Word Count:
Date: 03/28/05
Series:
Rating:T
Category: Relationships
Pairing/Focus: W/R
Warnings:
Summary: The survivors of the Holocaust have finally reached Earth, but they find out that’s not the end of their problems
Spoilers/Disclaimers:Battlestar Galactica and its characters are creations of Glen Larson and copywrited by Universal Studios. I make no money off of this.
Beta: Mariel & Elly
Colonial speech: " "
English speech:‘‘
Chapter Fifty
Felix stood in the hanger area, feeling slightly uncomfortable in his formal gray uniform. Commander Tigh had already arrived, and was talking to Adama. All they were waiting for were the Terrans. As he caught sight of the arriving shuttle he couldn't help but think of Angela. Every time he pushed the images away, they seemed to come back even stronger with a vengeance. Please , he sighed.
Somehow he managed to push it to the back of his mind as the Terran shuttle's door opened. The officer that stepped out was taller than he, but then again, many officers were taller than he was. ‘Commander Logan, Admiral Orbach's Chief-of-staff. Permission to come aboard?' the Terran asked.
‘Permission granted,' Gaeta answered while nodding his head. They stood there for a moment before Gaeta continued, ‘Welcome on board. I am the Executive Officer, Major Gaeta.' Logan's eyebrows raised slightly in surprise. ‘If you will come this way,' Gaeta continued as he swept his arm in the direction they were to move.
‘Major, I would like to see the facilities, and go over any protocol issues, along with coordinating everything in preparation for Admiral Orbach's arrival.'
‘It should not take too long, Commander.' Gaeta paused before continuing, ‘We should be finished in plenty of time. I will be going in a different way because of the time limits.'
The trip didn't take very long, but long enough for Felix to get slightly distracted from the images that kept coming back. Just as they reached the Ward Room he was finally able to forcefully push them to the back of his mind. The younger officer had no idea he was being watched closely. The inspection and discussion of the protocol issues went fairly quickly and they left the stewards to put the finishing touches on the room.
Gaeta shook his head, ‘We are not prepared for formal discussions with Admiral Orbach.'
‘Don't worry, Major. This is just a first meeting of the two sides. No issues will be discussed unless someone brings something up in conversation.'
Without realizing it, Gaeta slipped into the Colonial language, “Good.”
Logan looked at the younger officer, ‘What?'
‘Sorry about that,' Felix gave him a wan smile.
Logan let it drop as they went back to the hanger deck. For the Terran the trip back was just as enlightening as it was going to the Ward Room. He learned a lot about the condition of the Colonial military just from what he observed in the corridors. There was a definite lack of personnel, and what few members of the crew the military vessel he saw were either very young or almost to retirement age. ‘Major, I will head back to the Goch and let the Admiral know that everything is ready. Let you commanding officer know he'll be over in about thirty minutes.'
Gaeta nodded and watched as the Terran commander boarded the shuttle. When it was gone, he turned around and left the hanger. His mind was so preoccupied that he found himself in front of Adama's quarters with no clear recollection of traveling the corridors that had led him there. The guards quickly let him through and he looked around the quarters for a moment. “Commander Logan stated that Admiral Orbach will be here in two hours.”
“Commander Logan?” Tigh asked in surprise.
“Sir, he's the Terran Admiral's Chief-of-Staff,” Gaeta answered suddenly tired. He did not want to be there.
“Why don't you go and rest for an hour,” Laura said in an almost motherly tone. Without thinking he turned around and went out the door.
Laura stepped closer to Adama. “How much sleep has he had in the last few days?” she asked in an undertone.
Adama looked at Gaeta before answering, “Little, if any.”
“Well, I think you're pushing him too hard,” she pointed out.
“I'm not the one pushing him. He's doing it by himself.” He shook his head.
Laura nodded slowly, “Have you decided on what to do?”
“I'll talk to him afterwards.”
~~~~~~~
The reception was a semi-formal affair designed to allow both sides to meet each other in a social, rather than political, atmosphere. It wasn't that much of a surprise to see Captain O'Neill accompany the American admiral. What was unexpected was Captain Donelson. Donelson had his ship escort the Goch to the Pictavian system. Both were now undergoing routine maintenance while waiting for word from the Admiralty on their new orders.
Orbach stopped in front of Adama. The Colonial Admiral didn't need height to show he was in control, it exuded from him. “Permission to come a board?” he stumbled slightly over the foreign words.
O'Neill had obviously coached him on the formal greeting. It was a pleasant surprise nonetheless. “Permission granted,” Adama answered with a slight smile. “Welcome to the Galactica .” O'Neill whispered something to Orbach, who nodded to Adama.
“If you will come with me?” Adama directed the group to the nearest corridor. It led into the ship itself. Within a few minutes of their arrival, they were in the Ward Room. Thirteen flags were spaced at regular intervals on the far wall. Pictures were placed decoratively around the room. The tables were pushed to the far wall, leaving a large open space in the middle. One of the tables had a variety of delicacies unique to each colony.
Soon enough President Roslin made her appearance, escorted by her senior aide. It was quickly realized that Captain O'Neill was the only one that could speak the Colonials language. Donelson was in the same position that Admiral Orbach was in. He could use pat phrases only after some initial coaching. Then there was Major Gaeta. He might have been there physically, but he was still distracted. It was also beginning to affect his ability to perform his duties.
The settling process for the refugees was going somewhat slowly, but the planetary government thought it was better for whole families to move down instead of everyone demanding to land and set up a household. What kept them on board was the slim knowledge that each house was set up and fully functioning before a family could move in. Once the families were planetside, the construction workers worked as fast as they could so that decent housing for the single population would be ready as soon as possible. Word went out over the wireless that it would take at least two more weeks before those were ready. The clinic had been completed for some time, and when those who didn't have housing yet went to visit the doctor, they were given a tour of the burgeoning city. Once finished, the civilians would be able to pick up their lives. The one problem was the economy. Except for the black market, there was almost nothing. The food stores and clothing stores in Avalon had agreed to build branches in the new community and to accept not only the pict dollar, but the colonial credit as well. What was offered in the stores would be the same price. To make things easier, the credit and dollar were slaved together for the time being.
“Admiral, you never really mentioned why these Cylons are attempting to destroy you,” Mair stated.
Adama had known she would bring up that particular subject. Neither he or Roslin had mentioned the real reasons why, only that they were being chased from their homes. He had also warned the President that the Terrans would eventually want to know why they were chased from their homes. “Captain, before I can answer your questions I need to talk to President Roslin.”
“Good. Before we do anything more the Terran government does like to know what it's getting into.”
Adama nodded, fully aware of what O'Neill really meant even when her tone of voice was pleasant. “Which I am fully aware of Captain,” he answered then backed away when Orbach came over to their position. He was looking at both of them with a hint of curiosity, but that was it. Bill eventually found Laura a few feet away, looking at him. Gaeta was off to the side, still looking miserable. “Madam President,” he started softly. The volume and tone surprised her more than anything. “Captain O'Neill has specifically asked about the Cylons.”
“I don't want to talk about that subject here, the place is too open and there are some Terrans who would understand.”
“We can't hold off forever; they do want to know what's going on,” he answered calmly.
Laura sighed, “I know, Bill. We can talk about the cylons and our options after the reception.”
Adama nodded while letting his gase sweep around the small group gathered. He was surprised that even with the language barrior, Tigh seemed to be getting along well with the other Terran captain who had come. Mark Donelson was writing something down on his pda with a grin on his face. “This should be interesting,” he quietly commented to Laura.
“What?” she asked as she looked around.
“Saul with one of the Terran captains. I'm almost afraid of what will come out of it,” he answered with a wry grin.
Laura gave him an equally wry grin. “You're right about that.”
~~~
Laura sat down on the couch with a sigh. “At least that's over with,” she muttered.
“It was enlightening,” Bill answered as he handed her a glass.
“What? With Saul?” she asked with a twinkle in her eyes.
“That. . .and how O'Neill brought up the question about the Cylons early on in the reception.”
“Oh, that. Right,” she sighed as she closed her eyes. “You never mentioned your thoughts about the Terran Admiral.” She lolled her head in his direction and waited for his response.
“I'm not sure yet. Like Captain O'Neill, I wasn't able to read him that well. He seems nice enough on the outside.” Bill shook his head. “I don't want to take any chances.” He looked down to his glass, contemplating it for a moment. “Then there are the Cylons.”
“Right.” Laura nodded noncommittally.
