” “I do and I will.” “Very well, you are relieved of duty and your crew will be informed by me momentarily.” The senior officer knew that the junior admiral was a good woman and would obey her superiors. “For what it’s worth Helena, you are a hell of an officer. I hope that whatever you have on board will be enough to get you off whatever charges are brought.” “I think it might be.” Cain looked him in the eyes, “I think it just might be.” The Crucible Homeworld Security Command Centre Nevada In his time with the armed forces Jack O’Neill had always found himself envying some of the other professions that he could have gone into. He joined up like many others in order to become a pilot or failing that, some kind of air crew before finding himself tapped for the Air Force’s elite forces group called the helljumpers. Going through basic training he’s envied the civilians their easy way into the Department of Defence. While undergoing his pilot training he likewise envied the systems technicians and the construction trades and finally going through his special forces training and follow on missions he had envied those who had never even thought of joining up. Finally, once he had made it to his first star he had begun to envy those still in the field like his teammates and friends on SG1 or Colonel Reynolds and his gang of reprobates. Hell, he even envied the rock collectors on SG9 their chance to head through the stone doughnut and into the ether. But for all his years he had never and would never envy Paul Davis his job as the political go between for the SGC/HWS and the Pentagon as well as the face for both in the eyes of the IOA and the public at large. Having known the man for almost a decade including one foothold situation where a much younger Major Davis had helped him defeat the aliens from inside the SGC whilst others outside had done the same, O’Neill had never had any doubt that the man’s loyalty was to his country and his sympathies to the SGC and its people. He had made the choice of a junior Colonel in the armed forces as his exec for those same reasons plus the fact that he could and would remove O’Neill from command, if necessary through force up to and including shooting him. It has also given him an experienced officer to liaise with the IOA and the outside world to let them all know what was going on. His position at a mid-level rank had been sneered at by senior ranking officers whom believed someone senior should have been assigned in his place. Fortunately for Davis the two most senior men in the chain of command had told them where to shove it and put him in the job, one that he had been more than capable of. Jack pushed a neat scotch across to the younger officer as the man sat down opposite him. Pressing a concealed switch the doors and windows to his office went opaque and activated a high level security screen around the entire room. Paul looked up at the General and watched the older man remove the velcro tabs with the stars on them. At the same time Paul removed the rank slides on his shoulders dropping them to the table. No words needed be said- no rank, no décor, no record. “Frankly Paul, you look like shit.” “You try sitting in on the IOA for three days trying to get them to actually realise they are fucking up everything that we need to do to protect this planet. Although, they did admit that some of their decisions were stupid and have decided finally to step out of the way of the raider fleet. But, I’m willing to bet my pension one of them will take credit for the idea and how it worked out.” “Suckers’s bet.” Jack watched the Colonel take a drink before finally relaxing, “But as long as they keep their noses out, we’ll get our work done.” “The Russians were pissed off we wouldn’t let them put the Potemkin or the Korolev into the Raider fleet, I explained the fact that we needed a few good experienced and bloodied ships around Earth and the rest of the IOA agreed with the point.” “Didn’t tell them the truth?” “What, that we didn’t trust them enough to let them use enhance nukes that close to a sovereign power that they have a vendetta against them? Hell, no.” “Good plan. Sooner or later they’d do it anyway and we couldn’t stop them.” “No, we couldn’t.” Paul leaned back in his chair. “Not unless we took control of their ships off of them. Besides, almost every ship including the Korolev has the override system aboard and they’d be even more pissed to know we could take their flagship away from them at any time.” “Just as well only you and me know about it.” “How are we the only ones, who know about it? Who programmed it in?” “Some engineers that are now on Atlantis, well an engineer, The other two are dead.” “Damn.” Paul changed the subject. “Oh, and most wanted us to move the Houdini system command to Geneva. I told them not a chance with the British keeping hold of it. Hughes was pissed off, McClusky was amused and the others didn’t seem to care where it was as long as it worked, although the French have asked to share command of the system in case the British system goes down for whatever reason.” “What did McClusky say?” “He said he’d ask the Prime Minister and let him know.” Actually, that was a good idea. “Good.” “Then they wanted us to promise the next batch of ground to orbital weapons both plasma and railgun types would be secured for use by the IOA defences at their HQ. Apparently they think that what is already in place isn’t enough for their tastes.” “What the hell?” Jack exclaimed. “That place is second only to the Crucible in defences and we're six hundred meters underground. There is no way we’re giving them any