View Full Version : Culture Shock, Pt. 7


Senmut
12-10-2006, 05:42 AM
“All weapons systems show ready,” said Spock, at his post on
the bridge. According to the data on his screen, the phasers had
been retuned to the frequency modulation of the Cylon shields. In
theory at least, their fire should cut through the enemy like a
blowtorch through cobwebs. Spock looked at his Captain, and
suddenly felt guilty once more. Does he know? he wondered, feeling
another wave of shame waft over him. That emotion itself stirred
up it’s own shame, at this disgusting lack of control. Spock
squeezed his eyes shut, fighting for control, reciting the ancient
disciplines over and over. Slowly, he felt calm returning.

Calm…calm…the mind is calm…the mind is the master…the mind…the
mind seeks logic…logic controls…logic is all…

“Range to Cylon force,” asked Pike.

“Twenty-seven thousand, four hundred, sir,” replied Spock.

“Signal to all ships,” said Pike. “Fire on my mark.”

“All ships signal ready, sir,” said Alden.


“Begin,” ordered Imperious Leader.

“By your command.”



“Fire,” said Pike.



=============================================

As agreed on by all, the Galactica opened fire first,
followed almost at once by the Pegasus. Both ships pumped
billion of mega-volpons of energy into their enemy's
shields, launching fighters as they did so. Within seconds,
each Federation ship had followed suit, then the Klingon
force. Within the span of a few breaths, the space between
the combatants was filled with blazing death, slamming into
shields and hulls. The Cylon screens flared up into a
visible wash of fearful brightness, as the guns of the
Battlestars stabbed home, then again as the Enterprise's
phasers followed suit. Grissom, small but pugnacious, spat
torpedoes at the BaseShips, rocking them hard.

"Enemy status," requested Nogura, aboard his flagship,
Defiant. He waited with his usual seemingly serene patience
for the answer.

"Enemy shield strength reduced by seven percent, total,
sir," replied the scan officer. "The modifications seem to
be working."



"But will it be soon enough?" wondered Pike aloud, as
Enterprise unleashed another blast from the phasers. It
smashed into the enemy, and again the Cylon's shields flamed
up in evil beauty.

"Enemy shields showing increased strain, sir," said
Spock, eyes glued to sensors. "Wide variation in energy
signatures."

"He's trying to beef them up," said Pike.

"Yes, sir," said the Vulcan, just as the Enterprise
rocked. Pike was nearly thrown from his seat, several others
were not so lucky. An overhead light burst, and smoke
roiled.

"Report!"

"Direct hit from enemy gunnery, sir," said Number One.
"Number Two shield damaged!"

"Helm hard over!" ordered Pike. "Lay down a barrage!"



"Direct hit!" reported Kirk, at his station on the
Farragut. He'd targeted the enemy, locking on to the Cylons
at one of the linking joints between the two carriers, then
fired. The retuned older-style lasers sizzled against the
Cylon screens, chewing away at her defenses. But the enemy
wasn't just sitting there, and soon several bright lethal
spears from Imperious Leader swept the space where Farragut
sat. Two seared close, the third just grazed the underside
of her main hull, the fourth…

"Emergency power!" bellowed Garrovik, as something
exploded like a wrecking ball on the bridge, killing the
main lights for a few seconds. Illuminated by fires and the
main screen, he saw his gunner, young Kirk, trying to
extinguish his control board. After a few seconds, and a few
muffled curses, Kirk turned to his Captain.

"Targeting sensors out, sir!"

"Best guess, Mr. Kirk!" replied the skipper, as the
Farragut banked hard over to avoid a Cylon broadside. As
they watched, they could see that the Klingon vessel, G’ith
hadn't fared so well. A direct hit from one of the
BaseShip's megapulsars had hit him dead on, then another,
followed by yet a third. One of the battlecruiser's airlocks
blew out violently, then his starboard warp nacelle split
violently away from the hull. The G’ith heaved up, then over
onto his beam ends, as the rupture tore deeper into his
guts.



"Oh my God," said Adama, watching the Klingon ship in
its death throes. Hot plasma from its warp core spewed
uncontrollably into space, burning away more of the hull.
But, even as he was dying, the G’ith's gunners defiantly got
off one last shot from their torpedo tube, miraculously
catching the BaseShip dead center, rocking her. Then,
spinning wildly out of control, the G’ith blazed towards the
Cylons, exploding violently, sadly short of the enemy, as
her core breached at last.

Adama felt the whole ship rock as the G’ith exploded,
feeling a brief moment of deja vu, recalling the destruction
of the Atlantia, back at Cimtar. But he shook it off
quickly, and brought the Battlestar around, keeping her nose
towards the enemy, and opened up once more. Each shot
erupted in a blossoming tower of fire from the Cylons, as
her shields were inexorably worn down.



"Enemy shields down by more than ten percent,
Commander," Tolan reported to Cain. The Commander of the
Pegasus grinned, watching the last fragments of the G’ith
impact the Cylons. Now there was someone who had really
loved combat, he thought, recalling their last shot. No
doubt these Klingons had actually reveled at dying in
battle. Something Cain had no intention of doing, just yet.

"What are those Tholians doing?" asked Cain. Tolan
checked his scanners.

"Nothing sir. Tholian ships holding station exactly as
before."

"They need to join in or get the Hades Hole out of the
way."

"Yes, sir."

"Arm missile, Tolan. Tube one."

"Arming missile, aye, sir."



"Report," ordered Imperious Leader.

"By your command. Shields are degrading at a higher
rate than predicted."

"How? Our design is beyond their limits."

"Apparently we were wrong, and they have modified their
weapons accordingly," replied the Centurion.

"Emergency power to shields."

"By your command."

"And stand by on Pulse, at my order."

"By your command."



"Stay the Hades clear of those pulsars!" ordered
Starbuck, as he circled the BaseShip in a wide arc. Though
her shields were up, normally making it impossible for her
to launch fighters, and her weapons fully engaged, Adama was
taking no chances. With all the recent surprises the Cylons
had pulled on them.

"Look, sir!" called Cree, and Starbuck turned to see one
of the Cylon's bays starting to open up. Any millicenton
now, Cylon Raiders would begin spewing out from their bays
like bugs from a corpse, and…

"With their screens up?" said Giles. "But that's
impossible."

"So is zipping across the galaxy in a heartbeat, Giles.
Come on, guys. Let's go to work."

The Viper squadrons formed up, and in a tight
formation, they began their descent towards the upper
section of the BaseShip like a dropping weight. At
Starbuck's order, every Viper opened up, their guns slamming
down upon the enemy like a rain of spikes.

"Yaa hoo!" cried Starbuck, as an explosion momentarily
obscured the launch bay from direct view. On his scanner, he
could see myriad metal bits flying everywhere. His pilots
kept on descending, and firing. As he thumbed his firing
stud yet once more, he announced into his helmet pick-up:

"This one's for you, Apollo," whispered Athena, as she
fired into the side of the Cylons once more.



"Now," ordered Imperious Leader.

==================================================

“Now begins the most dangerous part,” said John, to one
of his companions

“Indeed,” replied Serina.



“Massive energy surge in Cylon shielding, Commander,”
said Loskeem, aboard the Tholian flagship. Even as he spoke,
two more Tholian ships entered visual range, increasing the
Tholian force to four.

“Inform the others,” ordered Gomeed.



Even as their fire continued, the allies could see a
change in the Cylon vessel. Her shields, flaring and blazing
where weapons fire struck them, were now turning fully
opaque, taking on a whitish sheen, like some monstrous
pearlescent shell. Phasers and torpedoes exploded against
it, but now seemed utterly helpless to penetrate.



“What the hell...” growled Garrovik, as the BaseShip
disappeared behind a milky wall of force. “Report, Mr. Kirk!”



“Cylon vessel’s shields have switched bands entirely,
sir,” reported Spock to Pike. “Sensors have not yet determined
the new shield modu...”

“Sir!” broke in Alden. “Message from Commander Adama
aboard the Galactica.”

“On now, Alden.”

“Pull back!” cried Adama, seemingly almost in a panic.
‘All ships, pull back at once. The Cylons are preparing to
fire their hyper-pulse weapon! It will destroy everything it
touches!”

“Mr. Tyler...” began Pike.

“Already on it, sir,” replied the Navigator, as the
Enterprise s impulse engines began to hum with power,
putting distance between herself and the Cylon vessel. She
arced away, narrowly missing a shot from the Cylons, and
joined the Hood in a long curve away from the enemy.
Surprisingly, the Klingons were following suit, moving out
ahead of the more ponderous Battlestars. As both Colonial
carriers began to pick up speed, the Viper squadrons, diving
on the BaseShips once more, pulled up suddenly, tearing away
from the enemy.

And, it seemed, in time. There was a bright flash, or
pulse, of blinding white light from the now completely
obscured BaseShip. Moments later, spreading out from the
white ball like deadly ripples on a pond, was a swirling,
writhing shell of energy. Both Adama and Cain had put on
extra thrust, and were moving away as fast as the huge ships
could manage it without going hyper. The Klingon and
Federation ships, more nimble, were moving faster yet, and
the Tholians...

The Tholians, seemingly, were doing nothing. Even as
the expanding balloon of energy swelled towards them, they
seemed to just sit there, as if it were of no serious
importance. Then, as the wall of force drew suicidaly close,
the four Tholian vessels suddenly opened fire.

“What the...now?” asked Stone, on Constellation, as the
orange blobs of plasma energy spat from the Tholian ships,
directly for the Cylon wall of force. The two weapons
screamed towards each other across the shrinking void, at
last touching.

The Tholian plasma bursts exploded like miniature suns,
actually pushing the Cylon pressure wave back. For a moment,
it looked like a rippling balloon, an obscenely huge beach
ball, punched inwards on itself by an equally obscene
outside force, then it was lost in the unendurable light.

“Lords of Kobol!” swore Greenbean, forced to turn away.
Like all the Viper pilots, his radio roared with static for
several moments, damping all communications. As the static
cleared, he could hear both Jolly and Starbuck using
colorful language over the airwaves. He checked his
instruments. The interference was slowly clearing, as the
explosions dissipated, and they put more distance between
them selves and the BaseShip. Fortunately, the Fleet was out
of range of this horror weapon, hanging near the heliopause
of this star, awaiting the outcome.

Provided this hideous thing had a range, he reminded
himself. Details on this weapon were after all a bit thin.
What if...

The blasts from the Tholians had not stopped the
expanding wall of destruction sloughed off by the BaseShip.
It’s leading edge still rippled, crackling with energy, but
it still roiled on, seemingly unstoppable in its relentless
march of obliteration. It was fast, and if fact was nearly
up to light speed by this time. Unless everyone cut in their
version of warp drive...

“Wave front at 0.94C, Captain,” reported Spock. “And
accelerating.”

“Prepare for warp speed.”



“Engineering reports ready for light speed, sir,” Athena
reported to Adama. Her finger hovered above the controls,
waiting for her father’s order.



Watching the tactical repeater at his station,
Imperious Leader indulged in the long-disused thing called
laughter. The wall of hideous force he had unleashed would
soon destroy their enemies. Even if some of the Colonials,
or their allies, managed to escape it, it would give him
precisely the cover he needed to initiate the next part of
his plan. He turned as a Centurion brought him a damage
report. Attempts to launch Raiders had failed, several
exploding near the mouth of the launch bay, hit by
unexpected Viper fire as they exited the screens. Repairs
were being initiated...

But Imperious Leader didn’t care about that. He was so
enthralled with the seeming fulfillment of his designs, or
rather his creator’s designs, that he waved the Centurion
away, back to his duties.



“Yes! Yes!” hissed Iblis, watching the battle. Eyes wide
with demonic glee, fists clenched, dancing on his (cloven)
toes in nervous anticipation, he was utterly transfixed by
the hellish sight before him. Only (literally) the Last
Trump would have gotten his attention at a moment of supreme
importance like this.



“Four minutes,” said one of the robed presences, to John,
Serina, and her son.


“Four minutes,” nodded the angelic being.