“Next time O'Neill asks, I will tell her.”
“About the Cylons?” Laura looked at him sharply, but backed down when she saw his look.
“Yes.” He was about to say something more when the door to the corridor opened up. The marine on guard snapped to attention, “Admiral, Chief Petty Officer Tyrol to see you.”
Leaving his glass on the coffee table, Adama stood up and moved towards the door. “Let him in.” He glanced back and saw Laura reach for one of her folders.
“Sir?”
“What is it, Chief?” Adama answered as he brought his attention back to the younger noncom.
“I was able to diagnose the problem with the crashed raptor. It was a catastrophic hydraulic failure, most likely due to lack of maintenance and metal fatigue.” Tyrol looked down for a moment. His people had been so overwhelmed that the vipers were the ones to get the maintenance before the raptors. This raptor was used mainly as a shuttle for the smaller Colonial vessels.
Frak. I do not need this. “All right. I want them up to date on maintenance and flight ready as soon as possible. If you're short on parts, make a list and I'll see to it that you get what you need.”
“Yes, sir,” Tyrol nodded quickly.
“Good. You're dismissed,” Adama ended the short conversation. He sat down when they were alone once again.
“Well, that's just great, Bill. What are we going to do?” Laura asked while pulling off her glasses.
“The only thing we can do. Have them grounded until they pass all safety inspections.” He sat down beside her once again.
Laura was silent for a moment before asking, “So, what am I going to use as transport?”
“The repairs on Colonial One are almost finished. Until it's finished and we can get the ship planetside, we'll have to use the Pegasus 's raptors. I'll have Saul make sure those also pass safety inspections.” He reached over and rubbed her back.
“And Gaeta? He seemed very distracted. Any word?”
Bill shook his head. “No.” He looked off to the side. “I'll make sure he has a special dispensation to go planetside. Racetrack is down there, as well.”
“How's she doing?” Laura asked.
“Better, Gaeta reported that she regained consciousness.”
“That's good. With the population as low as it is, everyone is important.”
~~~~~~~
Orbach walked into his office the next morning appearing, somewhat relaxed. The progress that had been made just from the initial meeting and followup reception was very encouraging. The Colonials were holding something back; Captain O'Neill had said as much. Logan came in with a knowing look on his face, but he ignored it.
‘Commander, I want you to draw up the paperwork for me to request a flag ship.'
‘Yes, sir,' he answered. ‘Which one did you have in mind?'
‘The Goch .' Orbach qualified by continuing, ‘I need someone that can communicate with the Colonials without any problems. Captain O'Neill has proven to me that she's the officer for the position.'
Logan nodded while taking some notes. ‘Yes, sir. Anything else?'
‘I'd like to see the initial offer Ambassador Garcia placed on the table.'
Chapter Fifty-one (interlude 1)
“This is not good,” Cavil looked down at the console before him. There was plenty of room for the other models to gather.
“Of course it's not good!” a Three hissed. “Not only have we lost the fleet, but we've lost several models. Look!” She projected images from the skirmish that had just taken place. Being outmaneuvered by an unknown race was a bitter pill to swallow.
“Anything?” Cavil turned to one of the Eights.
“I told you, she disconnected herself. I have no way of reaching her.”
It had taken several hours of intense work to get rid of the computer virus that had been sent during that particular skirmish. “Whatever they sent, it knew how to get into our systems,” a Doral model spoke.
“Let's not get in over our heads. First things first. Do we know who these people are?”
“No,” several spoke at the same time.
“Finding out who they are should be our first goal. Next, we need to find out why the humans are with them.”
“How?” Three asked.
“By this,” Cavil focused the image on a group of ships. “These look like they could be for supplies. They're relatively unprotected, so it should be fairly simple to take them out.”
“But not before we get much needed information from them, like who they are,” Three added.
“True, true.”
“It is God's will,” Six spoke for the first time. “Therefore, we will succeed.”
~~~~~~~
Felix woke with a start, covered in sweat and breathing hard. “It was only a dream,” he muttered as he rubbed his face. “Gods, please only a dream.” His cabin was dark, except for the runner lights along the floor against the bulkheads. Sitting up, he ran a hand through his short hair. What was worse was that he could do nothing about it. At least the Admiral would have told him if anything had changed.
It was only after he managed to get his breathing under control that he even began to think about what he could do to help. He was only allowed to go down to visit once a week, which wasn't enough in his estimation. If it had been his choice, he'd be there every day, but it wasn't. The Admiral needed him on board, more so now with his skills in speaking English. Without thinking, he twisted around and turned on the small lamp. The small bulb splashed enough light throughout the cabin to prevent anyone from tripping over anything. The lamp was situated between two items, his small clock and a somewhat nondescript box. It was the box he reached for this time.
Setting it on his lap, he looked at it for several long moments. Like many others, he did believe in the gods of his youth. Sometimes they were all he had to hold onto. President Roslin, though, took it a bit far by saying she was a prophet. Opening it revealed the rich velvet material that enveloped the idols tucked in its soft folds. He had received the box and idols during the traditional coming of age ceremony. The ring was forever lost back on Leonis. He had had it replaced as soon as it was humanly possible. Over the years he had changed out the traditional senior idols for the ones he felt more of a connection with. There were two from the original set he held onto, and that was Athena, his patron, and Apollo. Athena knew next to nothing about healing, but he knew he could easily offend her if he didn't start with her.
Dipping his hand into the box, he slowly removed the material and unfolded it to reveal his personal idols. He rarely had time anymore to make even a quick stop at any of the ship shrines; no one had the time anymore. Felix took the two small idols and gently held them while closing the box. The bed before him was flat enough so he could make an altar with the box and material. Once properly situated, he gently placed the two icons on the expensive material, and looked at them for a moment to gather his thoughts. “Athena, patron of wisdom, hear my prayers,” he started the traditional chant. “I call on you to bless Angela for she has chosen the path of the warrior woman. I also call on you to give her the skill to make war, and wisdom to know when not to. Apollo, god of healing, hear my prayer. I call on you for your healing power for her healing. I also call on you to look after Margaret and her healing.” Feeling like he was finished he leaned back and sighed. Just as he was reaching for the idols he remembered that Angela had her own belief system. The problem was, he had no idea who she believed in.
Thinking it would be very bad, and offend her god if he forgot to include him or her, he closed his eyes to think for a moment. “I do not know who you are, but I do know she has her own beliefs. . .” he hesitated for a moment, not quite sure how to continue, “I call on your healing power to restore her health.”
~~~~~~~
‘Sir, Ambassador Garcia's office has finally sent over the initial offer,' Lieutenant Commander Kimberly Erbe stepped into Orbach's office and handed him a small case.
‘Thank you, Commander,' he glanced at her and what she handed over. Not much of a proposal . Once she was dismissed, he opened it up. Garcia wasn't the kind of person to have any type of document coming from his office to be unprofessional looking. This one looked like it had been hastily drawn up. It looked good, but didn't have the professional quality his documents normally had. ‘This is interesting,' he muttered as he looked at it a little bit more carefully. The Spaniard might not have had the time to get everything perfect, he mused. Then again, he had read worse quality proposals before.
As he worked his way through the single document his eyes began to narrow. Eventually he shoved it away. He did not. . .
He deliberately closed his eyes and took a deep calming breath. Yelling at the officers under him might make him feel better, but not anyone else. Once he felt sufficiently calmed down he called his chief-of-staff, ‘Logan, I want you to contact Prime Minister Hamilton and Admiral Jackson. I'd like to have a meeting with them about their new visitors and what can be done to help both sides.'
Chapter Fifty-two
Felix Gaeta slowly walked through the hospital corridors. It had been several long days since he had been there. The first thing he was going to do, though, was to check on Racetrack. In a way it bothered him that there was no one to sit with her. That being the case, he decided to bring the pda Angela had given him early on, the same one that had English lessons on it, and give it to her. If anything, she could learn the planet's language, and communicate with the doctors.
So much had happened that he felt like he was in a fog. It didn't help that he wasn't sleeping. He stopped suddenly when he reached the end of the hall. I must have passed her room without thinking . He turned around and looked back down the corridor. There were many health care workers moving in and out of the rooms. This time he moved down the corridor with a purpose. Lieutenant Edmonson's room was in the middle. The door was open a crack and he could hear sounds coming from inside. “Lieutenant?” he asked as he pushed it open.