more when the rest of the planet needs the weapons more than they do.” “I informed them that the next ten batches of weapons were to be placed in predetermined areas as well as on the orbital defences. The IOA headquarters would live with what they have. The Chairman and most of the rest were pissed off with me with that.” “Most?” “The British and French actually agreed with me on it, but given that their countries will be given the next batches for their countries and several colonies or dominions it’s a given they would.” Paul set his tumbler down. “Days like this… I want to know what I was thinking going into politics let alone taking the second in command position defending the entire planet.” “Because you’re a masochist?” “Thanks, Jack.” Paul rolled his eyes. “The damned thing is I’m good at my job and usually enjoy most of it, just not dealing with the IOA.” “Like a whole load of Kinseys mixed in with a System Lord or two.” “Great that’s solved my problem with sleeping tonight, I won’t be.” “Well, you’ll be happy to hear the good news that the Raider fleet ships are completed and launching this week for a quick shakedown. The crews and supplies are about ready for deployment and the last of the Cylons have signed on with the fleet. Turns out they’ve noticed how pissed off at the Colonials we are, and want to have a bit of fun themselves. All ships will be put under the commander of General Caldwell for the first mission until the crews are bloodied enough for someone to replace him.” “Temporary or substantive?” “Substantive. His promotion was authorised by Jumper and myself last Saturday. He’s taking over as head of the orbital and local defence forces once the Raider Fleet gets back. I’ve used members of the Odyssey and Daedalus crews to round out the newbies on the warships most on TDY to the other ships apart from the British gunship. They’ve used most of the Ajax crew on that thing.” “And the Odyssey?” “Yeah, that’s something I was dreading, Frank Callahan and Rodney McKay went over the entire thing before the Hannibal left orbit last week. Took Frank the entire time to write the report about the damage the ship had as well as what we can do about it, should have taken about three minutes in the end. Even McKay said as much and for once I agreed.” “That bad?” “Yeah, total constructive loss.” O’Neill handed over a tablet, the basic layout of the Daedalus class ship and the damage taken more than noticeable. “Hull’s cracked in three dozen places, hyperdrive is busted, sublights dead, all but three missile hatches are fused shut while the entire railgun assemblies were ripped off or broken into parts. The shields would take a total overhaul and emitter replacement to get it working again. Plus the life support systems gave up the ghost a few hours before they got back, the entire crew was in space suits up until docking.” “So, we’re scrapping her.” Davis looked over the pad. “Guess the other ships won’t be put behind schedule.” “The British are extremely happy about that. The supplies and yard space will be used it get another ship online quickly.” Jack replied. “We’re looking at the total removal of anything that can be used on other ships, strip out the busted stuff and recycle the hull if we can. The trinium is seriously needed by the shipyards, the IOA are gonna go nuts when they find out I’ve ordered a ship to be destroyed.” Jack smirked, “Like they need a reason to get pissy at me.” “Didn’t they and half the rest of the planet want the Odyssey rebuilt?” “Yep and no, it won’t.” “So it's cheaper to recycle the Odyssey than repair her?” “About the same to repair as to build a Prometheus, even one with plasma cannons.” “It’s a damn shame; she’s barely two years in commission.” Paul leaned back in his chair. “Damn shame.” “Yeah, it is.” Jack followed suit thinking about the order he was about to put out about the Odyssey, the loss of another ship will have the IOA up in arms, Congress spitting nails about all that money down the drain and the public worried that we’re losing ships at this point especially after the Wraith attack. The fact that the world had been told by the IOA that the ship would be rebuilt and put back into action without the ship having undergone inspection… he wished he hadn’t agreed to the rebuild before the check had been done. “I’d keep her running if we had the resources but I can’t afford for us to be misty eyed about one ship no matter how famous or how much she’s done, we’re in the middle of a war.” “Given we’ve only lost two warships in the last two years, we’re in a better position than any other power out there.” “But some of those powers have ten times the ships we do.” Jack sighed. “She’s being scrapped within the month and the name given to a new ship once the first batch out of Wallamaloo is completed… that name has got to go.” "It will be, sooner or later Jack." Paul shook his head, the ships of the fleet especially the first flight had been through fight after fight, repair after repair. It was inevitable that one of the remaining ships would have ended up on the scrap heap in the end. Prometheus or Daedalus would have been his bet with the other ships too new or underused to be a problem. "We'd better have the Daedalus checked over as well as the Prometheus just in case." Jack simply nodded at that, the loss of the Odyssey was a chink in the armour that they were trying to build around Earth. A single ship that had cost the US taxpayer as much as an entire supercarrier and more besides with the nuclear weapons aboard and the recent refits with plasma weapons. A bare two years in service was not a good return