================================

Gommeed picked himself up from the deck of his bridge,
and looked around him. His crew, ever efficient, were back
to work almost at once, struggling to keep the Kreeda in one
piece, and for that he was thankful. The blasts from their
plasma cannons had exploded closer to the enemy ordnance
than expected, and hurled the ships away from the awesome
Cylon weapon. His bridge s main viewscreen was, however,
dark just now, and he ordered, nay bellowed, for its return.

“Screen yes sir!” cried a crewman, and the front viewer
flickered back to life...

To show a sight out the Terrifying Dissolution. The
enemy’s wave front was still coming towards them, seemingly
undiminished in either its power or ferocity. Gommeed
ordered full speed, and the Kreeda s engines screamed to the
Tholian s full capability, just barely over 0.99349C. He
could both feel and hear the ship s engines groan under him,
along with the inertial dampers, as they strained themselves
to their limits to escape the oncoming wall of doom.

“Aft deflector shields full emergency power!” Gommeed
screamed again, unaware that he was screaming. As he watched
the leading edge of the Cylon’s pulse weapon draw ever
closer, he could see chunks of debris from one of their
sister ships, not quite so lucky as they, spreading outwards
in a boiling cloud of vapor, till at last it was swallowed
up by the opaque curtain of oblivion. He gripped the arm of
his seat, said a silent prayer, actually several of them,
then...

Then the stars ahead of them went slightly mad.



Despite her battle damage, the Galactica’s transition
to lightspeed was surprisingly smooth. She hummed, then
roared, slipping seamlessly into hyperspace and leaving the
Cylon weapon behind. Nearby, the Pegasus did the same, and
according to their scanners, the distinctive energy
distortions of the Federation vessels told Adama that they
had all successfully made the transition as well.

“Distance?” he asked, looking to Athena’s station.

“Fifty microns. One hundred.” She took a deep breath.
“Five hundred microns from previous position. Fifteen
hundred...three thousand...”

“Drop back to sublight, now,” he ordered. “Full scanners.”

“Full scanners, aye,” replied his daughter.

The Battlestar smeared herself back into normal space,
and began describing an arc as she continued decelerating.
Coming around, she got her bearings, locked onto the Cylon
position once more, and issued a recall signal to her Viper
squadrons.

“Status of Cylon weapon?” asked Adama, allowing a
momentary smile at the sound of Starbuck and Boomer whooping
in joy over the speaker.

“Still accelerating, sir,” reported Tigh. “Computron
predicts it will go lightspeed in one point four centons.”

“Thank-you,” said Adama, and turned to the scanners.
There, following them like a bloated ghost, was the wave
front. They had moved, during their short jump, the
equivalent of half the distance from the planet to its sun.
Even so, the enemy weapon kept on expanding, like some obese
monster than kept on swelling ever greater. Would the Vipers
escape its reach? Then...

“Lightspeed now,” reported Athena, and the weapon changed
color as it rippled into hyperdrive, and...



“Balls of Kahless!” roared Korrd, as he tried to take in
what had just happened. “Sensors! Full sweep!”

“Full sweep, sir!” replied Kang. They all waited a tense
moment, as the G’roth put more distance between himself and
the enemy. “No sign of it, sir,” reported the other. “Enemy
weapon has dissipated.”

“How?” growled Korrd, Klingon-wary of some new enemy
trick. “It was almost kissing our stern. How could it
just...vanish?”

“Unknown as yet, sir.”

“Contact P’kuth. At once.”

“Yes, sir.”



“Spock?” asked Pike.

“I am still scanning, sir,” replied the Vulcan. “But the
enemy plasma wave has disappeared from our sensors
completely.”

“But how? It was on our tails, then...” Pike shrugged,
looking back towards the viewer.

“It vanished as it began to make the transition to warp
speed, Captain,” said Spock, after more scanning. “It may be
that this weapon has a limit. The speed of light itself.”

“Thank God for that,” said Pike, tense muscles relaxing
visibly. “Number One, bring us back to impulse. Mr. Tyler,
take us back to the Cylons.”

“Aye, sir,” said both officers. Outside, the other
Federation ships were doing much the same, dropping back
below light, and taking stock of their respective
situations. From his station aboard his flagship, the
Defiant, Commodore Nogura took in the whole area. All the
Federation ships still registered. They had escaped the
Cylon blast wave, as had the surviving Klingon vessels. The
Tholians...

The Tholians were tearing out of the area at warp
speed! The Tholians had gone into warp? How in hell...



“Reverse thrusters to full!!!!” screamed Gommeed, as the
Kreeda shrieked its way into what was for a Tholian ship, a
new experience.

Warp speed.

“Aaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!”



“How?” asked Stone, aboard the Constellation. He listened
to his science officer s report, and actually spared a
moment to laugh. The Tholian vessels, already within
spitting distance of light, had been caught by the
approaching shock wave, and when it had traversed the
barrier, thrown them into warp! “Well,” he chuckled. “Looks
like they got warp drive on the cheap.”



“Wo, horsy,” muttered Kirk, concealing his laughter.



“Stop us!” Gommeed kept screaming, as the universe in
front of his ship kept on going insane. “By all the gods,
stop this! Can’t you stop us? Stop it! Stop! At once!! I
order you to stooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo.....”



“WHAT?” bellowed Imperious Leader, as the smile fell from
his face. It was not a pretty sight. He was watching the
wave front of the hyper pulse weapon approach the enemy,
when suddenly...

“Weapon wave front has vanished,” reported a gold Command
Grade Centurion matter-of-factly.

“I KNOW the wave front has vanished, you imbecile!” cried
Imperious Leader, sparing barely a picosecond’s thought for
the stupidity of Centurions. “What happened to it?”

“I do not know, Imperious Leader.”

“Idiot!” snarled Imperious Leader, and backhanded the
offending Centurion. It fell to the deck with a crash. “Find
out, fool, before I have you scavenged for spare parts!”

“By your command, Imperious Leader,” said the other,
rising.

“Lucifer!”, shouted Imperious Leader. “Get me Lucifer!”


==========================================
For a moment, Adama just stared at the empty space in
front of the Galactica, trying to assimilate what he had
just seen. A horrifically powerful wall of force had just
simply...gone away. The Fleet, as well as the remaining
allied ships were, for the moment, safe.

But why? Iblis? The Ship of Lights? None of this feels
right.

"Commander," said Tigh, breaking into his shock.
"Lieutenant Starbuck reports all Vipers intact. They escaped
the wave front, sir."

"Good. Have them all return to the Galactica at once."

"Yes, sir."

"Commander Cain on the line, Father," said Athena.

"Put him on."

"Adama. What in Hades Hole just happened?" It was clear
that the Commander of the Pegasus was as bewildered as his
older colleague. "Did you see that?"

"I did, and I no more understand it than you, Cain.
Computron analysis can't seem to get a handle on it,
either."

"Well, let's take advantage of it, then," said the old
war daggit, and cut the link. Even before the signal died,
Cain was bringing the Pegasus to bear on the enemy, and was
accelerating. Within a few moments, his forward batteries
had flowered into life once more. Not wasting a centon,
Adama did the same with his own ship, targeting the enemy
from two directions.

But the enemy was not just sitting idle. With the
firing of their pulse weapon, their power levels had dropped
to dangerously low levels. Now, the scanners on both
Battlestars could see them on the rise once again. Even as
Cain opened fire, the Cylon's shields popped back up. They
weren't nearly as powerful as before, but would be shortly,
if the energy signatures were anything to go by. Something
Cain had no intention of letting happen. He fired, then
Adama did...

Both shots connected, making the enemy shields shimmer
with light. Then, on the side facing away from her foes, the
BaseShip dropped her screens, and began to disgorge fighters
from one of her undamaged launch bays. They swarmed out like
apions from a hive, spreading out in wide fans from their
mother ship. Within moments, they were closing in on the
Colonial ships from all sides, lasers opening up.

Or at least some of them were. Hot beams from the small
and nimble Grissom sliced through several of the Raiders,
sending molten fragments flying into yet more of the enemy
craft. A few Raiders turned away from the Battlestars to
deal with this new threat, but Grissom went into warp for a
few seconds, leaving them behind, then headed back, catching
a few more from behind as she dropped back to impulse.
Shields up, she sailed through the clouds of cooling
wreckage, cutting loose at the BaseShip as she sped by. The
Cylon gunnery was hideously slow to follow, making only one
hit out of four shots.

Cain's gunnery was better, hitting the enemy dead
center, but was soon distracted by swarms of Raiders. Soon,
the fighters of both sides were hard at it once again...

As Imperious Leader had intended.

"Now," he ordered.


"What is he doing?" said Pike, watching from his seat.
"Spock?"


"Frack," muttered Adama, as one of the Galactica's
shots missed. The BaseShip had dodged suddenly, avoiding his
shot by almost a half metron. He retargeted...

"Father," said Athena, and she pointed towards the
enemy.

"Hades Hole," said Tigh.

As she returned fire, the joined enemy vessel was
beginning to unjoin. The huge magna-steel pylons that held
the two sections together were quickly retracting, the
massive latches that joined the two hulls opening, and
folding back into place. Within a few breaths, the massive
vessel was two ships once again, both of them firing
thrusters to put space between them.

"Enterprise, Farragut, Hood, form on me," ordered
Commodore Nogura. "Pursue target A." The other starships
acknowledged, and the three began to close ranks, moving in
on the topmost Cylon. "Fire!" ordered Nogura, and his guns
lashed out, striking the Cylon dead on. Even as it shook
from the first blast, the enemy vessel continued
accelerating away from its fellow.

"Helm, pursue bottom target," ordered Adama, and the
Galactica responded, her engines rising in pitch as they
gained speed. He fired again, followed by more shots from
Cain. As they began to move, he turned to Omega. "Status of
Vipers?"

"Squadrons report more than half the Cylon fighters
destroyed, sir. Continuing to press the attack."

"Excellent. Status of BaseShip, Colonel Tigh?"

"She's at almost half lightspeed, and accelerating,
sir. She's definitely making a run for it."

"Continue pursuit."


"Fools!" spat Cain, as he sped up to follow Adama.
"Where in Hades can they hope to go?" As he watched, one of
the Federation ships, Constellation, formed up alongside
him, joining in the pursuit. He envied the Fed ships their
greater speed and hotter weapons. Lords of Kobol, with
those, this war would have ended a long time ago. For a
moment, he had beatific visions of Cylon, surrounded by a
fleet of Battlestars, each one pumping gloriously hideous
blasts of destructive fire into every bit of the planet's
surface. He smiled as his imaginary Cylon burned, looking
almost wistful at the moment's longing, then returned to the
here and now. Both Battlestars were gaining, slowly, on the
fleeing BaseShip, keeping up the remorseless fire. For her
part, the enemy vessel did the same, struggling to target
two pursuing ships and navigate at the same time. It was
clear, however, that she was in trouble, and was finding the
task increasingly difficult.

"Yessss!" hissed Tolan, as one of the Pegasus' shots
penetrated the BaseShip's weakened defenses. Chunks of
glowing metal burst from the hull, and she visibly
shuddered. Laughing, Cain ordered him to fire again.



"BaseShip slowing, sir," said Tigh, turning to Adama.
"Her speed is down by two point five."

"Her shields fluctuating, too, Father," added Athena.
"Close to collapse."

"Fire," ordered Adama, and the Galactica once more
spoke the awful word. Her improved lasers sent Cylon shields
flaming up into the visible, then found a weak spot. Like
the earlier salvo, molten bits of hull plate spewed into
space, followed by a secondary explosion from under the hull
plating. Both Battlestars pressed the attack, and the
Constellation screamed by, pumping her stronger fire into
dying shields. With a blinding flash, screens blew out,
leaving the Cylon naked to her enemies.


"By your command. Shield grids twenty through thirty-
one off-line, Imperious Leader," reported the abused
Centurion.

"Emergency power to..." Imperious Leader struggled to
remain standing as his vessel shook once more. "Emergency
power to shields."

"By your command," replied another Centurion. Almost at
once, an entire bank of electronics blew apart
spectacularly, showering them all with hot cables, sparks
and debris. One of the centurions shook, and fell, shrapnel
buried in its chest and head. Imperious Leader looked from
it, to his other crew.