Gaeta had to admit it was good to see her awake. Tubes were still sticking out of her in different places. The noise he had heard was coming from a monitor on a stand bolted to the wall. It reminded him of the viewers back on Caprica, though it was much more compact. Angela had called it a telly.
Racetrack slowly brought her head around slowly. Her eyes brightened with recognition for a moment before dying away. “I'm sorry,” she said in a broken whisper as she turned her face back to the wall.
“For what?” Gaeta sat down in the sole chair.
“For what happened. . .sir.”
Felix sighed. “It's not your fault. It was a freak accident.” He hesitated before continuing, “Tyrol has already narrowed the catalyst to the hydraulics. I want you to tell me what you remember.”
Margaret shook her head slowly. “I'm not sure. . .T-there was an explosion, followed by a hard thrust to port. . .I-it's hard to remember.”
Gaeta sighed. This whole thing was giving him a headache. “You're doing fine,” he offered, trying to give her at least some level of comfort. Now I know what Adama goes through . “Do you remember anything else?”
“Not much,” she said groggily. “Couldn't control the speed. . .did what I could. . .” She was quickly fading towards what looked like sleep.
“Are you finished?” an angry voice came from behind.
Felix turned around and looked at the individual standing in the door. He recognized Jankowitz immediately. “Admiral Adama wanted a report on what happened.”
“She is in no condition at the present time to answer any questions,” he brushed past Gaeta and moved to the other side of the bed.
The Colonial officer took that as a dismissal and slowly backed out of the room. Doctors will forever be the same.
‘Sir?' an unknown voice broke through his musing. ‘Yes?' Gaeta turned to look. The man looked like he was one of the Terran pilots.
‘Uh. . .is anyone in there right now?' he indicated the door into Lieutenant Edmondson's hospital room.
‘One of the doctors.' Gaeta let a wry grin cross his face at the Terran's reaction. He glanced down to the nametag. That might be something we can add to the uniform. ‘Why are you here, Janes?' he queried.
‘I, um, thought it was sad that she didn't have anyone there to sit with her,' Janes gave him a slightly guilty look. ‘You know, her family needs to know that she's hurt.'
Gaeta gave him a sad smile. ‘There's no one left.' He didn't want to go further into the matter. ‘It is not good for her to be alone,' he said in a low voice as he brushed past the Terran. Once he made it around the corner, he sighed and leaned up against the wall. Janes was right, it's not good for Racetrack to be alone, but there just weren't enough people anymore.
He opened his eyes, and pulled out the pda from his breast pocket. What Margaret had told him did fit in with Tyrol's reports. He jotted down her comments, then turned it off as he put it back in his pocket. Adama needed to get the report, but he wasn't sure how to get it up to the Admiral when he was planetside. He'd have to think up something.
The room Angela was in was on a different floor. Stepping out of the elevator, he noticed how things were much more intense. Pushing the thoughts from his mind, he moved over to the nurses' desk. ‘Can you tell me where Lieutenant Angela Glennan's room is?'
‘Third door down the hall,' the man currently stationed behind the desk answered.
‘Thank you,' Felix answered as he left the desk and went towards her room. It was his worst fear that she'd look the same as when she had come out of surgery. It had been four days since he had been planetside, and he had heard nothing from the hospital or Captain O'Neill of her condition. The room she was in had no door. Medical equipment cluttered around her bed and in between it all her lone visitor was her mother, Katelyn. His mind drifted back to Racetrack and how no one was there for her. It had saddened him to see her alone. At least Angela has her mother to sit beside her. What surprised him was about half of the computers had been turned off, and she was breathing on her own. When she had come out of surgery even he could tell she had been on complete life support.
‘The PTSC was here a short time ago. They're wanting to know what happened,' Katelyn commented.
‘I'm not sure who you are talking about,' Felix answered in confusion.
‘It's a safety commission that investigates airplane accidents to find their cause.' She glanced up at him before turning her attention back to Angela. ‘I never expected this to happen.'
‘Ma'am,' he fumbled over what he wanted to say. ‘What about those? Why are they off?' he indicated the computers.
‘Because her diaphragm and lungs were repaired sufficiently for her to breathe on her own. The doctors are still watching her liver and kidneys closely. If they don't improve in the next 24 to 48 hours, they will have to be replaced.'
‘I see,' Gaeta nodded absently.
‘How long are you going to be here?' the older woman asked.
‘I can be here for a while.'
~~~~~~~
On the other side of the capital city, Admiral Orbach sat in a somewhat ornate, but sparsely decorated waiting area. Just by sight alone, he could tell the planet was once a colony of the UK. The Scandinavians liked their simple clean lines, but many of the countries that made up the EU preferred more ornate decorations. The English used an odd mixture of the ornate furniture and designs for the government buildings, and rustic country charm for their homes.
A formally dressed aide opened the door to the office and stepped inside the waiting area. ‘Admiral, the Prime Minister will see you now.'
‘Thank you.' Orbach stood up. He picked up his attaché case and walked into the next room. Prime Minister Alistar Hamilton was seated at a table. The desk was in the back corner, completely covered in papers. The last time he had been here had been right after Hamilton had been elected. That had been last year. ‘So Admiral, you have something for me?'
‘You could say that, sir.' Jeremiah gave him a wry smile as he moved deeper into the room. ‘It's more interesting than anything else.' He set the case down and waited patiently for the senior minister to stand up. Instead of getting to his feet, Alistar pointed to a chair on the other side of the table. ‘Sit down, Admiral. I've known you long enough to know when you're angry at something.'
‘Thank you,' he sat down and opened his case. ‘I'm here about your new visitors.'
‘Is that why you're angry?' Hamilton leaned back.
‘No,' Jeremiah shook his head. ‘I'm angry at us, and what Garcia managed to get away with.'
Alistar held out his hand, ‘Let me see.' The room was quiet for several minutes as Hamilton read through the proposal. ‘You're right,' he said disgustedly as he tossed the sheets back on the table. ‘Did they sign it?' he asked suddenly.
‘Not that I know of, sir,' the American admiral shook his head.
‘Good. If they did, we wouldn't be able to do a damn thing,' Hamilton mused.
Jeremiah narrowed his eyes. ‘What are you talking about?'
Alistar reached for the proposal again. ‘I noticed,' he started while glancing through it, ‘that we would “watch over” their technology to make sure it's not exploited.'
‘The only people best suited for that job would be the Colonials themselves.'
‘What type of infrastructure do they have left?' Hamilton handed the proposal back to Orbach.
The Admiral shook his head, ‘From what I've found out, not much of one at the moment.'
‘Which means they'll need people and maybe even a shipyard. If I can get the people here to invest in the Colonials it could easily revitalize our economy.' Hamilton opened up his computer writing program and started entering information into it. ‘Money is another thing,' he muttered.
‘Money? What do you mean by money?' Orbach leaned forward in interest.
‘What type of monetary system do they have, and what is it called? I'll have to talk with their senior government officials to see if we can do something to make sure the money situation doesn't get out of hand.'
‘I'm not sure of what they have. Are you talking about slaving the two systems together?' The conversation was quickly going over his head, but he did know about this.
Alistar nodded in approval, ‘I didn't even think about that. That would be perfect. But, I think you're more interested in seeing what can be done with the two militaries.'
‘You think right,' Orbach answered with a grin. ‘Their pride means more than anything else, and from what little I've seen, the military is very important to them. They want to control it as much as possible. I intend to honor that.'
‘Sir,' Alistar's senior aide stepped through the door. ‘Admiral Jackson is here.'
‘Send him in, Parker.'
The senior Pictavian military officer walked through the door a moment later. His natural skin color made his uniform seem whiter than it actually was. After a quick salute, he relaxed slightly.
‘Admiral Jackson, Orbach and I were just discussing the issues that the refugees have created.' Alistar indicated another chair that was available.
‘Yes, sir,' he answered and moved over to sit down. ‘I've had my people monitoring the situation. With the exception of those two capital ships, they seem harmless enough.'
‘What do you think of possibly creating a military alliance with them?'
Jackson barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes. ‘They've only got, what, a couple thousand in their military? I don't see how that could happen.'
‘Jackson, like it or not, it looks like they'll be here for some time. I want to be on good terms with them from the very beginning.'
‘Admiral, I've talked to Captain O'Neill, and she's stated that their faster than light travel is completely different from ours. I would think it could be a boon for your people,' Orbach commented.
‘It's also going to give me major headaches until everything is worked out.'