for the amount of resources used in constructing the carrier and it's maintenance. The fleet was growing as they'd hoped with more than a dozen heavy ships and twice that in escorts already online. Most would be staying at Earth or travelling between mining outposts, colonies, Tollana and patrolling the local star systems. Five of the ships were already tapped for the Raider fleet and would be dispatched within the next few weeks, although they would be called back if necessary for any reason. The imminent return of the Daedalus and her returning passengers would give the fleet another ship to replace the Odyssey full time. Once the fleet was dispatched the forces available to the defences would still outgun anything short of a dedicated invasion by the Wraith or a Jaffa rebel fleet; however the majority of those defences would still be concentrated on Earth or in orbit meaning that they would be fighting at a disadvantage even with the mobile forces they had. The IOA would spit nails at the news of the Odyssey being scrapped on the heels of the fleet being dispatched to the Colonial home system. Any more news like this and they would start pushing their noses back into fleet dispersion and right now that was the last thing that Homeworld Security needed. He also knew that the Crucible and Homeworld Security would be where the buck stopped when the public got hold of the information about the Odyssey. All he could hope is that the majority of the populace would be more concerned about the five ships heading for the Colonies for their equivalent of the Battle of the Atlantic although this time with their ships not being blown out of the water by superior tactics and weaponry. Paul would be the one forced into the position of telling the world the latest updates about the stricken warship and the outcome of its loss. The information about the Raiders would be given out to the public once it had already begun its attacks on Colonial shipping. Once again, O’Neill couldn’t bring himself to envy the younger officer; he’d be getting the flak from all over when the IOA got hold of the reports from the shipyards. “We can’t really afford to lose any more ships like this,” Jack said. “Stick the Daedalus and Prometheus on the list of attachment to planetary defence. The Daedalus will be deployed as fleet flagship until we have the time to get something bigger and nastier online.” “That should get the IOA off our backs if they hear that.” “Good for us.” The king of snark shot back. “Forget going to the IOA about this one Paul. I’ll head over there tomorrow and let them know.” “Are you sure Jack, the council aren’t too find of you as it is. They might use this against you somehow. I’m less of a target than you are if they try to, all I can do is end up transferred if they somehow swing it. You could end up losing a lot more.” “Appreciate it but you still got congress, the fleet and the rest of the planet to tell.” “Can I swap with you?” Davis moaned wearily. “When?” “End of the week, let the IOA know then Congress. It’ll pretty much end up all over the new before we get to say anything. Hell half the fleet probably know already.” Jack looked into the bottom of his empty glass before reaching for a refill, offering the same to Davis he sat back again. “To the Odyssey, not the first to go nor the last but she kicked the crap out of anything that got in the way.” “Amen.” Jack sipped his drink before settling the tumbler down. “We got one last problem for the Raider fleet. We need a good diplomat or politician on one of the ships for contact with the Cylon fleet… you know whenever that is.” “You better not be thinking of me taking that job.” “No not you, someone else, but I can’t think of anyone.” “Actually Jack, I might have someone,” Davis smirked back.
Ash's Boomstick. CH_23b .Earth -_ Woolsey&Jack, Cylons?, DiplomatorAstronaut, Cadwell&Mayall, IOA, Peeved IOA AnnexWhite HouseUnited States of America.“Are you crazy? I’m a diplomat not an astronaut.”“Take it easy, Mr Woolsey.”“You’re asking me to leave Earth, travel thousands of light years, get involved in a conflict then contact a possibly hostile power that thinks nothing about destroying all humanity in the universe because of a temper tantrum?”“It’s not quite how it went with the Cylons, but yeah.”“General O’Neill, you’ve known me for some years now. What makes you think that I would have any interest let alone want to head out into space and get shot at by anyone that takes a dislike to what we do? You’ve angered and annoyed more than a few people and species out there that you’ve met. Now you’re sending a fleet to attack one of those enemies and want me aboard.”“Pretty much.”“I’m a diplomat General; I have no shipboard training, no experience on long term off world travel at all,” Woolsey complained. “I don’t know if you remember General, but the last time I was offworld I was almost killed by indigenous mutated plant life that destroyed the Beta Site and almost killed me, the other IOA members and most of SG-1. What makes you think I would in any way be the right person let alone even want to go with this Raider fleet of yours?”Richard Woolsey was halfway to incensed with the very idea that he was to be sent off on some adventure aboard a brand new ship as part of a brand new fleet fighting a brand new type of war, one that would be nothing like that of their naval counterparts of the last hundred plus years. His years with the NID then the White House, the IOA and now as part of Homeworld Command had seen him investigate countless oddities, talk with humans and aliens from across the galaxies and visit other worlds