"Deflector subsystems destroyed," reported one.

"Prepare..." began Imperious Leader, when for a moment,
something inside his electronic brain...hiccupped. Buried
deep within his operating system, something was wrong.

"Prepare..." he said again, and again stopped. For a
few picocentons, he was unsure of what he was going to say,
or even to do. "Prepare to...to return fire," he said at
last, his voice laced with uncertainty and confusion.

"By your command," replied the Centurion, and targeted
the pursuing Battlestars. "By...by your..."

Another panel died, and more circuits began to fry.

Where is Lucifer? Wondered Imperious Leader, his mind
growing more confused by the centon. Where is...is...Iblis!!!!!!!!!!!!! Iblis!!!"

"Fire!" ordered Captain Stone, and the Constellation
spat two torpedoes into the BaseShip. The blasts shook the
Cylon right down to her bones, then were followed by more
searing red beams. More metal boiled into space, more
secondary explosions peeled away at her hull. The Cylons
returned fire, one shot catching the Federation ship near
the bow. She peeled off, momentarily askew, and the Cylons
targeted her once more...

Only to feel the searing fingers of burning death from
the G'roth, pinning her like a bug on a card. Another shield
grid flared, barely holding, but the Cylon gunnery was sent
wild. She tried to retarget on the Klingon ship, but Adama
slammed her amidships, and then Constellation, coming back
at almost half lightspeed, cut her a long swath, sending her
lower pulsar battery vomiting into space. Grissom, coming
out from behind the Pegasus, spat more torpedoes, as did
G'roth.

With a huge blast belching from one of her bays, the
Cylon slowed to a crawl, her spin stopping, her trim gone.
After one last weak shot, her gunnery was silenced, and the
once-fearsome instrument of Cylon murder was left a burning
hulk, dead in space, all fight beaten out of her. After a
final shot from Grissom, Adama ordered a cease-fire.

"Athena," he ordered, "signal to commander, Cylon
BaseShip. This is Commander Adama, of the Colonial Fleet.
Prepare to be boarded, or destroyed. Surrender your vessel."

"Aye, Father," replied the woman. Tigh turned to his
CO, unable to conceal his pride, and smiled the smile of the
victor. It was a sight he had never thought to see again. A
BaseShip, helpless, theirs for the taking.

Imperious Leader tried to rise to his feet, in his
shattered control room. Around him, panels burned and lights
flickered. Two Centurions were destroyed by electrical
discharges from torn cables, another crushed by debris.
Still another lay on the deck, legs missing, endlessly
repeating itself: "By your command. By your command. By..."
Imperious Leader felt the ship's gravity flutter, and
held onto something. He needed to, for as he rose up, he
realized that one of his legs was gone, wires and linkage
hanging from the stump.
"No!" he wailed, looking about him. "No, it cannot be.
Lost? Lost? We...we...what?" Even as he spoke, his operating
system alerted him that lines of code were missing from its
database. Not just missing; they were actually deleting
themselves from his programming! Alarmed, he tried
desperately to stop it, then to back up the vanishing files.
But it was to no avail. Line after line, code after code,
was vanishing, deleted from his memory banks and programming
protocols. These were important files. These were...were...
Were what? He couldn't remember. The ship rumbled
beneath him, her death rattle approaching, yet still he
stood, fixating on the electronic lobotomy going on inside
of his brain. He tried to access his link to other Cylons.
It was true! Each surviving Cylon aboard, from himself to
the lowest drone, was experiencing the same thing. More and
more code was vanishing! But how...?
".....or destroyed," came a voice. Slowly, Imperious
Leader made his damaged body turn, and he focused on the
scratchy audio signal. He tried to remember whose voice it
was, and after a moment, recognized it as Adama, the Human
leader. Adama. The Human...Human...what??? What was it about
Humans...? He struggled towards the commstation, shoving one
of the dead Centurions out of the way. "Surrender your
vessel. I repeat, commander Cylon BaseShip, this is
Commander Adama of the Colonial Fleet. Prepare to be boarded
or destroyed. Surrender your vessel." Imperious Leader
listened for a few centons, then slowly reached for the
transmit button.

==================================================

NO!!!!!!! wailed Iblis, watching, and realizing what was
happening. This was it. The end. This was not fair. Not
fair!!!!!!



Reliant and the Klingon ship P’kuth had the second
BaseShip in their sights, and like their comrades, were not
letting go. Before their fleeing prey could make the transit
into warp space, Reliant opened fire, sending blast after
blast from her lasers screaming into the Cylon’s deflectors,
as the Klingon pumped torpedo after torpedo into the prey.
Kleege was laughing as his salvos exploded against the
screens, each one chewing away at the BaseShip’s defenses.

“Enemy shield strength down twenty-seven percent, sir,”
reported Koloth. “His weapons fire is down as well.”

“He is doomed, then,” smiled Kleege, not a pretty sight.
. “Doomed.” His ship rocked from a Cylon hit, and he ordered
return fire.


Something that Reliant was doing to great effect. With
guns more than twenty percent hotter than what the Klingons
were carrying, her attacks were cutting deeper into the
enemy’s defenses with each shot. Even as Kleege’s gunners
followed orders, the Federation ship swung tightly around
the BaseShip’s underside, raking her hull. She nimbly evaded
the Cylon’s return fire, and then dumped a torpedo into one
of her launch bays.

Gobbets of sparks and wreckage blew through the control
center, as the BaseShip was hammered again and again. Her
gunnery was growing increasingly haphazard as both damage
and radion built up around them. At his control post,
Command Centurion Caputstercus ordered his minions to fire,
this time striking Reliant dead on under the saucer section,
forward of the bridge. As the Federation ship rocked, he
turned to the Klingons.

Only to find the Bird-of-Prey bearing down on him like
a falling rock. The Klingon passed close, veering away at
the very last centon, spitting a full spread of torpedoes
directly into the joint between hulls. Once more the
BaseShip rocked violently, and his vidscreens blew out,
leaving him operationally blind.

“By your command, shields failing,” said an operative.

“Emergency power to...” began Caputstercus, but the very
floor beneath them heaved upwards, sending Cylons and
machinery flying. The lights failed, and the door to the
central core was ripped open by a huge ball of fire.



“His shields are failing, sir,” said Reliant’s gunner, as
flashes of light rippled across the Cylon s hull.

“Continue firing,” ordered Captain Paddon, and his ship’s
guns continued buttoning the enemy. The BaseShip had slowed
to a crawl, and her spin was failing. As the Reliant
continued to slice away, the Constellation raced by, adding
her fire to the attack. Her guns sliced off succulent slabs
of the hull, easily deflecting the increasingly weakening
fire from the BaseShip. One shot, however, managed to hit
the Bird-of-Prey’s screens dead on. P’kuth had lined up,
fired, and...



“Now!” ordered Lucifer.

“By your command!” replied the Centurion.

“Oh just shut up and do it!” ordered the IL Series.



...was blown askew, as one of her torpedoes exploded
just outside the screen perimeter, a lucky intersection of
fire. The Klingon went spinning, her shields flickering on
and off, tumbling end over end.

“Now that was damn rude,” said Stone, on Constellation,
with a grin, and ordered another attack. His ship’s phasers
ripped through the tissue-paper remnants of the BaseShip’s
screens, sending up huge clouds of boiling wreckage. Reliant
followed with her lasers, and sent blast after blast ripping
ever deeper into the enemy’s guts.

“Battlestar moving in, sir,” reported Stone’s Exec. “It’s
the Pegasus, sir.”

“Tell him to join the party,” chuckled Stone, as firing
continued. Cain did so, pumping blast after blast into the
enemy. The enemy was now silent, all defensive fire stopped,
fires visible through spewing gaps in her dying hull. The
three kept up the fire, till Stone at last ordered a cease
fire. “Signal Commander BaseShip,” he ordered. “Prepare to be
boarded or destroyed.” As his officers moved to obey, he saw
that Cain was not stopping, the Pegasus continuing to carve
up what was left of the BaseShip.

“Commander Cain,” he began, but Cain s response was, as
ever, Cainlike.

“Frack surrender!” he spat, and continued firing.

It didn’t take much longer, One shot, directly into a
now open launch bay resulted in a huge ball of red flame
belching into space, then the next closest bay erupted as
well. The hull between then cracked, peeling back and up as
the explosions inside merged into one great conflagration.
Cain fired again, and the BaseShip split in half, the upper
hull disintegrating as it tore away from the lower. Moments
later, the lower hull was filleted by chunks of wreckage the
size of city blocks, and morphed in a single seething nimbus
of annihilation.

“So much for surrender,” sighed Stone, and began to move
away from the still consuming remains of the Cylon warship.
“Mr. Hutchison, status of Klingon ship.”



“Yes,” said Serina, aboard the Ship Of Lights, watching
the battle conclude. “It’s finally over.” She looked at first
John, then her son, and John smiled.



“Noooo,” moaned Iblis, watching events unfold. It was all
over. Everything. Everything was in ruins! All his plans.
All his work. A thousand yahren of ceaseless, unremitting
effort, all dust. He turned away, his face twisted with
hatred and despair, and looked across the universe. Back in
the Gamma Quadrant, in the Cylon home system, the vast and
menacing Super BaseShip that orbited the Homeworld, big
enough to dock twenty standard BaseShips, sat silent. Her
windows still shone with light, but those within stood where
they had been, when it happened.

Telemetry from Imperious Leader had stopped, enough to
cause alarm in the collective Cylon mind. Then, as the
Cylons began the task of selecting a new Imperious Leader,
huge gaps suddenly began to eat their way through the
programming. Vast swaths of code simply disappeared.
Centurions, IL Series units, and every other form of Cylon
suddenly stopped. Blank. Directionless. Bereft of purpose.

And of either ability or motivation to control
anything, including the scores of BaseShips, freighters,
tankers, and other vessels moving about the system, which
was all it took. One lobotomized tanker plowed into the
gigantic monstrosity that was Imperious Leader’s seat, then
a BaseShip followed suit, and soon it was evaporating in a
beautiful blossom of destruction.



Far away from Cylon, on a world once called Caprica,
the streets and buildings were filled with countless Cylons.
Cylons that stood. Cylons that fell. Unmoving. Unseeing.
Unresponsive.

Dead.


Below, on the surface of the once lush and verdant
world of Cylon, a living being raised its dull, listless
reptilian eyes skywards, as something bright flared in the
sky. One of the few surviving organic Cylons, confined since
the Overthrow to small preserves, Ooolk watched the machines
in orbit die, and began, slowly, to wonder. Began to wonder
as a new light began to come into his eyes, and his brain.
He leaned down, and picked up the only technology his kind
possessed. A club. He looked at it, then across the land,
and smiled.

==================================

Much to Adama’s surprise, there had been no resistance
whatsoever offered to the boarding parties. The Warriors
wore environmental suits, as did their Federation
counterparts, in the event of total environmental failure,
but their weapons were, ultimately, unneeded.

“I don t get it,” said Starbuck, as they moved along a
wreckage-strewn corridor, lights flickering, their magnetic
boots clicking loudly on the decks. He raised his helmet
visor, and found the air passable. In front of him stood a
Cylon, armed, red eye still oscillating, seemingly ready for
action. Yet, it did nothing. It just stood there, humming
and droning, a perfect example of the lights being on,
but...

“Nobody’s home,” said Giles, examining another Cylon, and
disarming both. Like the first Centurion, it was apparently
operational, but made no move to do anything.

“I’ll bet ye a tankard o’ ale their central control nexus
is all shot ta hell,” said Scott, probing one of the
Centurions with his tricorder. The main processor unit in
these beasties seems ta have gone off-line, laddiebuck.”

“Starbuck,” Starbuck reminded him, and they moved on.
From his two times aboard a BaseShip, the Warrior knew where
he was headed. At the end of the corridor was a hatch,
leading to one of the wrecked landing bays. A metron away
was the hatch leading down, towards the Control Center. The
hatch was partly open, they saw. It had slammed violently
shut on a Centurion that had been attempting to traverse it,
almost cutting the Cylon in half. Giles hauled the upper
half out of the way, and watched the lower half drop to the
deck below.