‘Once word gets out, you'll be the envy of the Terran navy, because you will have direct access to the Colonial's FTL drive,' Alistar said with an amused look on his face.
Jackson looked from one to another for a moment, debating on whether he should take it or not. ‘I'll take it, for now. Are my people going to have to learn their language?'
‘You have no choice in the matter, Admiral. And your question about the language issues? At the moment, yes. We will tell the Colonials that it will be in their best interest for their military personnel to learn English. They'll be “encouraged” to learn the language since everything will be handled in English.'
‘Good, it'll be hard enough as it is without the language barrier.'
~~~~~~~
Dr. Elizabeth Duncan rubbed her eyes tiredly. Ever since Captain O'Neill had taken that shot, she had been on the hunt for whatever it was that had altered her health. It had not been for her to have gone off and got the shots without notifying her beforehand. She had made her thoughts known emphatically when O'Neill had come back. O'Neill was her patient and not part of the refugees. No telling what the quality of their healthcare was.
Then there was this. Whatever it was that they had given her had taken care of her fibromyalgia. The sample she was looking at was of O'Neill's blood. There were some interesting things that hadn't been there before. But before she could do anything, she had to filter out all the known elements, which left her with what she was about to study.
‘Let's see what we've got,' she muttered as she looked through the microscope. From there she introduced several known cancer cells. What shocked her was the speed with witch the unknown elements attacked the cancerous elements within the added cells. What was left in the end were several healthy cells, but with that odd signature. ‘Oh my. . .' she sat back, stunned. This was not what she had been expecting to see. If those elements could eradicate cancer that quickly, it was only a short jump to other types of auto-immune problems. And if it could take care of fibromyalgia and cancer. . . ‘The pharmaceutical companies will not be happy with this,' she muttered. ‘They'll use every bit of power they have to squelch it. This will put them out of business.' Getting the information out was only going to happen if the refugees patented the product.
Duncan logged the information, then put the samples back in the freezer. The next step was to map the genome so the DNA could be cloned. That would only happen after she had spoken to the Captain, and possibly Admiral Orbach.
‘Captain,' she acknowledged her as she stepped inside O'Neill's office.
‘What do you have for me?'
‘Other than still being angry about that procedure you had done without my consent? Yes, I have something for you.' Elizabeth sat down while looking at her notes.
‘I'm never going to hear the end of it, am I?' Mair said tiredly.
‘No you're not. I've told you before, it was foolish of you to do that. It could have killed you.' The silence between them was somewhat awkward before Duncan spoke again. ‘What I've been able to find is something very interesting. I took a sample of your blood and removed all the known elements. It left me with something that looked quite odd.' She put a piece of paper on the desk. ‘You will notice that it attacked cancerous cells quickly, leaving healthy ones behind. I'm surmising that it did the same thing with your own condition.' Duncan leaned back. ‘The refugees need to patent this as soon as possible because the drug companies will not like it and try to silence the information.'
Mair glanced over the sheet before answering, ‘Just the royalties alone would sustain any economy.'
‘Definitely, which is why they need to know their options.'
‘Who else knows about this?'
Elizabeth shook her head, ‘Just me so far. I was using the military research facilities, and you know how they feel about leaks.'
~~~~~~~
“They're human.”
“I don't think they would stay with them unless they were human,” Doral answered.
“Look,” Cavil pointed to the image laid out before them.
“So what, it's the same type of convoy we struck two days ago. If they're from what the Humans call the Lost 13th Colony --”
“They could be better with computers than any of us! We have to be careful. Look what happened last time,” Sharon almost yelled at the others. “How long did it take to clean out the computer system?” she asked Cavil harshly. “I don't want that happening again.”
“We shall infiltrate,” Six said calmly. “We achieved our goal two years ago by infiltration,” she left the comment hanging.
“Where's the closest convoy?” Cavil finally capitulated.
“Here,” Doral projected an image of the ships before them. Like before, it had minimal protection, and even that ship wasn't considered ‘heavy' by Colonial standards.
“Good. Prepare to jump,” Cavil ordered.
“Just like that?” Three said in surprise.
“What else is there?”
“True.” She paused before continuing, “Who will be going in?”
“Each of you,” Cavil said to the female models, “will send one of your models into separate lifepods. Once there, there will be just enough life-support to keep them alive. When rescued, the programming will be buried and only activated when needed.”
“It won't work,” Sharon shook her head.
“Yes it will. After going through their computer database we will make sure that we choose one of their own. And if they speak another language, the model will be programmed to speak only that.”
We should just leave them alone , Simon thought. He had been the one to work the hardest on removing the computer virus. It's only going to get worse.
The plan was executed without any problems. It was even better that the military vessel gave off a distress call. The Cylons put a homing beacon within the escape pod to see where it would be taken. Now they would wait.
Chapter Fifty-three
It wasn't that long before Katelyn returned. ‘Thank you for staying,' she said while sitting down in the other available chair.
Gaeta nodded. ‘You're welcome.' He looked at the monitors for a moment before continuing, ‘The doctors that came in while you were gone seemed pleased.'
‘Good.' She looked at him for a moment before continuing, ‘I want to thank you again for staying. You don't need to stay anymore.'
‘All right,' he nodded. Before he left, he gave her hand a squeeze. He wanted to stay, but at the same time he realized that he had spent enough time here. It was time for him to go back to his duties. There was also a report he had to give Adama about the accident.
Once back into the corridor, he pulled out his pda and looked over the notes he had made after talking with Racetrack. There wasn't much there, but probably enough to help Chief Tyrol.
‘Sir?' a woman's voice came from further down the corridor. Gaeta raised his head up and looked around, not quiet sure who was being addressed.
‘You're one of the Colonials?' the woman asked after she looked over his uniform. She was dressed in a formal suit, very similar to what their own government officials wore during Quorum meetings. Her glance made him think something was wrong. It made him look down at his uniform before he looked back towards the woman. ‘Yes. I am Major Gaeta, Executive officer of the Battlestar Galactica . Can I help you?'
She gave him a slight smile while answering, ‘Yes, you can. I was hoping you could tell me what happened to one of your small crafts. We lost two high ranking police officers because of it. Did the pilot survive?' She had her own pda out and was already taking notes.
‘Yes, she did survive. She is recovering right now.' For the moment he wasn't sure if he was allowed to give out any names. ‘She won't understand your questions.'
‘Really? Then why can you understand English? You don't seem to have that much of a foreign accent.'
Gaeta had no idea how to answer the question without giving too much information away. It was like being boxed in a corner. ‘I. . .I have been learning the language for the past few months,' and left it at that.
The woman seemed to accept his answer for the time being. She was about to ask another question when he decided to ask one of his own. ‘And you are?'
‘Harriet Spencer, lead investigator for the Pictavian Transportation Safety Committee,' she answered while offering her hand.
‘Ma'am, I'm not sure what you are wanting to hear. I can arrange with you to come on board the Galactica to speak with Chief Tyrol and work with him about the crash. I do know early findings have suggested it was equipment related, but I do not have any details at this moment.'
‘I see,' she nodded. ‘If it was one of your small craft, what about the others?'
“Grounded.”
‘What?' she asked.
Gaeta was tired, and frustrated at the same time. He realized he would have to be more careful of what he was saying. ‘I'm sorry, I do not know the word. All ships of that type are not flying until all are cleared.'
‘What you mean is that they're “grounded”,' she nodded in appreciation for the explanation. ‘So, I need to talk with Chief Tyrol?'
‘Yes, we will have someone that can translate for the meeting. He does not know this language.'
‘Thank you, Major. Your comments have been a big help for me.'
Gaeta nodded as he watched her move back down the corridor. The moment she turned the corner he pulled out his pda and jotted down what she asked him. He only hoped that he answered correctly. Being the executive officer came with a lot of responsibilities, and he felt like he barely even knew any of them. Before he left, he decided to check on Racetrack one last time. She seemed to have been fading off to sleep. He wanted to make sure that she was still all right.
A few minutes later he was standing outside her room. He could hear voices, but couldn't tell whose they belonged too. Gaeta almost pushed the door open, but stopped to listen once again. He could just make out what sounded like the early lessons Angela had and then he had once he really started learning English. Good for her, she'll need the skill . Felix let a slight smile cross his face as he turned back towards the elevator.