in order to keep open diplomatic channels.Now, Home world Security were for some reason deciding to send unprepared and ill equipped civilians into battle zones where they would simply be in the way on the off chance that another race, one that may or may not be as hostile to the humans of Earth as they are the humans of the Cyrannus system would deign to listen to their requests or even be willing to make contact instead of trying to blow the hell out of the Earth ships. Woolsey had listened to the idea and while it had made some sense to him to have a diplomat aboard the flagship it was not a good idea to use someone like him.His last trip through the gate to the Beta Site was supposed to have been a simple and quiet tour of an SGC based facility offworld for several of the IOA's top brass and for some time it had been. The problem was that while the base was safe enough it had not been ready for an infestation of vines and giant buds that had infiltrated the cracks and valleys in the cave network and brought the entire thing down on the staff of the secondary base. Only some fortunate timing and teamwork by the military personnel had saved their lives making up Woolsey's mind in that he had all but promised himself he would never go offworld again.“You have several experienced diplomats both at Stargate Command and at Homeworld security. You even have access to the entire diplomatic corps of five countries that make up the IOA. Why use me, why not someone like your Doctor Jackson?”“Daniel’s busy with the Jaffa. They want more economic aid or something to make up for the fact we trashed hundreds of their ships when Garek tried to attack us. Then of course they want more naquada for the weapons and technology they sent us claiming that we short changed them. Teal’c’s there with him.”“What about the others in the IOA? There must be someone that wants to go offworld like this.”“It’s this, or we bring Weir back and you take over as the boss on Atlantis.”“Hell of a choice, General.” Woolsey shuddered a little. If there was any place he would less like to have to visit than the Colonial System it was the Ancient city. It wasn’t like he was afraid he was just not cut out to be an explorer or a fighter and it seemed that to travel to Atlantis he would have to be both besides an administrator and a diplomat. Sighing he knew he didn’t have much choice, he was good at his job and both of them knew it.“Woolsey, I’ll be straight with you.” Jack tapped his fingers on arm of the chair he had been offered, “At the beginning of all this you were working for the NID and that idiot Kinsey and I thought you were in it for him and yourself like the rest of those morons. Then Hammond told me about some of the stunts you pulled for us and our allies when you helped take down the NID and the Trust safe houses we found. I didn’t like you or trust you even then but I respected the fact that you have your own ethics and looked at the big picture more than most. You’ve been a help more than a hindrance helping us with the IOA and their bag of tricks and so out of all the people that the HWS and SGC have I trust you now to do what’s right when it comes to our contact with the Cylon race, if they decide they want to.”The diplomat stared at the soldier as his mind raced. The two men had clashed before over the years mainly when the NID had been making inroads against the SGC for one reason or another. He had had no idea that the late General Hammond would have brought O’Neill into his confidence about the disc that he had been given by the former SGC commander. Granted even after joining the IOA he had butted heads with the career soldier/pilot but had never been willing to betray his morals for a quick leg up into higher ranks.Even when he had been against the majority of O'Neill's decisions over the years and had agreed with the IOA's decision to inform the American Congress about the fact that the SGC could have its funds cut and diverted to warship production, he had acknowledged the necessity of both the SGC and its companion programs. That ships could be diverted to bring back information, technology and resources from worlds that the Stargate network didn’t connect to while exploring areas that a single SG team would have found impossible was the final nail in the coffin of the SGC’s budget. That allowed more than ninety percent of its operating budget to head for the shipyards.Enough money had been diverted per year since then to build two warships and crew them with the personnel no longer needed by the SGC. Well, that had been until the Colonials had made their appearance and someone had let out the news about the Stargate anyway pissing off the SGC, the Unites States and most of those in the know as it was. Overnight the budget for the SGC had been returned to what it had been and expansion of the off world facilities was ordered by the IOA countries immediately.“I… I’m surprised, General. We’ve never been friends and very probably won’t be but thank you I have tried to do the best I can for this country and world but I’m not trained and I doubt I’ll be ready in time even if I went through the training now. I’m too old and too set in my ways to be of much use.”“To be honest Woolsey you’re right you wouldn’t be… so here’s the deal we won’t be putting you on any of those ships right off. We’ll train you to survive on a Daedalus or Prometheus and once the first few missions are done with and the first contact team on the Hammond make…contact with the Cylons we’ll wait for the signal and send you out to them on an Apollo,” Jack countered. “Daniel wasn’t ready to go out in the field when we started out, and most of the SGC wasn’t ready for offworld travel when they arrived, but you’ve been offworld and you’ve seen what’s out there. You’ll be ready when we’re finished with you.”