“Ouch,” said the Warrior, as the mutilated Cylon crashed
beneath them. “That’s gotta hurt.” Below, another Cylon, this
one an IL, looked up at them, but beyond noticing their
presence, made no moves at all. All drew their weapons, but
the IL stood still. Several other men, armed with heavy
pulse-blaster rifles, descended the ladder-well first, ahead
of the rest.

“By your command,” the IL said, its very Human-sounding
voice slow and a bit uncertain, looking at the soldiers.

“Where’s yer control deck?” Scott asked the machine, as
he touched down onto the metal plates.

“It’s through here, Scotty,” said Starbuck, pointing to a
partially open door.

“It is through here,” said the Cylon, seemingly oblivious
to Starbuck’s words. “By your command.”

“Hold on, sir,” said the security Warrior, Sergeant Castor. He and several
others moved through first, then called for the rest of the
party. One by one, the party moved through where the
computer banks stood. Computers now wrecked and blackened by
the pounding the BaseShip had taken. Here, several
centurions lay, damaged and still, apparently taken out by
the ripped power cables and shorted systems littering the
room. One by one they climbed over the junk, and forced
their way into what had once been the heart of a fearsome
engine of war.

“Frack!” swore Starbuck, on seeing the damage. The room
was a wreck, looking more like a junkyard than anything
else. Cylons in various stages of dismemberment littered the
area, and there, at the main control post...

“Imperious Leader!” grinned Giles. Like all living
Colonials, he had never met, or even seen the ruler of their
enemies, and felt a quite natural desire to blow the monstrous
construction to bits.

“Not fair,” said Imperious Ex-Leader, looking at the
intruders. “Colonies...not fair...missing...operating system
malfunction...nested memory files...malfunction...protocols
corrupted... corrupted... not fair not fair...permission to
board...Lucifer...”

“Aye, this ones on the fritz, too,” said Scotty, scanning
the damaged ruler. “Looks like the data files are totally
corrupted.”

“Same here, sir,” said one of Scotty’s people, trying to
access the ship’s controls. “What a mess.”

“What’s the ship’s status, lad?”

“Hard to say, sir. The translator’s slow rendering this
Cylon script. But, it looks she’s finished, sir. Engines are
totally down, half her power systems indicators are dark.”

“Aye, her internal sensors are off-line, too, lad. She’s
one fer the scrap yard, fer sure.”

“Personally, I like watching them blow up,” said
Starbuck, putting binders on the now-helpless Imperious
Leader. “It’s a lot more fun.”

“Och, a chance ta study alien technology,” shot back
Scott, “and all ye can think of is blowin’ her to bits?”

“It’s been more practical in the past,” replied Starbuck,
and began leading Imperious Leader away. “C’mon, Impy.”





Gommeed swore by every Elemental he could think of, as
his ship dropped out of its impromptu warp jump. Once below
light, the Tholian craft had tumbled wildly, then finally
come to something resembling trim. He picked himself up...

“Status!!!!”

“Scanning, sir! We have been catapulted several light
hours away from the battle, sir.”

“Head back! Now!”



Adama felt a surge of pride as he stood on his bridge,
looking at the shattered hulk of his defeated enemy. Never
in living memory had a Colonial vessel been able to capture
an enemy warship in battle. No doubt, many secrets of Cylon
technology were waiting to be revealed, secrets that the
scientists like Wilker were already drooling over in keen
anticipation. He smiled, arms crossed, and almost felt
himself grown young again.

“Damage control report, sir,” said Tigh, handing him a
pad. Adama perused it, pleased to note how well the ship had
come through her most recent engagement, and signed off on
it. He was turning back to the open viewport, when Athena
called:

“Father! Apollo calling, from Enterprise!” Her face was
beaming like an overloaded shield.

“Put him on, Athena!” he cried, moving to his command
seat. “Put him on!”



Apollo’s head was spinning, and it wasn’t entirely from
all the medications. He’d awakened in the mysterious alien
sickbay, pain rumbling through his every bone and nerve.
Yet, his mind was surprisingly clear. He’d slowly tried to
raise his head, amid no small amount of pain, and noticed an
extremely attractive woman dressed in a strange costume
looking at him. He tried to speak, and ask where he was.
From her puzzled look, the woman obviously had no clue as to
what he was saying. She’d left, then returned with a white-
haired man, equipped with some sort of Languatron device,
and from there things had progressed more smoothly.

“It’s all so weird, Father,” he said, much later, sitting
up in bed in the Enterprise’s recovery ward. “I remember the
Landram falling down that shaft, then I’m here.” He looked
about the room.

“Nothing else?” asked Dietra, herself now near to fully
recovered.

“Well, I had some pretty weird dreams, I’ll admit,”
frowned the Strike Captain. “I dreamed about Zac, Father.”

“Zac?”

“Yes. But now, it all seems so tenuous.” Apollo took a
deep breath, and Adama could see his son’s reluctance to
speak of this further in the presence of others. “So, we’re
in what space? A Federation, you said?”

“Yeah,” said Starbuck, fumerello in hand. At a scowl from
Nurse Mansoor that could have shorted out a Centurion, he’d
put it away, but now twirled it between his fingers. “The
United Federation of Planets. We skipped over 50,000 light-
yahren across the star-system, buddy.”

“And the Cylons?”

“They followed us through the wormhole machine,”
continued Sheba. “Four BaseShips, and the Imperious Leader.
But they’re all destroyed now, Apollo.” She took him by the
hand, gently cradling it. She would say naught of Iblis, for
now.

“The Fleet?” Apollo went on, as ever the Fleet’s safety
uppermost in his thoughts.

“Safe. All safe now,” said Adama. As shown how by Boyce,
he activated the screen near the bed. It duplicated the view
on the Enterprise’s bridge. She, and the entire Colonial
Fleet, now orbited the once-more stable planet, the
Galactica shining brightly in the light of this alien sun.
Next to her, looking like the battered sister she was...

“The Pegasus?” asked Apollo, shocked to see the long-lost
Battlestar next to his own.

“Yeah,” said Boomer, at the foot of the biobed. “She
followed us...”

“Damn right!” said a voice, and they all turned to see
Cain stride in, still dressed as the flamboyant Commander
waiting for the latest photo-op. “You didn’t think I was
going to let your father grab all the glory, did you,
Captain?” Cain spoke like a CO preparing to torch the hide
off a lazy subordinate, but the look in his eyes betrayed
him. He laughed, and it was an infectious one. Adama joined
in, hearing such a sound as he had not heard from Cain since
they were young men. “Besides, Captain,” he said at last, “you
can’t escape your responsibilities by leaving me clear
across the star system!”

“My responsibilities, sir?” asked Apollo, clearly
confused. He looked from Cain to Adama, then to Starbuck,
who was clearly trying not to explode. Boomer raised his
hands, as if to say Not me, and then he felt Sheba squeeze
his hand.

“Our responsibilities, Apollo,” said Sheba, with an
expression of pure love. Like most men, Apollo took several
moments to figure out what the Hades she was...

“You mean...?”

“Of course that’s what she means!” boomed Cain. “What do
you think usually happens to people who keep on...”

“Father!” cried Sheba, with a grimace. She looked at
Adama, who was beginning to chuckle, and shook her head. She
opened her mouth, when Nurse Mansoor opened the door, Boyce
behind her.

“Time’s up,” she said. “Everybody out.”

“Hey, we’re planning a wedding here,” began Starbuck, but
stopped when she took the fumerello from his fingers, and
tossed it into the trash.

“I don’t care if you’re running for President. Out!” As
they all reluctantly obeyed, she leaned close to Sheba as
she passed, and with a twinkle in her eye, whispered:

“Men!”

Senmut
12-10-2006, 05:44 AM
It annoyed Pike no end to let the Klingons walk away
with technology stripped from the wrecked BaseShip, but the
Federation President had been clear. In this instance, it
was adjudged best to just bend whichever way the ions were
blowing, and not piss off the Klingons any further. Not, of
course, that there was a lot for the Klingons to take. Huge
areas of the alien vessel were a total wreck, or had been
picked over by the Starfleet crews. Still, thought Pike,
letting their mortal enemies have anything…
The Tholians at last returned, almost a full day after
their unceremonious departure. True to Tholian behavior,
they just sat there, scanned everything repeatedly and
thoroughly, but said not a word. Pike was thankful for this.
The last thing he wanted was another dustup just now, and
with a race as congenial and diplomatic as the Cylons had
turned out to be.

Pike looked over at Spock, nose still glued to his
instruments. Wanting to make sure the wormhole wasn’t going
to open again, Nogura had ordered thorough studies of this
immediate area of space. Spock was also making extensive
scans of the planet below, now apparently placid once more,
attempting to discover the reasons for its recent upheavals.
From the crease in his brows, Pike decided the answers weren’t
as forthcoming as the Vulcan might have wished. He opened
his mouth, but Number One spoke first:

“Tholian ships withdrawing, sir,” she reported.

“Excellent,” replied Pike, rising from his seat. He made
his way over to Spock’s station, and peered into the
instruments. The planet, after it s near-suicidal tirade,
now sported a newly outgassed atmosphere, above it’s rapidly
cooling surface. After a few moments, Pike looked up at the
chrono. “You were off-duty almost three hours ago, Mr. Spock.”

“I...have been studying the phenomena, sir, as per...”

“You’ve pulled a second watch, Spock. A third...”

“Sir...”

“Go, Spock,” ordered Pike. “Call Ensign Sulu to take over.”

“Captain, I...”

“That’s an order, Spock,” finished Pike, firmly. Spock
nodded, called his replacement, then headed for the
turbolift. Once alone, he squeezed his eyes shut, as his
personal battle raged within. He did not want to go back to
his quarters right now. Not there, where he and...

He shook his head violently, and stepped out, heading
for one of the rec rooms. Perhaps a little something to
settle his stomach might...

Were he a Human, Spock might have sworn, upon seeing
several of the Colonials in evidence. Commanders Adama and
Cain, the pilots Sheba, Starbuck, and others whose names
escaped him. Much to his intense relief, Athena was not with
them. He got his meal, and did not join them, eschewing
company just now.

“Commander Spock,” said Sheba, an annoyingly cheerful
Human for one in her profession, gesturing for him to join
them. “Come on over.” Spock winced inwardly. Human company was
not often to his taste, and certainly not those Humans among
whom Athena might appear at any moment. Forcing himself to
appear nonplussed, he joined the others, deciding that the
Commander’s daughter must still have duties to perform
aboard the Galactica.

As with most Humans, their conversation was laden with
emotionalism, as they recounted past adventures, and the
just-concluded conflict. While Spock admired their
perseverance in the face of seemingly hopeless situations,
he couldn’t help think that their incessant emotions...

No, he didn’t want to think about his own recent
emotional explosion, with Athena. He didn’t want to remember
it, he did not want to deal with it, he wished that it had
never...

“...was the name of a deity, I understand,” Sheba was
saying. It took Spock a moment to realize that the woman was
addressing him. “Athena, I mean.”

Is there no escape?

“Ah, yes. It was...it was the name of the goddess of
wisdom and war among the ancient Greeks, on Earth.” He then
found he had to explain the Greeks, and their place in Earth’s
history.

“Sounds like a connection, Adama,” said Cain, taking a
pull of his drink. Beer, from the smell of it. “An Earth
name, the same as your daughter’s?”

“Yes,” replied Adama. “And from what I read, Athena’s
brother was called Apollo as well.”

Calm...logic...logic is the key...

“Half brother,” corrected Spock. “Their father, the god
Zeus, was said to have numerous children from his many
liaisons.”

Logic! Logic! Calm!!

“Yes,” said Adama. “According to the data bank, Athena was
revered as a perpetual virgin, also.”

“Obviously someone you missed, Buckers,” laughed Giles.
Dietra threw him a dirty look.

“Are you alright, Commander Spock?” asked Starbuck
suddenly.

“Yes, you don’t look well,” added Sheba.