In less than two hours he was back on board the Galactica . All he really wanted to do was sleep, but he had to report his findings to Adama. If that government agency were like all the ones he had ever had dealings with, they'd have already have contacted the Admiral. Halfway up the first flight of stairs he felt the weight of his exhaustion on his bearing down on his shoulders. For the past week he had been so worried and wired that it had kept him from relaxing. Knowing that both Racetrack and Angela were in good hands for now, made him realize that it was okay to leave and go back to his duties.
As he neared the Admiral's quarters he was surprised to find that there were no guards at his door. He let Adama know he was there and waited patiently.
The door opened and he stepped inside Adama's quarters. “Sir, I talked to Racetrack,” he started almost immediately.
“What did she say?” the older officer asked as he directed Gaeta to the table.
“She remembered an explosion and a hard thrust to port, sir. The one other thing she said was that she couldn't control the speed.”
“That falls in line with why the raptor fell,” Adama mused.
“Yes, sir.”
“Anything else, Major?”
“I was stopped by a government official investigating the crash.”
“Harriet Spencer? Yes, we've already heard from her. I think she didn't realize that there are only a few of us that can communicate with them.”
“Sir, I told her that. . .I think. . .” he closed his eyes. “I'm sorry. I'm just really tired.”
Adama looked him over before making his decision. “Major, you're off duty until your shift starts tomorrow. Get some rest.”
“Yes, sir.” Gaeta nodded absently. A moment later he rose and automatically braced himself and then moved towards the door.
“And Felix?” Adama started. Gaeta turned around, “Yes, sir?”
“Lieutenant Glennan woke up ten minutes ago.”
~~~~~~~
The first truly formal meeting of the two sides was scheduled for several days in a remote part of Pictavia. The closed in pavilion had an elegance to it that was surprising to everyone whom had never seen it. The high planetary officials had been using the facilities for years. There was a permanent “no fly” zone in place up to 200 kilometers in any direction leading up to it so there would be complete privacy for any talks staged at the location. The facilities had more than a pavilion, there were tastefully decorated living quarters for every leader that stayed there, as well. It was mainly used for economic talks with the neighboring colonies, and this time it was no different. The one difference was that the visiting government was settling their people in a very remote area of the planet.
Both President Roslin and Admiral Adama were surprised at the way the room was prepared. In the center of the room was the traditional long oval table with name markers for each individual. Behind the chairs and along the wall, where the Colonials were to sit, were the flags of each of the 12 Colonies, with the central government's flag in the center. On the other side were far fewer flags, but they just as colorful. Adama looked around the room for a moment as if making sure everything was as he had been told beforehand. They were walking into an unknown situation, and he wanted to make sure Laura would be safe.
“Ma'am,” Billy said from behind them. “Everything's been set up.”
“Thank you,” Laura answered while still looking at the room's setup.
“Welcome Admiral Adama; Madam President.”
The two Colonials turned to see who had addressed them. They had seen so many faces over the last few hours that it was hopeless to even begin remembering everyone. “You can speak our language?” Laura asked surprised.
“Yes, Ma'am. There are some of us that still learn the old languages,” she answered with a smile. “I'm Courtney Bennett and I will be the official translator for the talks.”
“Good,” Adama said with what sounded like relief. Both translators that they had been using were not available at the current time.
Courtney nodded in understanding. “The Prime Minister will be arriving shortly. If you so choose you may wait here.”
“Thank you, Ms. Bennett,” Laura said gracefully.
Courtney left them alone in the conference room for several minutes. When the door opened again it revealed several people they didn't recognize. The one they did know was the Terran Admiral and the translator that they had just met.
Courtney pushed her way through the group until she was beside the Prime Minister. “Admiral, Madam President? I would like to present to you Prime Minister Alistar Hamilton, and Admiral Harold Jackson. I believe you already know Admiral Orbach?”
“Yes, and thank you,” Laura answered for her and Adama as the translator turned towards Hamilton.
‘Prime Minister? This is Admiral Adama and President Roslin of the Twelve Colonies of Kobol.'
‘Welcome,' Hamilton said while extending a hand in friendship.
The Colonials had no idea what Hamilton had said, but they understood his tone and gesture. Adama looked at Laura for a moment and said with a low voice, “He seems harmless enough.”
After another minute, Laura finally reached out and took the hand offered in friendship. “I'm not quite sure what you said, Mr. Hamilton, but thank you for your hospitality.”
With the first meeting over with, the two sides found their places at the table. It did help that both sides were using very similar writing systems.
‘Let's get started,' Hamilton stated as he opened the folder before him. ‘As you will notice, we have taken the time to make sure your copies of the proposals are in your language.'
Laura hesitated as Hamilton's comments were translated. It surprised her that Hamilton seemed very open. “He can't be using duplicity,” she muttered to Bill.
“I'm not sure yet. He seems overly confident.” Adama opened the folder before him. It was an exact copy of Laura's.
Alistar looked at the two foreign leaders before beginning, ‘There are several issues that needs to be discussed here. This is just the introductory overview.'
“I understand,” Roslin answered after a moment. “How long will the talks take?”
‘As long or as short as needed. There will be no signing until both sides are comfortable with the revisions.'
“Thank you.”
The initial pleasantries were still be passed around when Parker entered the room. He whispered something to Admiral Orbach, who in turn excused himself from the meeting for the moment. He returned several minutes later with a thoughtful look on his face.
‘Admiral?' Alistar queried.
‘Sir, there has been a third convoy hit. This time they were able to rescue one female in a lifepod, and they're sweeping the area once again to make sure no one was missed. No word yet on the Jane Doe's condition, though they're already doing scans to see if they can do anything for her.'
Hamilton looked to Bennett and gave her a nod. She turned and told Adama and Roslin what had just been said.
“Do you know what she looks like?” Laura asked out of curiosity.
‘Not yet, the rescue ship is still looking for survivors.'
Adama answered thoughtfully, “I see.”
After going through the list of what would be discussed that day, the meeting eventually broke for a lunch break. The Picts were used to the give and take, but the Colonials were having a somewhat harder time. Besides the teachers' strike it had been over forty years since anyone in the refugee's society had been in any type of formal talks.
Newly arrived Harriet Spencer walked through the corridors at a brisk pace. She felt she had seen enough while on the Colonial's destroyer. Turning a corner, she almost ran into Jackson, just the person she was wanting to see, other than the Prime Minister. ‘Admiral Jackson? I was hoping to find you,' she said curtly.
‘What is it that can't wait, Ms. Spencer?' he asked cordially.
‘I just finished taking a tour of the Colonial's destroyer hanger. . .'
‘I think they call it a battlestar,' he interjected.
‘Destroyer, battlestar. . .whatever. My real reason is that I wanted to tell you that they're very lax in their maintenance.'
Jackson's eyes narrowed, ‘Really?'
‘And there's a reason for that,' Mair commented.
‘Captain, this isn't for you to know,' Harriet tried to cut her off.
‘But it is. I've been in contact with the Colonials for over a month. I believe there is a reason why their ships are the way they are. Did you ask them?'
‘What does that have to do with their maintenance program?' Spencer shot back.
‘Everything. That ship is understaffed and the crew is overworked. Not only that, they were on the run. All the maintenance went into the engines and their fighters. That was the only thing that kept them alive. If you don't believe me, then ask them. I will guarantee you they will give you an earful of what they've been through.' Mair took a calming breath before turning her attention to Jackson. ‘Sir, from what I've found, not one person out of their military has had a day off in almost a year.'
‘I see.' Jackson did more than see, he understood. ‘Does Admiral Orbach know about this?'
‘Not yet, sir,' Mair answered. ‘I was on my way when I heard her mention the quality of their maintenance.' She shot Harriet another hard glance then moved off in the direction she was originally heading.
I wouldn't be surprised if she's warming Admiral Orbach's bed. Harriet looked around, ‘Have you seen the Ambassador?'
Mair eventually found Orbach being briefed by Logan. ‘Admiral,' she braced herself before continuing, ‘I'd like a word with you.'
Orbach dismissed Logan then turned back to Mair, ‘Yes, Captain?'
‘In concern for the small Colonial ships, especially the one that crashed? They were grounded almost immediately, and also that they have been going through intensive maintenance. You remember how understaffed they are.'
Jeremiah nodded, ‘Yes, I do remember.'
‘I have a feeling that the PTSC agent in control of the investigation thinks otherwise. I only want to warn you beforehand.'
‘And you have. Thank you,' he nodded then directed her towards the cafeteria facilities. ‘Have you eaten lunch yet?'
‘Not yet, sir. I was going to be here later, but was called to bring Ms. Spencer planetside after she had visited the Galactica .'