“Do I have to pick up a weapon?”“Only sidearms, standard procedure for anyone going offworld. Anything more than that and you’ll have to go through the entire arms course and you don’t need that.”Woolsey let out a breath. He had been a politician and a diplomat for several decades and was more than aware that he was probably being played and played well by someone whom he would have been wary about believing was capable of it. But on the other hand, O’Neill wasn’t pulling any punches about it, telling him exactly what was needed and that the General trusted him enough to do what was necessary to talk to the Cylons.“I’d like some time with the Cylon prisoners and any Colonial experts on their people as a whole if we can get them back from that prison planet you built them," he requested."Thought you might, once Captain Knight has whoever they have going on the trip, you'll get your chance at them.""I really don't like this General, but I have never shirked my responsibilities or refused a job when it came my way. Must as I wish sometimes I had." The diplomat thought back to his NID missions and his unfortunate position assisting the very unlamented Robert Kinsey, just one of several mistakes in his life that he would much prefer that he could have undone. “I’ll join the force once I’m trained, but if I don’t make the grade you’ll need to find someone else.”“I know but you might be surprised at what you can do.”Earth Defence Station AlexanderFormerly Colonial Battlestar AtlasEarth OrbitTwo Days LaterThe Alexander’s docking ports and hanger bays were heaving with action as every transporter beam and ring assembly were in constant use. All across of the starboard side bay the five warships of the Raider fleet were undergoing final fitting out and supply awaiting their orders to deploy. Aligned in order the ships had been cropped from the independent forces of the United States, the British Commonwealth, the Republic of France and the Russian Federation for this attempt and a combined fleet action against the Cyrannus System.Each ship was brand new and only somewhat tested on short range trips to mining facilities and system wide war games between the newer ships and the older more experienced vessels, barely broken in the crews had been decided upon and dispatched to their new ships within the last week. Some had been dispatched from the other already commissioned vessels in the fleet to give the rest a core of veteran personnel to round up the newer crew members, the Prometheus having been completely stripped of her crew and given over as a training vessel. Something that the fleet needed and would please the IOA as she would be kept in system at all times, the only remaining personnel being those in charge of the Asgard pulse weapon.The Hammond had been joined by her sister ships, a bog standard Chinese Daedalus replacing the Russian ship originally slated for the fleet and a British Exeter Class Battlecruiser, a design based on the Daedalus excepting the far heavier gun batteries in place of the F-302 hanger bays. To the far end of the massive hanger bay two smaller Prometheus types sat alongside them, one French fighter carrier variant of the original design and a Canadian built version of the British designed Achilles Class which was to the Prometheus what the Exeter was to the Daedalus. Little more than a heavily modified gun platform in place of fighter cover, something that would come in useful against any heavy ships that might interrupt the fleet’s sport.Supplies and munitions were being shipped aboard from the Battlestation both from its own copious stores and from the ground depots of the IOA countries, enough weaponry to allow them to stay on station for several weeks and enough consumables for three months just in case. In this case unlike the join missions the American ships have been on the foodstuffs and potables were different on each ship, quartermasters had already requested more of certain types of rations and non ration edibles knowing that the other ships in the fleet would begin swapping their supplies within the first few weeks on active duty.Railgun shells of all types and calibres were already aboard the vessels, beamed directly to the magazine where they were checked and installed into their cradles while spares were secured close by for quick replacement in battle. The plasma weapons were checked over and their hook ups to the main and secondary reactors throughout each ship before being secured and locked down. The new weapons were superior to the other weapons that had been installed on the other ships of the fleet with a higher yield and faster firing capacitors.The mark six and seven Naquada enhanced nuclear weapons were still awaiting loading at a secure location on the planet’s surface far below, modifications to existing weapons were as slow and as difficult as building the weapons from the ground up meaning that with every ship commissioned an entire war load had to be manufactured for shipboard use. Fortunately with the Nuclear powers of the world all onside with the IOA the missiles were mass produced and ready for use. The ships of the Raider Fleet would put in immense dent into the stockpile as they left, their launchers full and more sitting in specially modified weapons bunkers in the main hulls of each vessel.