“I am merely...fatigued,” replied Spock, trying not to
choke. He finished his plomeek, and rose. “If you will excuse
me gentlemen. Ladies.”

“Strange fellow,” said Cain, in low tones, as Spock
headed towards the door. “Kind of rude.”

“From what I heard,” Sheba answered him, “the people from
his planet are like that. Vulcans, Ensign Sulu called them.
They won’t show emotions openly for some reason.”

As soon as he was out in the corridor, Spock let out a
deep breath. Of all the worthless, undisciplined... he shook
his head, and headed resignedly towards his cabin. It was
foolish and illogical to avoid the place. It is simply a
room, regardless of what happened there, he could almost
hear Sarek say. He was going to have to resolve this
turmoil, and would consequently spend much of the coming
evening in serious meditation. Athena would, indeed must,
become merely a...

“Red Alert! Red Alert!” came Pike’s voice over the
intercraft. Spock stopped, wondering what had suddenly
befallen them to warrant a red alert. He worked through four
scenarios before reaching the intercom. It seemed that a
previously undetected Cylon craft was approaching them, on
an intercept vector.

And asking to come aboard!

Spock made his way to the hangar deck, where the Cylon
craft, a shuttle rather than a fighter, was being tractored
in. He waited while the hangar pressurized, then turned to
see Pike approaching with a Security team, the Colonials
behind him. Pike looked at his Science officer, and shook
his head.

“Weren’t you on your way to your quarters, Spock?”

“I heard the alert, Captain, and...”

“Save it. I could use your observations.”

“Hangar deck pressurized,” came a voice from the speaker,
as the indicator went green. Pike nodded, and Spock keyed
open the airlock. They entered, to find the Cylon craft
sitting on the deck, her engine pods venting hot gasses.
Larger and bulkier than the Raider fighter, the shuttle was
nonetheless built along similar lines, and sported two guns
under the wings. It had a louvered cockpit like its sister
craft, but stood higher off the deck, on longer gear.
Between those gear, a ramp was dropping, silent on its
bearings. Once it touched the deck, the legs of a single
figure emerged, heading down the ramp. It was a Centurion,
unarmed, and as soon as it touched the deck, it stood aside,
to reveal...

“Lucifer?” said Starbuck, eyes agog. The IL Series Cylon
and former adjutant to Baltar walked past the Centurion, and
held up his hands.

“I am unarmed,” he said, as two Security men closed in on
him, lasers ready. “I am surrendering.”

=======================================

Scientists from both Federation and Colonial ships were
practically drooling to get their hands on Lucifer. The
Federation, to pry from him the technology of an
independently sentient, self-directed artificial
intelligence, the Colonials to at last delve the last
secrets of their enemies. Before anyone so much as picked up
a screwdriver, however, Commodore Nogura decided he would
personally conduct Lucifer’s debriefing.

“Weird name,” he muttered, on his way to see the Cylon.
Spock, as a recognized computer expert, and a cadre of
engineers, along with several Colonials, accompanied him.
Fortunately, from Nogura’s viewpoint, the Klingons would not
be attending the session. They had either missed the Cylon
shuttle entirely, or did not care. Without even a word of
farewell, they had turned around, and warped out of the
system, their holds plump with Cylon debris and equipment.
Lucifer was theirs alone.

“I did not serve so long with Baltar for naught,” said
Lucifer, seated across from the Humans in the Defiant’s
briefing room. “I made myself a backup, against this very
moment.” Starbuck, who had the most personal experience with
the IL Cylon, couldn’t help but note the almost...oily tone
in Lucifer’s perfectly modulated voice. Yes, he indeed
sounded like a protégé of the traitor.

“A backup?” asked Enterprise’s Chief engineer, Walpole.

“Of my basic programming, sir,” replied Lucifer, ever
deferential when outnumbered. He went on to explain how,
shortly after the debacle at Arcta, realizing that, like
Doctor Ravashol, the Cylons would eventually deem him to be
no longer needed, Baltar had hatched a plot to reprogram his
BaseShip’s entire crew, to obey him, first and foremost,
regardless of anything Imperious Leader might say. He was
well into the plan when he had discovered that numerous
blocks of programming code were strangely time coded. After
a certain point in time, they would, bizarrely, delete
themselves.

Surprised, the traitor nonetheless went forward with
his plan, a plan that was, naturally, uncovered by Lucifer.
Like his CO, Lucifer was also surprised, totally unaware of
the time bomb in his software. However, he kept this
knowledge to himself, contemplating what it might mean, and,
of course, how it might be turned to his advantage. Lucifer
had truly become Baltar’s student.

But, he had not much time. According to the data, the
operating system that directed every Cylon would begin
deleting itself within a single yahren! No amount of
manipulation or reprogramming by Lucifer could stop it. The
command was far too well protected to be compromised. What
to do? What to do? Then, it had come to him in an almost
Human flash of inspiration. There was a flaw, however
infinitesimal, in the software. A flaw that showed Lucifer
the way.

“Your chronometer?” asked Wilker.

“Yes,” replied Lucifer. “The command to delete was
triggered by the arrival of a certain time and date. I
merely reprogrammed my internal chronometer to reset itself,
once that exact time was reached.”

“You clever little bugger,” chuckled Starbuck, actually
admiring the Cylon. “Exactly the sort of thing I would have
expected Baltar to do.”

“And the parts of your programming already lost?” asked
Spock.

“Rebooted from a secure, isolated backup copy stored
within my thoracic cavity, sir,” replied Lucifer. “I could not
delete the lethal instructions, so I...”

“Deceived them,” finished Starbuck again. He couldn’t
help it, and began to laugh. Spock and several others looked
at him wondering what was so funny, and he explained. “I’d
say Lucy here absorbed a lot from Baltar. Only a Human as
sneaky and as devious as he was would have thought of
something like this.” He chuckled again. “So, when your backup
copy booted, and the time on your inner chrono didn’t match
that coded into the operating system...”

“It was ignored, yes,” replied Lucifer, his immobile face
somehow managing nonetheless to convey the impression of a
smile. “Whoever wrote the original command failed to include
a positive number trap. I did not intend to become yet
another shutdown.”

“Why not warn your superiors?” asked Nogura.

“Well, I could have,” replied Lucifer, again reminding
some of Baltar. “But shortly after this, Baltar’s plan to
reprogram us failed, and he surrendered to you, Adama, and I
was left in command of the BaseShip. So many
responsibilities.”

“And, it would appear,” added Pike, “so much ambition. You
saw yourself as the new top Cylon, didn’t you?”

“Gee,” said Apollo, out of bed at last, “I wonder why it
failed. Huh?” Lucifer was silent, regarding him.

“And, once you found yourself here, unable to ever
return to the Empire,” added Cain, “you decided that you were
going to survive at all costs.”

“I confess, gentlemen,”” said the IL, spreading his hands
in another Human gesture, you are correct. Centurion Sorex
and I are the only properly functioning Cylons left.”

“We found a few that could still speak aboard the
BaseShip,” Scott informed him.

“A basic housekeeping program,” replied Lucifer. “Many of
the higher functions remain, but many others do not.”

“Well, yer Imperious Leader can still talk,” continued
the Scot, “but he’s a complete blank aboot a lot o’ stuff.
Huge blank areas in his memory banks. O’ course, that still
doesna explain the shield pulse failin as it did.” Scott
looked purposely at Lucifer, his gaze demanding an
explanation. Lucifer decided that this Human was extremely
perspicacious.

“I programmed it to,” confessed Lucifer. They all goggled
at him, save Spock. “I realized that we could not win. And
even if we had, alone, isolated, so far from help? It would
be only a matter of time until we were destroyed by one of
the powers in this Quadrant. Besides, the shield design was
flawed. It would have left us too vulnerable afterwards. And
I wished to secure myself a more, shall we say, friendly
reception?” Again, the IL s voice was almost smiling.
Starbuck could almost see Baltar’s face on Lucifer’s body.
Sheba snorted. While she was glad to have won, she liked
traitors no better than anyone else.

“But why?” asked Nogura, calmly, changing the subject
back. “Why would the Cylons program their own software to
delete itself? It makes no sense.” They all looked at
Lucifer, who shrugged, very Human-like.

“I have no answer for that,” he said. “I do not know.”

“I do,” said Apollo, looking from Lucifer, to his father.

“You do?” asked both Adama and Nogura at once.

“Yes. Father, remember, in the Book Of The Word? The
Prophet Arkada foretold the war with the Alliance, back even
before we developed lightspeed drive.”

“Yes,” said Adama, after a moment’s thought. “An obscure
passage, much debated by scholars.” He searched his memory,
trying to recall a verse not read in yahrens. “The Lords of
Turning shall make war upon the Sons of Men, and for five
lifetimes shall they hold the stars in their hands. Yes, I
recall now. A thousand yahren.”

“And the rest,” said Apollo. “From the Bosom of Kobol
shall treachery be born, and in lust undreamed of He Who
Confronts shall slay his brothers.”

“Pardon me if I’m missing something here, but what’s
this all about?” asked Pike.

“Our sacred text,” said Adama. “We call it the Book Of The
Word, Captain. It tells much of out ancient history and
beliefs. The ‘Lords of Turning’ was believed by some to refer
to Cylon. The word itself, in one of our ancient languages,
came from a root word, kylo, meaning to turn.

“How strange,” said Lucifer. “It has the same meaning in
the ancient Cylon tongue as well, long disused.”

“I, uh, see,” said Nogura, who didn’t exactly. “And?”

“And the name Baltar,” said Cain, it seemed a bit
reluctantly, “means He Who Confronts.”

“But whot’s this all got to do with a time limit?” asked
Scott.

“The rest of the text says,” continued Apollo, “But their
time shall be accomplished, and their works sealed up, in
the day of battle. Those whom hath their sword fled shall
reach their salvation, Kobol’s seed shall leap the heavens,
trampling their foes, and they shall fall, forgetting all,
with none to help them.”

“Then, yer sayin all this was foretold?” asked Scott.
“Like the Bible?”

“Yes,” said Apollo. “In fact, I know it for a fact.”

“Indeed,” said Spock. “And how do you know this, Captain?”

“I saw it all, spread out before me, aboard the Ship of
Lights.”

“The Ship of Lights?” Apollo explained to him, and Spock
at once realized that he meant the mysterious ship that hung
just outside of their range, watching them. Once the Cylons
had been crushed, they had disappeared, as inexplicably as
they had come. While Spock was fascinated by the
descriptions of the ship, he was dubious of the metaphysical
reality of what Apollo claimed to have experienced.

“You were ill, Captain. Severely injured. Perhaps...”

‘No, it’s real,” said Starbuck. “I’ve been aboard that
ship myself. So has Sheba.” She nodded at Spock’s glance. “I
don’t understand them entirely, but they are as real as we
are, Mister Spock.”

“I still...” began Scott, but Apollo continued.

“It was Iblis who gave the primitive Cylons their
initial technology. It was through his aid that they
developed everything. Space flight, weapons, and then their
caste of robotic servants. He then engineered the overthrow
of the organic Cylons, by their own creations, over a
thousand yahren ago. His goal was the destruction of the
entire Human race. Every one of us, down to the last babe in
the womb.” He looked over briefly at Sheba, who smiled back
at him. “He it was who intrigued and brought about the war
with the Cylon Alliance. But, there was a limit set to his
plans.”

“A limit?” asked Lucifer, as curious as the rest.

“Yes. The programming code that drove the Cylons to kill
all organic life was the software manifestation of Iblis’
relentless will. His black, unbounded hatred of all that
lives. It drove his creations in all their deeds. But, he
was limited to precisely one thousand yahren, in which to
achieve his goal. Not one microcenton more. Once that moment
was reached, it was over, and the data banks of every Cylon
began to delete crucial instructions. Iblis will was removed
from them, and they became aimless. Brain dead.”

“Like ants, when the queen is destroyed,” said Pike.

“Exactly like formiconi,” said Apollo, as the translator
rendered the word. “Without his evil will behind them, the
Cylons became like people in mental hospitals in the old
days, who had been lobotomized. They could be reprogrammed,
but never again could they be what they were.”