Lunch was a fairly informal affair, and soon everyone was gathered once again in the main conference room. The rest of the first day went fairly quickly. The Colonials were shocked with each of the offers that were placed on the table before them.
“Why are you offering all of this?” Laura asked.
Hamilton looked at Roslin for a long time before finally giving her a look as if to say that she should know what he meant.
Roslin's eyes narrowed slightly before she finally nodded. “I see.”
O'Neill found Roslin as they were leaving the conference room. “There is something I would like to talk with you about.”
“Yes?” Laura asked as she gave her a slight smile.
“I wanted to show you this,” Mair handed her a piece of paper.
“What is this about?” Laura looked at it confused.
“Last week Dr. Cottle gave me something . After several hours my symptoms had completely disappeared. My CMO, managed to separate whatever it was out of my blood and this is what she came up with. She will start the gene mapping process, but if you're going to make any money off of this, it needs to be patented immediately so no one can steal it. Madam President, there is money to be made off this, money your people will need soon enough.”
Laura looked down at the sheet again. “I see. Thank you, Captain.” She knew she had a lot to think about before the next meeting.
Chapter Fifty-four
Adama looked around the Terran shuttle. He refused to indulge his curiosity on how the ship worked. Right now, his goal was to see how Racetrack was doing. The planetary hospital was the only place on the planet he had seen besides the compound where the talks were being held. He only hoped that hospitals were the same as they once were on Caprica. Jankowitz seemed to not be having any problems from what he had seen in Life Station. Then again, it could be because he knew their language. Bill glanced over at O'Neill. She seemed lost in thought. He was relieved that she had decided to accompany him. Adama knew next to nothing of the English language. Hamilton is right, we're going to have to learn their language to survive .
Mair suddenly leaned forward to look out one of the windows. “We're almost there, Admiral. Once we're on the ground, we'll have to take ground transportation to get to the hospital. The hospital does have landing facilities, but those are reserved for emergency only.”
Adama nodded, “Thank you.” Once they were on the ground it surprised him at how similar their ground transportation was to what he used to use on Caprica. It had wheels and some kind of engine, but he had no idea what the vehicle used for fuel. At the sight of the clear blue sky, he thought it had to be something that produced little to no emissions.
“What about reporters?” He looked out the vehicle's window and studied the odd looking buildings.
“Don't be surprised if you see them,” Mair answered with what looked like an exasperated look on her face. “They're still talking about the crash.”
“They seemed oddly fixated on that. Do you know the reason why?”
“I think, Admiral, it's because Pictavia prides herself on safety. They haven't had an accident of this magnitude for at least a generation.”
Adama declined to answer her comment. The rest of the trip was silent as he continued to look at the buildings around him. They eventually emerged from the vehicle in the hospital's parking lot. He could see groups of reporters in various areas giving their viewers the newest bit of information that the hospital had just released.
“Don't worry, Admiral. They're not going to chase after us while yelling questions,” O'Neill said as they walked through the front entrance.
“Good,” he answered gruffly while following her to what looked like a front desk.
Mair glanced to him and asked, “What is the pilot's name?”
“Lieutenant Margaret Edmondson.”
Turning back, Mair pulled out her military ID card and said, ‘Hello, I'm Captain Mair O'Neill. You have one of my officers here, a Lieutenant Angela Glennan?'
The receptionist verified Mair's ID, then turned to the computer. ‘Yes. . .she's in ICU. . .third floor.'
‘Thank you. I also need to find out which room Lieutenant Margaret Edmondson is in.'
‘Is she under your command?' the receptionist curtly asked.
It took no amount of willpower to keep her from rolling her eyes at the question. ‘No,' she answered calmly. ‘Lieutenant Edmondson is a member of the Colonial Military. It's her commanding officer who wants to see her.' Mair indicated Adama, who was now standing beside her.
‘He doesn't know English?'
Mair shook her head, ‘No he doesn't.'
The woman gave Adama a hard look before finally answering, ‘You need to escort him to and from Edmondson's room.'
‘Fair enough,' Mair nodded in agreement. ‘What floor is she on?'
‘Fourth floor,' she grumbled as she handed visitor badges to both Mair and Adama. When they were through the doors and into the hospital Adama asked, “What was that all about?”
“Security. She didn't like how she couldn't identify you. I agreed to be your escort while here.”
“I see,” Adama nodded slowly. “What floor is Edmondson on?” he asked while waiting for the elevator.
“Fourth, and you might need this while here,” Mair answered while handing him a pda. “It has the translation program on it.”
Adama fingered the small piece of electronic equipment for a moment before stepping into the elevator. It deposited both of them on the fourth floor. Racetrack's room wasn't that hard to find. Right before she left, Mair commented that she would be back in a bit and left him there while she went down one floor to ICU.
“Racetrack?” Adama asked as he stepped inside the room. The medical equipment was set up around the bed in a vaguely similar way to how it would have been set up in a Caprican City hospital.
“Sir?” she asked. Her eyes were wide with surprise as she struggled to sit up. “How. . .”
“Don't worry about it,” he answered with a slight smile as he sat down. “I came here to see how you were doing.”
“Everything still hurts,” she muttered.
“As soon as you're ready, I'll have you transferred back up to the Galactica . There might not be any privacy, but it's what you're used to.”
“True,” she answered softly.
“Have you been bothered by any of the reporters?”
“There were some here a few days ago, but Dr. Jankowitz ordered them to leave, I think. . .” Racetrack shook her head, “I'm not really sure. I've started recognizing English words, but that's about it. They were talking and he pushed them out of the room before they could do anything.”
A knock on the door interrupted the conversation. Before Adama could get to his feet, the door opened and Mair walked inside. “I'm sorry, Admiral,” she started, “I received a message from Admiral Orbach requesting your presence back at the compound.”
“Did he say why?” Adama glanced over to Racetrack before bringing his gaze back on the Terran captain.
Mair shook her head, “No, he didn't. He only said that it was very important that he meet with you as soon as possible.”
“Lieutenant,” Adama turned his attention back to Edmondson, “I'll be back later to see how you're doing.” He placed a hand on her shoulder then turned and moved back into the corridor. “Were you able to see Lieutenant Glennan?”
“No. I'll come back later.”
The trip back to the compound had a strained feel to it. Both military officers knew that whatever it was, was important. When they were finally back, Adama went in search for Roslin. He had a feeling that she would know more about what was going on, plus he didn't need a translator to be able to talk to her.
“How is Lieutenant Edmondson?” Laura asked.
“She was awake and complaining that everything still hurt,” Adama let a slight smile cross his face before letting it disappear.
Laura gave him a wan smile before handing him a picture. “The Terrans have reported that this was the lone survivor in the last convoy that was struck.”
Frak . “Has she said anything?”
“Not that I know of. The doctors think she has complete amnesia.”
“Admiral?” O'Neill walked up to the two of them. Both Orbach and Hamilton had come with her. “I can tell by your expressions that you know this person?”
Bill glanced over to Laura before mentally backing away. Laura would have to tell them. He was in no position to be able to divulge that type of information.
“Sadly enough, yes. The name we knew her as, is, or was, D'Anna Biars. She was a reporter both on Caprica and in the fleet.”
‘Then how was she supposedly found on a Terran ship?' Jeremiah asked after receiving the translation.
“Because she's a human formed Cylon. They are trying to infiltrate to reach us.”
‘I see. And is there any reason why they dislike you so much?'
Laura almost cringed at the question. “Because we created them to do our ‘dirty work' and they rebelled. Now they're out to completely destroy us. They've already succeeded in obliterating our homeworlds.” She sighed, “I'm sorry to have drug you into our war with the Cylons.”
The Terrans talked among themselves for a short time before turning their attention back to the two Colonial leaders. “Admiral Orbach has requested everything you have on the Cylons.”
“That is the least we can do. Almost all of the early information was destroyed, but there are a few references still available,” Laura tried to sidestep the request.
Hamilton nodded. ‘Anything will be gratefully appreciated.'
“It will take a day to gather the required information,” Adama commented for the first time. He wasn't sure about mentioning the museum. Roslin might not approve of it at first, but that was the only place where information was readily available on the First Cylon War.
Orbach pulled out his phone, pressed a few buttons and spoke into the unit, ‘Erbe. I need you to send a message to the rescue ship. They need to put her in confinement and send her back here.'
“What are we going to do?” Laura asked once they were alone.