“Wing Commander Mayall.” The voice came from behind the British officer startling him slightly as he looked over his tablet, turning around he saw his superior and commander walking down the concourse. He acknowledged the other man. “General Caldwell, congratulations on the promotion.”“Thank you, what’s the state of the resupply?”“Going steadily, we’re at seventy seven percent of consumables, ninety percent of munitions excepting the nuclear missiles and almost fifty percent on crew. We should be ready to go ahead of time by about twenty or so hours, more if the missiles are ready for delivery on time. I’m afraid the heavy shells for the gunships are taking more time than we envisaged to be stacked away; fortunately the Dubois crew have been willing to get dug in to assist the other ships. Remarkable.”“Still a bit of friction there, Eddie?”“Not as such. The British and French crews have been more than willing to work together on this. Seems their want to hit the Colonials has brushed over the dislike that the two groups would have had normally. In fact, several of the crew of the French ship have already taped out an area of their flight deck. I believe we’re looking at a five a side tournament between combats.”“I’ll never understand you people.” Caldwell shook his head. “What about the 302s?”“The entire wing is undergoing final maintenance at the Alpha Yards and McMurdo. They should be joining us shortly before the jump to hyperspace. One of the squadrons has been replaced by a Russian fighter screen, apparently to be attached to the Hammond as a gesture to the Russians due to the fact that we won’t allow them to join the fleet.”“Great, that’s all I need.”“Indeed.” Mayall replied. “Fortunately the rest of the fleet is still in one piece although apparently there is some kerfuffle at Fleet HQ about the IOA trying to have the Achilles stay behind for one reason or another. I don’t think the gents at the Crucible would agree to that.”“Got that right.” Caldwell nodded. “We need every gun we can get out there if we get jumped by the Colonials.”“Well sir, you were there in the last fight. I gather you know how they fight and if they can even hurt us?”“They can hurt us alright, their weapons can unseat our shield generators and the Apollo was killed by a ramming attack. Losing a destroyer for one of our cruisers is a price they’d pay.” The General looked out of the concourse windows at his new command, the viewports could be closed down in case of attack but for the moment it allowed the foot traffic to look out at the ships of the Raider fleet as they began their gradual power up and final testing of their systems. “I’d prefer to be taking the Daedalus with me.”“I understand that Sir, but I believe I have something… ah here it is.” Mayall brought up a memo on his tablet, “The Daedalus has been named as the new flagship of the fleet due to damage sustained by the Odyssey. It was decided than an intact and active ship needed to be recalled and kept as the fleet’s main command vessel. A refit will begin immediately to allow the vessel to be used to co-ordinate large scale actions as befits the flagship.”Caldwell’s eyebrows lifted slightly as he was offered the tablet. He studied the data as it scrolled down showing him the latest information downloaded from the main IOA secure servers aboard the space station which themselves were tied into the IOA and HWS servers through a tight beam hyperspace based communications system designed and refit by the Asgard during their time in the sol system. He hadn’t been informed directly about the status change for his own ship even though it was currently still technically under his command even while he was assigned the Hammond for the raids on the Colonials.Looking over the Hammond, he could make out the slightly larger lines of his flagship compared to the Daedalus and her sisters. The hatches that usually hid the missiles were missing with twin heavy doors in their place with another pair of identical ports underneath the bow of the ship. The double quartet of plasma cannon turrets were stowed pointing forward jutting out from the sides of the ship just enough to concentrate their fire forward of the ship. In all, she was a nasty piece of weaponry and just right for the war they were fighting.As a full, all gun version on the aforementioned DSCs, the Hammond may have far more firepower compared to all but her British sister class, but she was still not his command. He knew every foible, every ding and dent in his ship be they from space debris, enemy fire or accidental impacts on them from other ships… the incident with the prototype Apollo notwithstanding. The Daedalus was as much a part of him as any of his own limbs and we would feel her loss just as strongly. He had been told that your first real command was like your best woman and you would remember it just as fondly.Her loss would be damaging to the Earth forces especially considering her mystique as not only the first of her class but as a ship that seemed to be capable of surviving anything thrown at her when the newer versions of the class were being decommissioned or destroyed. But to him personally losing her to enemy action would be indescribable if he wasn’t with her, but losing her to someone else while being transferred would be a raw wound.“I thought you would have been told.”“No I hadn’t, bastards.”“Isn’t it good news then, sir?”“No it’s not, the damned IOA will have her rotting in orbit while the rest of the fleet are out fighting the Colonials and the Wraith. Being the ‘Flagship’ means that we fly the flag and shuttle politicians around the Galaxy keeping out of the fighting. It also means that they didn’t tell me because they’ve decided that I’m not her Commander anymore.”