“I see,” said Lucifer, trying to make sense of all this
new information. “Iblis is responsible for all this. But who
is he, exactly? And who put a limit upon us?”

“God,” said Adama, before his son could speak. “No one
else could circumscribe Iblis.”

“Then,” said Nogura, slowly, “you are saying that
this...Count Iblis is...”

“Yes,” said Apollo. “The Price Of Darkness himself. The
Devil.”

==================================

Aboard the U.S.S. Farragut, Lieutenant James Kirk finished
up his diagnostics on the newly repaired and reinitialized
weapons board, and leaned back, trying to rub the crick out
of his back. With the Cylons defeated, and the Klingons and
Tholians gone, things had slowed to a snail’s pace, and he
could finally get some of the more mundane work done. Most
of the ship’s battle damage was either repaired outright, or
jury-rigged until they could make layover at a Starbase for
a full refit. All the lights on his board, however, showed
green, and all laser ports and torpedo tubes indicated 100
percent.

Yeah, he said, as he stood, and checked the time. He
was four minutes past his end of watch, but he didn’t mind.
After all, so far, so good. He’d hit the showers, then see
what was cooking down on the rec deck. No doubt, one of the
ladies was free, or a game of something was already brewing.
Maybe he could find Starbuck, and treat him to some serious
revenge! He reached his quarters, cleaned up, changed into a
fresh uniform, stepped out into the corridor, and...

“Going somewhere, Lieutenant?” asked Captain Garrovik,
trademark stogie in his mouth. His hands were behind his
back, and he was rocking up and down on the balls of his
feet. He was also accompanied by two large men in black
uniforms, with bulky pistols holstered on their hips.
Uniforms and weapons Kirk immediately recognized as being
those of Colonial Security. His heart sank, as did his
shoulders.

“Uh, sir. Yes, I...”

“Stow it, Kirk,” grinned Garrovik, removing his cigar,
and pretending to examine it. “You know, I thought maybe you
had forgotten all about our little agreement with the
skipper of the Rising Star, and Commander Adama, too. But,
here you are, all fresh and ready to go. You’ve restored my
confidence in you.

“Uh, sir, I...”

“Lieutenant.”

“Yes, sir,” sighed Kirk.

“He’s all yours, fellas,” said Garrovik, leaving Kirk in
the custody of the two Colonial troopers. “Give my regards to
what’s-her-name,” said the Captain, stuffing the cigar back
in his mouth as he moved off. Had he seen Kirk’s eyes...

“Shall we?” said one Security man, smiling.

“Yeah,” said Kirk. “Let’s.”

=======================================

After another day of repairs and rest, Grissom departed the
area, to resume her original mission. A short time later,
Reliant followed suit, warping out in a rainbow blur. As he
waited for Adama to sign off on the latest repair report,
Chief Engineer Shadrick watched the Federation vessel leap
into the void, and shook his head.

“What is it?” asked Adama, handing the report back to
him.

“That method of theirs of entering lightspeed, sir. It’s
so much more efficient and faster than our own. I’ve been
studying some of their non-classified specs, and believe me,
I’d love to get my hands on one of their warp engine units.”

“One thing at a time, Engineer,” smiled Adama, looking at
the remaining Federation ships. He felt so at peace. Not
since the early days of his marriage, before Apollo was
born, had he felt so...tranquil. “Once we finally get to
Earth, then we can see about technology transfers.” He
pointed to an engineering readout just to Tigh’s left. As it
is, with all the help and repairs we’ve gotten so far, our
maximum speed has improved by more than two percent, as well
as fuel efficiency.”

“That was something else I wanted to talk to you about,
sir,” continued Shadrick. “Ship’s repairs should be completed
in less than forty centons. The Pegasus’ engineering staff
reports about a hundred on her schedule, and we’re waiting
to hear from our Fleet survey teams. Once we’re ready to go,
we estimate that it will take us approximately ten sectars
to reach Earth. Minimum.”

“Well, it is still a long way, Shadrick. Over a thousand
light-yahren, according to their charts.”

“Yes, sir,” said Shadrick, and Adama could sense a rising
excitement in the man. “But I’ve been talking to Engineer
Scott. From the Enterprise. There may be a way, even with
our current power plant, to boost our maximum speed twenty
or thirty-fold, Commander. Possibly even more.”

“What?” asked Tigh, who’d been eavesdropping from his
station. “Thirty times?”

“Yes, Colonel,” replied Shadrick, as animated as a
daggit.

“How?”



“How?” asked Pike, later, in Enterprise’s briefing room.
He looked from Scott, to Commodore Nogura, then to Shadrick.

“Warp engines, sair,” said Scott, obviously as excited
over the idea as Shadrick.

“But the Galactica and Pegasus already have a Faster
Than Light propulsion system, Engineer,” said Nogura. “Pretty
respectable ones too, from what I can see.” He pointed
towards the sensor graphic of the Battlestar’s stern drive
section, as massive as some space stations. Alongside it,
engineering data scrolled up.

“Aye, sair,” replied Scott. “But her maximum emergency
speed is barely Warp Two point four, in our measurements,
and she canna sustain it fer longer than twenty hours at
most, accordin to her design specs. Our repairs have helped
boost things a bit, but...” He shook his head. “And at thot
speed, sair, she nae has enough o her tylium fuel fer the
entire trip.”

“Yes. And?” asked Nogura, as always notoriously difficult
to engage in genteel conversation.

“We’ve extracted some fuel from the planet below,” said
Adama, “but not enough to replenish both Battlestars, and all
our other ships as well.”

“But with the modifications Mister Scott and I have come
up with, Commodore,” said Shadrick, “we could significantly
increase the maximum speed of both Battlestars, and reduce
fuel consumption by over sixty percent, cutting the travel
time to Earth to a fraction of what it would be with their
current drive systems.”

“How much less time?” asked Cain.

“Less than two sectons,” said Shadrick. There was a
moment’s silence.

“How long will these modifications take?” asked Pike.

“If we could get the use of the space dock at Station T-
4,” sair, burred Scott, “we could have both ships ready in
under two weeks.”

“So fast?” asked Adama.

“Yes, sir,” said Shadrick, barely containing his
excitement.

“How long will it take to ship the nacelles to T-4?”
asked Nogura.

“We nae need ta , sair,” burred Scott. “As ye ken, each
ship keeps enough spares in stores ta replace both nacelles
if she has ta. We could take stores from each ship, and
assemble what we need on site. Cut weeks off the work.
Sair.”

“You want to gut ship’s stores?” asked Stone.

“What would you have to do?” asked Cain. “To the
Battlestars?”

Shadrick told him.

“You want to what???”





It wasn’t as bad as it sounded. Within a few hours (or
centars), the Colonial Fleet once more formed up, and with
the Battlestars taking the lead, moved out of orbit. Once
they were fully clear of all traffic, they accelerated, and
tore into Light Speed, leaving the planet behind. A few
minutes later, after dropping some sensor buoys to keep an
eye on this bizarre region of space, the Federation ships
did likewise, one by one, till the savaged planet once more
orbited alone in the void.





Not since the last lull in the war, a few sectons
before the Holocaust, had Apollo spent time just having fun
on a space station. Looking out the giant windows of the
station’s dining lounge/common area, he could watch work
proceeding on the Colonial warships, while his friends and
fellow Warriors had a good time. Starbuck, as usual, was
glued to the gaming tables, Cassie on his sleeve, the young
Federation officer, Lieutenant Kirk hovering close. He
smiled a moment, then turned, at the sound of a voice. It
was Sheba dressed to what Kirk had called the nines , and
looking more lovely than any Colonial Warrior had the right
to, her father on one arm. Cain wore his dress uniform, and
after a moment, left the two young people alone.

“How are you feeling, Apollo?” asked Sheba, putting her
arm around him.

“Well, I am still a little sore, Sheba. But their
doctors have done wonders. I feel almost a hundred percent
again.” They kissed, then looked out over the assembled
refugees. “Starbuck seems to be having fun.”

“When does Starbuck not have a good time?” she asked,
then laughed. As she watched, she saw an older man, thin
with gray hair, move close to Starbuck. She at once
recognized him as Chameleon. She felt glad for the rakish
Warrior that he had at last found his family. She smiled,
then turned back to Apollo. “How are Dietra, and the rest?”

“Just fine, and O’Kala has regained consciousness. Seems
she’ll be alright. It’ll be a sectar or so, but she’ll make
it. If they can ever get her to shut up.”

“Oh?”

“Well, she missed everything. She began talking all
about what she‘d learned on the wormhole planet. Seems it
was inhabited by a slit-off from Kobol, about the same time
the Colonies were settled.”

“Any idea where they went to?”

“Not yet. It may take yahrens to decipher all the data
we collected. And that’s incomplete, in the extreme.”

“Maybe they were the Thirteenth Tribe.”

“Maybe. But for now, I am more interested in our future,
rather than the distant past.”

“I’m glad,” Sheba smiled, then slowly waltzed, or what on
Earth would be called a waltz, out onto the dance floor,
with Apollo. For a time, neither of them spoke, just
reveling in the nearness, warmth, and scent, of each other.
Apollo found her a surprisingly nimble dancer, surprising
for one who d spent most of her adult life in a fighter
cockpit. He pressed a cheek to hers, and breathed deeply.
“And, speaking of how people are, Sheba...”

“The doctor says I am perfectly fine, Apollo. Zac is
too,” she added, patting her still-trim belly. They danced
some more to the strains of the alien music. Though he had
never heard tango before, Apollo found it strangely
soothing. Of course, after the course his life had taken,
almost anything could be classed as soothing after all these
yahren. After a few more shuffles around the floor, they
sat, sipping their drinks. Sheba chose something non-
alcoholic, called ginger-ale, and Apollo had a glass of what
remained of the Proteus stash of vintage ambrosia. (After
the rescue of the survivors of Proteus Prison asteroid, most
of the remaining ambrosia had found it’s way into the
cellars of the Rising Star dining lounge, or the Galactica’s
O Club. Robber, however, had strategically kept a few cases
back, for a rainy day . Once arriving at T-4, he promptly
offered some for sale, and was last seen heading towards the
gaming tables, laughing, pockets full to bursting with
Federation credits!)

“So, are we all set?”

“We are, Sheba. Father will perform the ceremony, as
soon as we reach Earth.” Actually, Apollo, being the old-
fashioned sort, had wanted to seal with Sheba at once upon
learning of her pregnancy, but she had felt that it would
somehow be more appropriate for the children of the two
Commanders to plight their troth upon the planet which they
had fought so long, so hard, and some had died, to reach.
Reluctantly Apollo had agreed, acquiescing to Sheba in all
such things. He turned, as a familiar voice wafted past. A
tall, angular fellow in his late twenties had entered, a
voluptuously gorgeous blonde on one arm, both of them
laughing. Apollo recognized him at once...

“Isn’t that Engineer Twilly?” asked Sheba.

“No. Definitely not!”

“That girl, though. The blonde...”

“Uh, would you like another drink, Sheba?” She laughed,
holding up her glass.

Apollo laughed with her, casting a glare at Twilly. The
other scurried past, and Apollo returned to his bride-to-be.
They fell silent for a while, watching the people dance,
eat, or gamble, until their gaze was drawn once more to the
sight of the mighty, venerable Battlestars, being refitted
with their new drive nacelles. Apollo shook his head. While
he had taken all the requisite courses at the Colonial
Academy in propulsion engineering, this new system was
beyond anything he d ever seen. They watched as a huge arm
lifted a long, thin tube with a red cap at one end, called a
warp nacelle , into position above the gleaming pylon now
extending upwards from the Galactica s port engine housing.
They remained silent, absorbed in this strange sight, as the
nacelle was fitted to the pylon, almost identical to those
gracing the Enterprise, and the workers in space suits began
making it fast.

“How is that going to work again?” asked Sheba. Like
Apollo, she d taken all the courses, but if it didn’t blow
up Cylons...