“I think we need to show them the museum. They'll wonder why we have so much information in book form when you told them otherwise,” Bill pointed out.
Laura pursed her lips for a moment. “Bill, if they see that, they can easily justify destroying us.”
“Madam President, they could have done that when we first arrived in Pictavian space.”
Laura finally capitulated. “I know, you're right,” she said as she placed her hand on his chest.
“This could work in our favor if we play it right,” Bill commented as he grasped her hand to lead her out of the room. Once they were in the hall he let it go and slowed down so she could move up beside him. When they exited the building, they found Ambassador Garcia gesturing wildly towards the Pict Prime Minister in the courtyard. Garcia's voice was raised in anger, but not to the point of yelling. They stopped to watch the sadly comical sight before them. Eventually Garcia stormed off in another direction, not even aware of the looks he was receiving from everyone within earshot. When it was quiet once again, they began moving across the courtyard. “How will you be able to talk to him?” Laura asked quietly.
“With this,” he said as he pulled out a pda.
“I didn't know you had one,” Laura said in surprise.
“Captain O'Neill gave it to me when we were at the hospital.” They stopped in front of Alistar.
‘Admiral; President,' the Pict acknowledged them.
Laura gave him a slightly confused look before turning her attention back to Adama. “I have no idea what he said,” she said softly.
Bill nodded while jotting down what he wanted to say to the Prime Minister. Still not knowing how to at least pronounce the words, he handed the small computer to Hamilton. “What exactly did you tell him,” she said as Alistar looked at it thoughtfully.
“That there is something very important that we need to tell them,” Adama answered as Alistar gave the pda back to him. We have a museum dedicated to the First Cylon War on the Galactica. I think it would be best if you and your people saw it before making any final judgments on the final decisions concerning our settlement on this planet.
‘Why didn't you tell us about this?' Alistar demanded.
Laura shrugged her shoulders helplessly.
‘And what about Garcia? He was not pleased at all about being left out of the talks. You may be settling here, but we are a part of the Terran political system, and he is the official ambassador.'
President Roslin sighed. “What I'm trying to do is to fix the mistakes I inadvertently made.” She glanced towards Adama before continuing, “I would like to invite the Terran delegation up to the Galactica so you can tour the museum.”
~~~~~~~
The tour of the Galactica had been enlightening, especially for Harriet Spencer. She finally understood how critically understaffed and overworked the Colonials were and how it had taken its toll on the simplest of maintenance procedures. Compared to the vipers, the raptors had to take a backseat for maintenance. The vipers were their only means of defense.
They also saw the memorial that had been created just outside Life Station. Seeing the walls covered with images and notes was enough to stop any questions that might have been raised at the quality they had been seeing.
Last of all was the museum in the starboard flight pod. The Cylon wreckage showed what the battlestar had gone through in protecting the civilians under her wings.
‘I'm sorry I questioned the Colonial's commitment and abilities,' Harriet said softly to Jackson. ‘I only saw what I wanted to see.'
Jackson nodded, ‘Understaffed and overworked. And yet they keep going. I only hope the officers under me would show that type of dedication.'
“Admiral, this is not what I remember seeing,” Mair pointed to the old style model Basestar on display.
“Because it isn't,” Adama answered. “Those disappeared with the original mechanical Cylons after the First Cylon War.”
“Admiral?” Laura called as she moved towards him. She was coming from what originally to have been the gift shop, and was carrying several books.
“Madam President?” he asked as he looked at what she held.
“These are for our visitors.” Laura handed one of the books to Mair.
Mair nodded while flipping through it. “It will have to be translated, but I don't think that will be too much of an issue.”
Laura gave her a wan smile. “It shouldn't. I made sure that the books that would be sold were of good quality, and accurate. I admit, it wasn't very pretty why the Cylons were created in the first place.”
As Mair moved away Bill commented softly, “It won't hurt now to let Glennan have that book.”
“Right.” Laura eventually followed Mair to the group of Terrans that had wandered over to the crashed raider and the hole that had been patched to keep the air they were breathing within the flightpod. She made sure that each visitor received their own copy. Once distributed Mair explained to them what the book was about.
As the group left the starboard flightpod, it was explained that there would be a question-and-answer session to follow, in order to allow the Terrans to learn more details on some of the issues that were plaguing the Colonials. Even though Courtney Bennett had sufficient clearance to be the official translator, the Colonials were uncomfortable with her presence. Mair had agreed to act as the translator.
The room everyone ended up in was the same room both Admiral Adama and President Roslin had first met Captain O'Neill in. The Ward Room was still as severe in its decoration as it had been before the devastating attack.
What surprised the Terrans was that it was Adama that gave them a general overview of the history of the First Cylon War and the issues that led up to it. As they were leaving, Gaeta came down the corridor with a notepad in hand. Adama broke away from the group and moved over to the younger officer. “What is it, XO?”
“Sir, Engineering has reported that maintenance on engine pods 1 and 4 have been completed. They're preparing to bring them back online. Once those are checked out and have passed all safety inspections the cheng will take 2 and 3 offline and repeat the process.”
A month is a long time to be offline . “Thank you, Major. Also, before you go planetside, you can stop by my office and pick up the book Lieutenant Glennan was interested in, to take it to her.”
“Thank you, sir,” Gaeta let a slight smile cross his face before schooling his features.
Adama nodded before rejoining the group and their continued tour of the battlestar. They were waiting for him further down the corridor.
When they neared the CIC, Orbach's unit gave a single beep. He pulled it out and read the message printed on the screen. Fleet doctors say that the possible cylon is recovering from surgery to remove several benign tumors. When she is ready they will have her sent to Pictavia.
Chapter Fifty-five
‘Another freakin' convoy hit,' Captain Harry Johnson of the salvage ship USS Recovery muttered darkly. ‘How many more will is gonna take to get the brass's attention?' He looked at the radar screen. Within the wreckage there were several military vessels of varying sizes. The biggest one was the American cruiser the USS Ticonderoga . So far, they had recovered one survivor. The numbers bothered Johnson. Of all the ships only one person survived. Either the merchant ships were very badly constructed (which he didn't believe) or whoever attacked had done a very thorough job.
Rumors were circulating around that it was another race that had decided Terra shouldn't survive. The Martoks had done that 10 years ago, and all it had done was involved in a war where the Terrans refused to lose. Johnson knew that this new race was in for a nasty surprise.
‘Hey, skipper. Where's our lone survivor?' Commander John Collier asked. He was the Recovery 's XO.
Johnson glanced through the manifest before answering, ‘She's still here. Any reason why you're asking?'
‘Just got a message from Orbach.' The XO handed him a small communiqué. ‘He wants a picture of her sent to him.'
‘Thank you,' Jackson dismissed him while examining the chip. After a few minutes he plugged it into his computer and read the message. ‘Baylor?'
‘Skipper?' The Texan's voice that came across the speakers had a slightly clipped accent.
‘What's the condition of your Jane Doe?'
‘If you're wondering if she'll survive? Yes, she will. If you want to know if she can travel? Not yet. I've come across several tumors. I'm getting ready to do a biopsy to see if they're cancerous or not.'
‘All right, doctor. Before you do anything, get me a picture of her. Orbach wants to know what she looks like.'
‘Can do.'
‘One other thing, let me know how the surgery goes.' Johnson leaned back and sighed. He hated the wait.
‘The surgery won't take too long, it's the tissue examination that will take the longest.' Baylor answered before disconnecting the line. A moment later, his computer beeped. Pushing a few buttons, he saw that he had received an image. He read the message before looking at the picture: This should be what Orbach wanted .
Jackson nodded as he looked at the picture. Instead of going through the normal forms of communication, he set this one as priority. Because of the distance, it was going to take a while to get to its destination. He added a note telling the admiral where and how she had been found, and attached the image to the outgoing message. The communications system, seeing that it was flagged for priority, sent it off immediately.
An hour after the surgery Dr. Baylor was sitting across from him in his at sea cabin. ‘So, how is she doing?' Johnson leaned back in his chair.
‘Like I told you before, there was more than one tumor. I was able to remove them all. The good thing was that they were all benign. I'm not sure what's going on, but she should make a full recovery.' Baylor handed him the pathology report he had printed out.
‘Do I look like a doctor?' Johnson raised an eyebrow. ‘You know I can't understand medicalese.'
‘True,' Baylor gave him a wry smile. ‘I just thought you'd be interested in seeing the report.' The doctor then handed him a data stick, ‘This has the report on it. You can send it off to whoever needs it.'