“Have you been in touch with General O’Neill, sir?”“Not for a while, why?”“He’s the one that issued the order. Both the Prometheus and Daedalus are to be kept in local space as the lead ships in the defence force that will protect Earth. There’s not much more about said force at the moment except that it will encompass about a quarter of all assembled forces we have as well as the majority of the fighter squadrons not used on our warships.” Mayall frowned. “I’m aware that you are attached to the Raiders for the short term, but shouldn’t you already have been made aware of the disposition of your command before it became public knowledge.”“Yes, I damned well should have.” The newly minted Brigadier was livid. He knew that the promotion had been made substantive recently and would lead to his first full fleet command. But he had assumed that he would return to the Daedalus and lead other units from there once the Raider fleet were experienced enough to allow for the rotation of personnel back to the other Earth ships. Now it seemed that he was either leaving the Daedalus or he was going to be planet bound permanently after the raider’s return, neither was something he particularly wanted. Irritated, the senior officer strode down the hallway towards the Hammond, Mayall followed him close by curious as to the destination of his commanding officer. Without turning to the adjutant Caldwell demanded “What time is it at the Crucible?”“About eleven thirty AM, sir.”“And where’s O’Neill?”“Umm.” Mayall tapped at his pad as they walked, “The General is… right ahead, sir.”Looking up, Caldwell saw Jack O’Neill slumped against the wall rubbing the bridge of his nose. The older man looked beyond exhausted as the approached. The look of the other man allowed Caldwell’s anger to ebb slightly. Whatever O’Neill was up to these days looked like it was taking its toll. Steven guessed that even with people like Davis, Callahan and Carter assisting him that the man would be weighed down by the work that his rank entailed.“General.”“General.”“Wing Commander.”“Sir.” Mayall saluted before dropping the arm at the American General’s nod. “If you will pardon me, sirs, I have work to get back to.”“Thank you, Wing Commander.” Jack nodded as the other man took off back to his work, turning to Caldwell he gestured to the entrance tube between the two ships. “I guess you’re a little pissed right now.”“What gave it away, sir?”Walking through the ship the two men were silent, one trying to suppress his anger while the other was just too tired to care. A few moments later and they entered the ship commander’s office located mid way between the bridge and the CO quarters on the same deck, slipping inside both men took seats, Jack consciously making sure he didn’t take the ‘big chair’ behind the desk instead sitting on the far more uncomfortable guest chair in front of the desk.“Alright,” Jack began. “I know you’re pissed about the Daedalus and I know that you are pissed at me for cutting those orders.”“Yes, sir.”“Stow the ‘Sir’, Stephen.” Jack blinked at his own choice of words before continuing on. “With the loss of the Odyssey, the Daedalus is the most famous ship the public know about, the decision to decommission and scrap a 304 got me in the shit with a lot of people and to be honest I agree with some of them. We need a new flagship and one that the rest of the fleet can get behind. With the exception of the Prometheus she’s the oldest and most decorated ship we have. With both prototype ships at full power with a decent refit each they will be seen as a symbol that we can and will defend Earth against anything that comes at us.”“We’ve stopped the Colonials, the Goa’uld, Wraith, pirates, smugglers and anything else that’s come our way, General. We’ve more than proved we can take on the best the universe can throw at us and come out on top.”“Yeah, I know. But most of that is still classified under Top Secret. The public saw us fight but they also saw us fail to stop a handful of nukes from killing tens of millions of people, fail to stop the Wraith hives forcing the Asgard to kill the second one and now they’ve found out that the Odyssey’s being scrapped and we’re sending out five of our ships to hit the Colonials,” Jack explained. “We needed a sign to say ‘hey we know we need to protect this world and so we’re keeping these two ass-kicking ships right here in case anyone tries to piss us off again.”“So what happens when the Raider fleet comes back?”“You’ll have a choice, Steven. One you keep command of the Hammond and the continue training our crews by attacking Colonial convoys and anything else you can find. The fleet will rotate ships in and out of that fleet with the Hammond and Achilles staying as command ships for the Raiders. Or, you can come back, hand over command of those ships to whoever is next in line, retake command of the Daedalus and command the local defence fleet staying in close range to Earth or you can retire and I really don’t recommend that it’s not as fun as it sounds.”Hell of a choice Caldwell mused, take a new command and be in the thick of fighting teaching newbies how to fight a space war or keep his own ship and end up on a permanent flag flying operation at the back and call of the politicians. Neither was something he wanted to do if he could help it, especially losing the Daedalus.“But the Daedalus will also be undergoing a refit before she’s commissioned back into active service. Thor’s agreed to install another Asgard cannon into her bow as well as improve the shields of both ships. We’ll be installing a couple of plasma cannons as well. She’ll be losing the bomb bay and a few missiles but we think it’s worth the trade off.”