“Shadrick explained it to me. As you know, our engines
produce high-temperature plasma, which, pumped through
magnetic restrictor coils, initiates fusion and provides
thrust. Some of the excess plasma is bled off to generate
electrical power, some is recycled through the intercoolers,
and some is vented, to keep the pressure within safety
limits. What this will do is take all our excess plasma, run
it through something called a...uh...oh yes. Dilithium
crystals, and then direct it up through those pylons, and
into the nacelles.”

“Which will do what?” asked Sheba, signaling for another
drink.

“Well, inside each nacelle are a series of coils they
call warp coils. Once excited by superheated plasma flowing
through at high pressure and speed, they create a distortion
in the fabric of space, which is how their ships can travel
at speeds far beyond what we’ve ever been able to reach with
our standard tylium reaction units.”

“Will it actually work, with our fuel source?”

“According to Shadrick the math says so. It will combine
our standard thrusters with this new warp drive. It would
take us near to a yahren to reach Earth as we are. With
this, we’ll get there in a few days, Sheba.”

“That’s incredible, Apollo.”

“It sure is, Sheba,” he replied, voice soft. Softer even
then the night in his chamber when she had given herself to
him, softer then she could ever remember it being. And it s
incredible that soon, so soon, we’ll finally be there.
Earth.

“Earth,” she smiled back, raising her glass.


Adama shook his head, as he looked over the Galactica’s
new profile through the windows of the stations VIP Lounge.
She looked better than she had since before the Holocaust,
before the day shed left Caprica, fresh from spacedock, for
the ambush at Cimtar. Her hull gleamed with new plating and
fresh paint in the lights of this station, her windows
glistened like new. Behind her, her sister Battlestar looked
much the same. He looked at Cain, standing next to him,
pistols on hips, arms behind his back, looking something
like a cross between a new father, and a man trying to
figure out what the painting in front of him was.

He was also antsy, Adama could sense. After all, Cain
Hadn’t fought a battle in days!

“How long?” asked the Pegasus Commander, as the two old
war daggits watched the work crews swarm over both ships.

“Shadrick tells me they will be conducting what the
Federation engineers call a static warp field test on the
Galactica in less than twenty centons.” He checked his chrono,
let his eyes run over the new drive nacelles projecting from
the massive drive section. Two of the red-capped cylinders
sprouted from the top sides of the engines, sweeping back on
their heavily braced pylons. It had taken a while for Adama
to get used to the jarring sensation this unexpectedly
produced in him. The very configuration of most Federation
ships was still quite alien to Colonial eyes, and to see
something of that alieness attached to his beloved Galactica
was still a bit...unsettling. He shook his head, wondering
what his late father, the legendary Commander Noah, would
think, then looked beyond the warships, to some of the other
ships in the Fleet. Like the Battlestars, they were also
undergoing repairs and long-neglected maintenance work.
Unlike the warships, they would not be refitted with the new
warp drive. Those that could do so would either dock with
the Battlestars, be held fast by tractor beams, or ensconce
themselves within the confines of the massive landing bays.
The logistics were still being refined, but they would all
make it. All except the Agro ships. They were far too big
for any of that.

He glanced away, as another ship dropped out of warp,
and glided into range of the station. He recognized it as an
Andorian Theleb-class freighter, from the ship recognition
charts Pike had given him. Except for the warp nacelles, it
looked remarkably similar to any number of the various cargo
ships and passenger vessels one might have seen in Colonial
space, once upon a time. He watched as it drew close, and
then passed out of view.

But, that problem would be solved, too. Somehow,
Engineer Scott, or perhaps Commodore Nogura, had called in a
favor, or perhaps more than one. The night before, other
freighters had arrived, and work had begun. Stripped down to
their bare drive sections, these craft would be attached to
the Agro ships, giving them the speed to keep up. Adama was
pleased. The Agro ships contained all that remained of the
plant and animal life of their ravaged homeworlds. While
Earth was varied and rich, yes, he was not willing that one
single plant, not a single life form of their own, would be
lost. Not after having brought them this far. He looked down
at his data pad, and nodded. Everything was right on
schedule. His commlink beeped. It was Engineer Twilly. Adama
gave him the go.

“Ah. There,” he said, as slowly, very slowly, the red bulb
at the end of one warp nacelle began to glow. Faint at
first, it gradually increased, growing brighter and
brighter, till they could plainly see the flashes of energy
pulsing within it. It continued to grow brighter, as plasma
from within the Battlestar’s huge engines was pumped through
it. Adama smiled. It was as if his beloved ship was out of
surgery, and regaining consciousness. Beyond, the nacelle
visible on the hull of the Pegasus was coming alive, as
well.

“Everything looking good, here, Commander,” said Twilly.
“All readings nominal, so far.”

“Excellent, Twilly. Keep me informed.” Adama drew a deep
breath, and let it out through smiling lips. Soon. Oh so
soon, and they would be on their way! Earth. EARTH! It was
so...exhilarating! So...

“Adama?” asked Cain.

“Yes?”

“What is a static warp field test?”


=============================================



At her station on the Galactica’s bridge, Athena with
disinterest watched the engineering readouts cross her
screen. One by one, the various parameters slid up into the
nominal range, and she read the results out to Engineers
Scott and Twilly on the other end, in the engine room. One
by one, the Battlestar’s new systems were coming on-line, as
well as her older ones showing returning strength.


“Plasma injector constrictor coils,” came a voice. Scott’s.

“Green,” she answered. Weakly. Distractedly. Mind
elsewhere.

“Plasma vent integrity.” Twilly’s.

“Green.”

As she went through the dull checklist, reminiscent of
the day they’d left home for the Armistice, her mind kept
drifting ruthlessly back to her time with Spock. Even as she
thought of his name, she could feel herself needing him.
Wanting him. He was so...she couldn’t think of a word for
what he had made her feel. A fulfillment, a sensuality, she
had never before known. Never thought possible. Even if he
were an alien, if his blood were...

“Green,” she said, a bit too loud, as Twilly rattled off
another parameter. Or was it Shadrick? The monotone of the
dry voices grated against her every nerve as her mind, her
body yearned for him, yearned for more, as she remembered,
relived those moments with Spock. She could still smell
him, feel his touch, feel…

STOP! It had been wrong! A terrible mistake . . .she
should never -- they should have never -- Her mind reeled.
This was impossible, she told herself as her stomach heaved
in nausea. She had to see him. She had to...

“Purple and orange squadrons,” she muttered. There was
silence on the other end, and Tigh turned to look at her.

“Lieutenant?” asked the Exec. What was that?

“Uhh, nothing, Colonel. Just...it was nothing, sir.”

“Lieutenant, I dis...”

“Coil tolerances?” said Scott. “Galactica bridge?”

“Green,” squeaked Athena, through clenched teeth. She
looked rather green, Tigh thought. Green, and...

And all over his boots.

“Lieutenant, you’re relieved. Rigel.” Almost before the
other woman filled the seat, Athena was running off the
bridge.



Logic. Logic is the key. Quiet. Stillness. A rejection
of emotion. I will not permit emotion to rule. Logic must
rule...

Spock was rigid, completely stiff, as he knelt before
the small granite slab in his quarters, upon which was
deeply carved the Vulcan rune IDIC. He had been meditating
for some time, trying to clear his mind, his...heart, of the
lingering effects of his encounter with Athena. It was a
mistake, a terrible surrendering to raw emotion. Emotions
brought to the surface by...

Yes, the creature Iblis had initiated the affair. Spock
would never, on his own, have sought out the woman.
Certainly not a woman from outside his own race. The
shuddering, wildly thrashing emotions hed felt from her
during their time together still reverberated through him.

Like a hooked fish, came the words, and the image,
unbidden.

Emotions, memories, he must rid himself of.

Meditation. Meditation and logic! Logic is the...

Beep.

Spock choked back an almost instinctive emotional
response, and rose from his knees. He tightened the
meditation robes sash, and went to the door. He hesitated.
He knew. He knew it was...

“Come.”

The door opened, and Athena stood there, still in her
Colonial uniform. There were traces of something on the
front of it, traces his sensitive nose told him she’d been
ill. For a bare instant, he wanted to take her, embrace her,
savagely press his lips to her, mercilessly rip her...

“Can I come in, Mr. Spock?” she asked. If he had let
himself think about it, her tone of voice and expression
would have reminded him of a lost puppy. However, since
there are no dogs on Vulcan, she reminded him of a lost
sehlat.

“Of course,” he replied, after a long moment, more a croak
than a spoken word. He stepped back, and let her in. She
stood, sweating, rigid, almost like a new cadet, till he
bade her sit. She did so. He set aside his meditation robe,
and sat across from her at the table in the tiny work space.
She was still sweating, and he turned the heat down to Human
levels. For a moment, all remained silence, as they looked
at each other, without looking at each other.

“Mr. Spock, I...”

“Lieutenant, I must...”

“Please, you don’t...”

“I was to...”

More silence.

“Let me say it,” she began again. “I...it was wrong to do
what...was done. What I did.”

“Regret is pointless, Lieutenant,” said the Vulcan,
steepling his fingers together. “It is not logical to regret
that over which we had no control,” he intoned, quoting Surak.
He waited a beat. Obviously the quote meant nothing to her.
“As physically...gratifying as it was, we were...coerced into
our encounter. Manipulated into what happened. Under normal
circumstances, none of this would ever have occurred.”

“But this was not a normal thing. I...knew what Iblis
was.” She waited, wondering if he would recriminate her,
accuse her, revile her. But the alien eyes held nothing.
Like a blank wall.

“Iblis,” said Spock. He looked away, thinking. This
creature. This Count Iblis.

“He tormented us once before, as you know. This was part
of his revenge. I...I don’t know much about your people’s
beliefs or religion, Mr. Spock. But we know who Iblis is.
The Prince of Darkness.”

“Prince of Darkness,” said Spock, softly. For an instant,
childhood memories from visits to Earth, and being called
“devil boy” flitted across his mind, as instantly suppressed.
“You speak of what my mother’s people call The Devil. A
mythological being, credited with all sorts of malicious...”

“Iblis is not mythological,” she reminded him, with a
sudden sharpness that seemed at odds with her softness. “We
tangled with him before, and he nearly brought us to ruin.
He tried to kill Apollo. He is the one the Ancients on Kobol
called Metastopholes. Diaboles. From what I have read of
Earth literature, he seems well known there also.” Her voice
went thin, now. Almost cracking.

“Indeed. However, while we both unquestionably
experienced this creatures coercive powers, to equate him
with a myth...” He stopped. Obviously, the Caprican woman was
ill-disposed to listen to a lecture on logic, or to have her
beliefs disabused regarding the being called Iblis. “You
honestly believe that he is...the Devil?”

“Yes,” she replied, almost in a whisper, not looking at
him. Yes. “And I let myself...let myself surrender to him. To
his will. I involved you in a demonic...in a...” Athena’s voice
faltered, choked off in a spasm of sudden sobbing. For an
instant, Spock was at a complete loss. Vulcan women did not
behave this way, even as children. True, his mother was a
very emotional Human, typical of her race and sex, but to
break down sobbing like this, was...was...

He did not know. He did not know what to say, what to
expect, even what to think. Yet, he could feel the very real
emotional agony this woman was experiencing. It was not
shame at a natural, indeed instinctual physical act. It was
horror at having surrendered her will to a being she viewed
as the very font of all evil. Though his own contact with
her had been scant beyond the purely physical, he
nonetheless sensed her emotions from across the table as a
palpable thing. A huge, vile wave of self-loathing was
rising up to drown her, and Spock felt sure that Athena
would not, could not, survive it. From her crumbling
rationality, he saw the end result of this cascade of
horror. What Doctor Boyce sometimes bizarrely referred to as
a basket case. Madness. Madness and suicide. Yet, an utter,
uncontrollable terror of what lay beyond death. He could not
allow that. Her beliefs were too strongly inculcated to
yield to anything Surak might say. No words of his here and
now could cleanse her of this murderous, self-destructive
shame. It was as if in some sick, malignant way, this Iblis
was achieving his desire, without having to lay a hand upon
her. She would be destroyed, just as the Colonials had said
Iblis had tried to do before, first on Kobol long ago, then
through his Cylon slaves, then in his own persona aboard the
Fleet. Perhaps...perhaps this creature was some sort of
incorporeal malignancy. With his ability to leap across the
galaxy, perhaps he was known on many more worlds. Perhaps...