‘Thank you.' Johnson fingered the piece of electronic equipment for a moment before setting it down. ‘I'll get this encrypted and sent off. You're dismissed,' he said after a couple of moments.
Now alone, he plugged the data stick into his computer and accessed the files. He would give Baylor it back when he was finished downloading the files onto his computer. He found one file and did a cursory glance through it to make sure it was what his CMO had said it was. He knew it would be, but he always checked just in case, because something could happen. Johnson quickly attached it to another message, and this time he set it as high priority with full encryption. ‘I hope this is what you're looking for, Orbach,' he muttered.
Johnson got a response in less than 20 minutes requesting that the Jane Doe be transported to Pictavia. ‘Walden, get me the Tico 's captain.'
‘Yes, sir.'
‘Davidson.'
‘What can I do for you, Captain?'
‘It's what you can do for Orbach. He needs that Jane Doe brought to Pictavia.'
‘I see. . .Any word on who she is?'
‘Sorry, haven't heard a peep from the brass on this one. Sounds big.' He paused a moment before continuing, ‘I'll have her sent over ASAP.'
‘I'll let you know before I leave. Tico out.'
‘Roger. Recovery out.' Johnson got up and went to sickbay. He had been in his office most of the time, so he couldn't see what was going on. The Jane Doe was just beginning to wake up. ‘Baylor, is she about ready for transport?' he asked as he stepped inside.
Baylor looked up from his examination, ‘Maybe a day at the most. Her physiology is remarkably resilient.'
‘And the tumors?'
The CMO shook his head, ‘Not sure about those yet. I've never seen anything like it before.' He moved over to one of his microscopes, ‘I'm going to send a sample to Pictavia for them to study. Maybe they can make some sense out of it.'
Johnson eventually wandered out of sickbay and headed back towards the command center. Recovery efforts were moving along nicely. They wouldn't be able to retrieve everything, but they were going to get as much personal data out of the ships as possible for the families. Most of them had cargo. They would have to notify the destinations about the unexpected delay in supplies. Pictavia was almost on the other side of Terran controlled space. The Picts would not have any supply ships this far out. The cargo vessels were from another colony world that had grown past the colony stage.
‘Walden, how far along are we?' he asked the lanky, dark-skinned officer.
‘About a third, sir. It was a much larger convoy than the others. If you look,' he pointed to an area that had more concentrated field of debris than anywhere else, ‘whoever they were, were able to take out the convoy's only source of defense.'
‘Has Admiralty notified us the name of the ship?'
‘Not yet, sir. I expect that information to be received at any time.'
‘Good. Let me know when you find out anything.'
It wasn't until the next day that their Jane Doe was ready for transport. She was heavily sedated for her trip to the Tico . None of the medical personnel wanted to take any chances.
The cruiser USS Ticonderoga was good for their defenses, but not their only source. All the ships in the salvage fleet could easily defend themselves. It was nice, though, to have her with them. Since they still didn't know what they were dealing with, Baylor had made sure to destroy all of the tumors. The only thing left was the sample that was being sent with the Jane Doe to Admiral Orbach.
‘There she goes,' Johnson muttered as the Tico disappeared into hyperspace. It was easier, but not at the same time when the big ships were around. Having a military ship the size of the Tico in sight was like having an elephant in the corner. He didn't complain. If he did most of time it would only fall on deaf ears.
‘Okay children, lets get back to work,' he ordered the crew that was gawking at the sight of the cruiser slipping into hyperspace. He understood their feelings, he felt the same way. Seeing the show was over, they quickly got back to their jobs of salvaging what they could.
‘Shit! RADAR contact! Bogies coming in!' Shelton yelled from his station.
‘Identify.'
‘Unable to. The computer doesn't recognize the ships.'
‘Ships? How many are out there?!'
‘Uh. . .looks like four big ships. Shit. . .they're launching fighters. . .too many to count. . .'
‘General Quarters,' Johnson ordered over the fleetwide channel. He didn't have to wait very long for the weapons grid to come online.
‘They're launching missiles,'
‘How many?' Johnson leaned over Shelton's shoulder to look at the screen.
‘Enough to take everyone out.'
‘Damn.' Johnson backed up a step. ‘Have everyone duck into the debris field. That might give us some time.'
Davis, captain of one of the smaller salvage ships, yelled in panic, ‘They're aiming at e - -' The line went dead.
‘Davis!' Johnson looked at the RADAR screen where the smaller ship had been.
‘There're too many missiles!'
The Recovery lurched at the force of a close hit. ‘Their fighters are swarming around us,' Shelton's voice wavered.
They lurched again. ‘We've gotta get out of here.'
The ship gave a violent shake. ‘Sir!' Shelton managed to hold onto his station, ‘We've lost RADAR.'
‘Walton, get us out of here!' Johnson ordered. ‘I don't care if it's blind.'
‘Yes, sir.'
With one last shake, the ship disappeared into hyperspace. Johnson waited for five minutes before giving the order to exit into normal space once again. Having a blind ship was not a good thing, especially when he didn't know where they jumped too. Once real space formed around them he ordered his crew to start working on repairs to the ship, and to find out where they were at.
They were lucky in that they came out of hyperspace close to one of their navigation buoys. ‘Where are we?'
‘We were lucky, skipper. Our jump took us in the general direction of Terra.'
‘Get us to the closest port, I don't care which one it is.'
‘Yes, sir.'
Seven days later, the USS Recovery , limped into port. In that time period, they quickly found out that it was too dangerous to use the hyperdrive. The ship was in very bad condition. She was still running only because of her being overbuilt for salvage operations. Once in port, Johnson headed to the communications section to make his report. The Recovery might be salvageable, but he wasn't counting on it. He didn't see what the attacking ships looked like, but he had several of his crew that had.
He sent his report off to Orbach along with what the ships looked like. A short time later he received an answer. They were to stay there until they were given new orders.
~~~~~~~
‘Damn,' Jeremiah muttered as he read over the report from Captain Johnson. This was not what he had been hoping for. The Jane Doe was still in transit, and it would take at least another week before she arrived. Between the time they had been told about the survivor and now, the small salvage fleet had been brutally attacked. Only one ship had survived. Those vessels were not made for combat.
He had Mair come in to make sure the attacking vessels were given a positive ID. He knew she could recognize Cylons carriers, having been in a skirmish with them already.
‘What do you think?' he asked as he stood behind her. It only took a moment before she turned to look up at him, ‘They are Cylons, sir.'
‘That's what I thought.' He backed up a step so she could get up from her chair.
‘Anything you want me to do before. . .' she asked while indicating the images.
Orbach shook his head. ‘No. You're dismissed.'
‘Yes, sir,' she answered. On her way out, her hand grazed his arm. When the door closed, he took the seat Mair had just vacated and switched on the communications unit. There were a few colonies that had highspeed transmissions. Pictavia was one of them. With only a five second lag in response time, it was highly popular with sports enthusiasts. This time, with special encryptions, he contacted Fleet Admiral Pavel Dolohov through the same highspeed communication transmissions. He needed to know of this new development.
‘Admiral Orbach, you better have a good reason for getting me up in the middle of the night,' Pavel's voice was much rougher than usual.
‘I'm sorry about that, sir. I wanted to talk to you directly about what looks like a growing incident.'
‘Go ahead.'
‘Sir, the ones that have been attacking our shipping, they've struck again. This time they attacked the salvage ships. Of four ships, only one survived.'
‘And?'
‘I'm having images of the attacking ships sent over the datastream. The Colonials are giving us all the information that they have on this race.'
‘Yes, I read that. It is a very interesting read, a very serious read. I will discuss our options with my staff. You will be notified of your orders.'
‘Yes, sir.' Jeremiah nodded. He only hoped that the brass would do something about this before it got any worse. This had been an unprovoked act of war.
Jeremiah received a flash message less than ten minutes later acknowledging that the information had been received and requesting him to wait for his orders. Considering the information that had been sent, he wasn't that surprised at his new orders. The task force would change from civilian-based to military-based. Dolohov had also told him he would have a fleet to deal with the invasion. Those would start arriving within five days. He looked at the list of ships he would have under his command. The sight of one supercarrier was a pleasant surprise. There would be at least two more regular carriers to supplement the Goch . The rest of the list was a mixture of everything from destroyers down to frigates.
Now he had to tell Mair and Admiral Adama about the change of plans.
TBC