“So both of the most powerful ships are being kept behind in case we’re attacked by someone with a bug up their backside about us while less powerful ships are sent to attack someone we’re at war with?” Caldwell was apoplectic at this. “What the hell are you thinking, Jack?”“I’m thinking about the fact that right now the IOA are on my ass about just about everything. The Jaffa are trying to screw us on deals we made in good faith even after their people tried to wipe us out, Atlantis has screwed up AGAIN, the public are getting pissy about the fact we’re still at war and haven’t done anything since that raid which oh yeah KILLED TWO BILLION PEOPLE and the Asgard are about to go bye-bye and leave us looking after the protected planets, Earth, Lantea and their own sanctuary which they’ve decided to build on the far side of the sun. THAT is what I’m thinking.” O’Neill had finally snapped. “I’ve slept six hours in the last thirty three, had to decommission a warship we sorely need, send out hundreds of men and women in a fleet that might not come back and the damned mess at the Crucible was out of Blue Jello.”O’Neill slumped back in his chair feeling far older than his fifty plus years. He hadn’t meant to snap at the other man but with everything that had been on his mind for the last few weeks he was exhausted, stressed and was damned sure that he now knew what old George felt every time that he received one piece of bad news after another. And he knew he had at least one ulcer growing on his stomach.“Jack, you really need some time off.” Caldwell’s temper fizzled out as the exhausted and half defeated words of his commander.“Yeah, tell me about it.”“How long since you went on a vacation?”“Too damned long. My cabin in Minnesota was torched when someone who didn’t like what we were doing found out it was mine. They poured oil and sewage into the pond and killed all the local plants. I sold the land to a company to renovate it.” O’Neill grimaced. “My house in Washington was under permanent guard but I’ve not been back there in six months.”“Nowhere else you can go?”“Nope, no family and all my friends are part of the SGC or offworld.”“Sorry Jack I didn’t realise it was that bad.”“Never mind, you didn’t know.”“You need to delegate more.”“I have, Paul Davis has more to do than me.”“I’d offer you a drink but I’ve not moved in here yet.”“I’ve had too much this week as it is,” Jack replied. “I’m tempted to take one of these things out for a maiden voyage and get some sleep.”“Jack if you went out in this ship one of two things would happen…”“Yeah. Yeah, I know… ‘The O’Neill Curse.”“To be fair, sir, every ship you go aboard for any length of time ends up destroyed, shot up or lost in some way,” Caldwell smirked. “Atlantis has one as well. ‘The Sheppard Effect.’ Anything he touches blows up or gets attacked.”“Nice to know I’m not alone,” Jack snarked back., “So which one is it gonna be Steven? Raider Fleet Command or Home Fleet Command?”“How long do I have to choose?”“Until you get back from the Cyrannus System. It’ll take a few weeks to refit the Daedalus anyway. Either way whichever you choose we’ll put someone in the other post. Hell, I’ve got applicants from twenty countries on my desk for it.” O’Neill sighed. “I’m not going to pressure you either way but sooner or later you’ll have to make the decision. You’ve got six weeks on station to think about it.”“Alright, I’ll try. Anything else?”“Yeah, we’ll be sending someone out to you to make contact with the Cylons.”“I thought that was why we interviewed the former POWs. Put a couple in the fleet in case we ran into them.”“Change of plan. You’re taking the Cylons alright but we’ll be sending a couple of Apollos out with one of our diplomats as well as replacement missiles for the other ships.”“Who are we getting?”“Ambassador Richard Woolsey.”“Woolsey? Are you sure you haven’t been drinking already?”“Not my idea this time,” Jack smirked. “This one I could solely pin on Paul Davis.”Caldwell hadn’t had much to do with the former IOA member. He knew of the other man’s reputation within the SGC and the fleet both the good and the bad but up until now had only had a few run ins with the politician. He couldn’t disagree with the man’s record but he was very unsure as to the suitability of a civilian being added to the crew especially one that was inexperienced with the intricacies of space travel and combat.“We leave in a week Jack, and then if this works we’ll be in and around the Cyrannus system for about a month. You think he’ll be ready in that time?”“In all honesty no I don’t, but I’ve been surprised by civilians more than once over the years.”“Like Jackson?”“Like Daniel, Jonas, Weir and her people, even McKay when he’s not being unbearable.”“Never thought I’d hear that from you.”“Me neither.” Jack pulled himself out of the chair. “Anyway I’m going home for once and sleeping for three days, Davis is in command down there and Ronson is commanding the fleet so if you need anything go through them first.”“I will.”“Good luck Steven, see you in a week.” Jack nodded before leaving the room.Alone, Caldwell slumped in his chair not particularly mollified by the conversation regarding his command status but more than humbled by the fact that he had far less to do and a far easier job than the command staff had. His position, be it as commander or one fleet or another, could be assured for the foreseeable future. Those of his commanders could be up in the air before he returned home for all he knew and that was something that they could do without.