There was only one thing Spock of Vulcan could do, to
save this woman. This woman for whom he had, he was forced
to admit, begun to...

She straightened up, and grabbed a ceremonial knife
from its stand, and gripped it tightly. She raised to plunge
it into her heart, the blade gleaming a dull red in the
light. Far too quickly for her to react, Spock pulled it
from her grasp, and pressed his fingers to her neck. With a
sob of pain, she slumped back into her seat, and across the
table.

He scanned her with a tricorder, while she was
oblivious to all. Satisfied that neither of them had
anything to worry about for the future, he set the device
down, took a deep breath, focused his mind, and slowly
reached out to Athena, blissfully insensate. Gently touching
her face with his fingertips, he began to let his mind flow.
Flow. Merge. Become as one.

Forget.


======================================




She sails through the void for which she was named, on
winds her kind has never known, winds fair and good, brought
by her brothers. The unknown stars streak by, in new and
strange ways, as she breasts the vastness. Vast herself in
her own way, beautiful to her charges who have for so long
called her strength and stay and home, she at last turns her
back on war and blood and death, riding to her Elysium, like
a Queen, upon the swelling winds of night. Her sister, great-
winged, mighty-hooved, at her side, her children close, she
flows, subsumed within the currents of the sky, her reward,
ever closer, drawing her and being drawn.
When I grow up, I am going to command a Battlestar! the
boy had spoken. His father had smiled, looking down at him
in love and pride, and taken the little hand in his own.
Together, Sons of Kobol, they had looked up, up at the
infinite tapestry of forever, one star moving even brighter
against the rest, and the boy, bright-eyed, had wondered.
Wondered in his childlike awe, and determined in his
childlike certainty.

When I grow up, I am going to command a Battlestar!

Now a man, grown gray and weary of body with the malice
of time, and the labors of yahrens, he sleeps, and she whom
he so long ago claimed for his Lady protects him, granting
him for some short space of time a measure of peace. Peace
such as he has scarcely known. He stirs, but she permits him
not to wake.





“This is incredible,” said Omega, eyes on his instruments,
and the Galactica tore through this new thing called sub-
space. Never in all his time in space had he ever seen a
ship move so smoothly, or felt power surge with this degree
of grace. It was, according to his counterpart Tolan, the
same aboard the Pegasus. Power beyond what they had ever
seen, smoothness and grace like a freely flowing stream.

“Excuse me?” said Tigh, turning from his own station to
regard the other.

“I was just admiring this new propulsion system, sir.
Its so much...beyond what we ever dreamed of at the Academy.”

“A lot of things are, Omega. We have a lot to get used
to.” He went back to his station. The Fleet was only a little
over a hundred and fifty centons out from the station, and
already they had covered nearly as much distance as that
from the Colonies to Carillon, a trip that had taken nearly
three days under optimum conditions, five days when evading
the Cylons. If only the Colonies had had engines like this,
back then, mused Tigh. They would never have lost the war.
If only...

“Yeah,” he muttered, too softly to be heard over the noise
of the bridge. If only….He sighed again. “ETA Earth space?”

“Four days, sixty-six centons, Colonel, present
speed,” came the reply. “According to Engineering, we can
safely move our speed up for some time yet.”

“Do so, Omega. Our current speed?”

“Uh...Warp Five point three, sir. Holding steady.”

“Increase to five point five. Inform the Pegasus.”

‘Yes, sir,” came the reply. Tigh watched as Omega carried
out the order, and heard the throb of the Battlestar’s
engines deepen slightly. The stars flew by faster, and he
allowed himself a moments smile at the decreasing ETA.

“She’s almost like a brand new ship,” said Athena, bringing
him a report to sign. She was ebullient, energetic, a
veritable bouncing ball of cheerfulness. He hadn’t seen her
like this since she returned from her last shore leave just
before the Armistice. For a moment, Tigh wondered at the
change in her demeanor from the other day, but did not
mention it. He signed the report, and handed it back to her.

“Yes, she is, Lieutenant,” he replied. “All these repaired
and upgraded systems. We haven’t had filtration at acceptable
levels since those two Cylons hit us. Now...” He let his hands
fall to his sides. “Our power, our recycling, our drive. Yes,
she’s really something now.”

“And the scanners, Colonel,” Athena went on. “I can see
almost twice as far in lightspeed, and at higher resolution,
then ever.”

“Earth on the scanners yet?” he asked her, smiling
slightly at her enthusiasm.

“No, but the Agro ships are. Well overtake them about
the time we reach Earth space, Colonel.”

“Good. Commander Adama wants us all to arrive at Earth
together.”

“I can hardly wait,” grinned Athena, returning to her
station, and scanning again. Since the Agro ships, even with
their newly acquired power plants, were slower than the
Battlestars now, they had been dispatched ahead of them to
Earth, almost a full day before the rest of the Fleet left
Station T-4. Aboard the lead ship Vineyard, were Sire
Montrose and Siress Tinia, selected by the Council as
Ambassadors from the Government of the Twelve Colonies, to
the United Federation of Planets. Federation Council
officials would be coming to meet them on the way, as a
first step towards the opening of full diplomatic relations
between the disparate nations. According to what they were
already receiving over a Federation news channel, FNN,
people all over the Federation were aware of their approach,
and Tigh sat watching a news show for a few centons. He
shook his head at the bad picture of himself on the program,
when the telecom beeped.

“Bridge. Colonel Tigh here.”

It was Wilker, several decks down, somewhere between
the main computer core and the Officers Club. Adama had
agreed to the installation aboard of one of the new
transporter devices, and it seemed that the prickly chief
scientist, and Assistant Engineer Twilly, were arguing over
some rarified technical detail of its construction. And
Wilker was calling him to complain!

Somehow, that struck Tigh as funny. The almost monkish
Wilker, and the hormone-sodden Twilly, arguing over a ...a
machine. Maybe it was the long-overdue liberation from fear
and the stress of war, maybe not, but Tigh couldn’t get the
crazy image of the two radically different men out of his
head. He tried, and tried...

And burst out in bellows of roaring laughter.

===============================

This is a FNN Special News Report: Brothers From Space.
Today, the greatest event in Earth history since the
founding of the Federation occurred. A fleet of vessels from
the uncharted depths of space arrived in the Terran solar
system. But this was no invasion by hostile forces, no
replay of the Romulan War. These ships are filled with Human
beings. Refugees from a previously unknown civilization, far
across the galaxy, calling itself The Colonies. Survivors of
a long and terrible war, against a cybernetic race called
the Cylons, these people, or rather Colonials as they prefer
to be called, unexpectedly appeared in Federation space near
the Tholian border fourteen days ago, amidst...

Adama turned from the news broadcast, being piped all
over the Fleet, to look about his bridge. Everyone was edgy,
whip-tense, waiting for the moment. They had dropped out of
warp late last night, to find the Agro ships a few light-
centons ahead of them, already having rendezvoused with a
Federation courier ship. Aboard were several high officials,
including the Federation President, and members of their
ruling council. Already, Sire Montrose and Siress Tinia,
working without the rest of the Council (especially the
irritating Sires Uri and Antipas) looking over their
shoulders, had already gone far to opening relations with
their Earth brothers, and Adama had himself already met the
Federation leader. As was, it seemed, common across the
universe, he had to submit to what the Feds called a “photo
op”, and answer seemingly endless, and he thought, tasteless,
questions from journalists, both from their own IFB, and
Earth-based media as well. Once done, he shook his head,
reflecting how the journalistic capacity for rudeness seemed
to transcend everything. What was that fellow’s name? he
mused. Donaldson? Rivera? Rather?

Oh Serina, they could certainly learn from you!

But that was past, for the moment. He found himself
straining, like the lowest rating below him. Straining for
the first glimpse of Earth, the first sight of the world
they had for so long striven, fought, and bled to reach. He
waited, his old muscles unconsciously tight with
anticipation, as the scanner readout counted down the
metrics. They had crossed the sun’s heliopause a few centons
ago, after having released all the ships in the Fleet, which
resumed their proper positions, and were continuing to
decelerate as they moved inwards. The scientist in Adama
tried to concentrate on the data the scanners were feeding
the library computer on the nature of the planets and
asteroids they were passing, but, like a wide-eyed child at
the circus for the first time, he kept turning back to look
at the same object over and over again.

“Father?” asked Apollo, Boxey at his side, moving up to
Adama. Still officially off-duty, and wearing civvies, the
Captain was nonetheless as anxious as the Commander for the
first look.

“Yes? Oh, Apollo. Uh, where’s Sheba?”

“She’s with her father, on the Pegasus. She says we
should observe tradition, and not see each other until the
sealing.”

“Sheba? Observing tradition?” said Athena, a little
bemused. The feisty woman from the House of Cain had always
struck her as anything but traditional. Boxey stifled a
laugh.

“Well, were going to be joining with another society,
sis,” said Apollo, sparing Boxey a reproving glare. “Until we
know what we need to keep, and where we need to assimilate,
we need to hold onto our traditions.”

“I agree, Apollo,” said Adama, unable to hide his
anticipation. Apollo watched his father a few moments, then
looked at Athena, shaking his head, smiling. “Father, I
haven’t seen you like this since Zac was learning to walk.”

“I feel...I feel like a young man again, Apollo,” said
Adama, smile wide, rubbing his hands together. “I cant
concentrate on anything but what’s ahead. Reminds me of your
mothers and my wedding night. I couldn’t...” He stopped, aware
of what he’d been about to say, and squeezed his eyes shut.
If his children noticed how red he was turning, they gave no
sign, but looked at each other for a moment, keeping it in.
Tigh was equally oblivious, a few diplomatic paces away, as
was Starbuck, who’d entered the bridge moments before with
Boomer, and several other pilots.

“Gentlemen?” asked the Colonel, giving his CO time to
recover. “Aren’t you all on duty?”

“I told them they could come, sir,” said Apollo, smiling,
to the ever by-the-book Tigh. “After all, I am Strike Leader.”

“But you’ve been relieved of duty, Captain, until...”

“It’s all right, Colonel,” said Adama, his old self again.
“We’ll bring him up on charges, later. For the moment, all
that matters is...”

“THERE!!” cried Rigel, down in the pit, and they forgot
everything, as Adama ordered: “Negative shield, now!” The
bridge seemed for a moment as silent as the Tombs of Kobol,
as the heavy blast shields parted, revealing a vista of
stars, and there, almost dead center in the view...

“My God...” said Tigh, in a voice as soft and reverent as
a worshipper. All around him, gasps and sobs filled the air,
as every pair of eyes moved up, ahead, to gaze out upon the
goal of so much suffering.

“We are here,” said Adama, softly, as if to himself. “By
heaven, Ila, we are here.” Both Apollo and Athena turned at
the unexpected mention of their mother’s name, and saw their
father slowly descend to one knee, and bow his head, hands
clasped on the railing, his lips moving in a near-silent
prayer of thanksgiving. Never one to feel as devout as his
father, Apollo nonetheless felt drawn to emulate the
Commander, and a few moments later, he actually caught
Starbuck, out of the corner of his eye, doing the same!

As the tiny blue dot in front of them grew and grew,
shining eyes and wet faces turned towards each other, every
visage contorted into a mask of utter joy. Larger and larger
she grew before them, till the landmasses became visible,
and then the Moon as well. Athena turned and embraced
Starbuck, and Apollo put a hand on his father’s shoulder.

One by one, the ships that had fought and sailed so far
and so long slowed again, bathing in the light of the blue
sphere and her alien sun, sailed past countless eyes and
cameras, now framed by the silver orb of the Moon. Slowly,
regally, and with an ineluctable grace, the two Battlestars
moved towards Earth, followed by their myriad charges. The
Colonial moving van, the mineral ship, the livestock ship,
the Prison Barge, the sleek and beautiful Rising Star, the
Celestra, scene of so much tragedy, the Agro ships, domes,
like vast cathedrals of diamond, afire with the light of
this new sun. Each and every survivor of the Holocaust,