X-NEWS: spcvxb rec.arts.startrek: 4918 Relay-Version: VMS News - V5.9C 19/12/89 VAX/VMS V5.3; site spcvxb.spc.edu Path: spcvxb!njin!rutgers!umn-d-ub!enielsen Newsgroups: rec.arts.startrek Subject: BG meets Big E (Part I) Message-ID: <3390@umn-d-ub.D.UMN.EDU> From: enielsen@umn-d-ub.D.UMN.EDU (eric nielsen) Date: 27 Apr 90 21:20:40 GMT Reply-To: enielsen@ub.d.umn.edu.UUCP (eric nielsen) Organization: University of Minnesota, Duluth Lines: 714 From umn-d-ub!rutgers!usc!brutus.cs.uiuc.edu!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!sol.ctr.columbia.edu!cica!iuvax!purdue!mentor.cc.purdue.edu!sku Tue Apr 17 12:49:45 CDT 1990 Article 44126 of rec.arts.startrek: Path: umn-d-ub!rutgers!usc!brutus.cs.uiuc.edu!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!sol.ctr.columbia.edu!cica!iuvax!purdue!mentor.cc.purdue.edu!sku >From: sku@mentor.cc.purdue.edu (Jeff Standish) Newsgroups: rec.arts.startrek Subject: Galactica and Enterprise (long story) Message-ID: <9746@mentor.cc.purdue.edu> Date: 17 Apr 90 03:22:05 GMT References: <5193@ptsfa.PacBell.COM> Reply-To: sku@mentor.cc.purdue.edu (Jeff Standish) Organization: Purdue University Lines: 701 Well, with all of the controversy over the Galactica beating... er, meeting the Enterprise, I got the idea to write a lil' story about this momentous event. (Sides, couldn't pass up the chance to irritate some r.a.s netters.) However, the story turned out to be rather longer than I expected, and was only able to write it straight though, without the chance to go back and rewrite or edit the story. As such, it is not as good as possible, but here it is anyway. At least had the opportunity to run a spell checker (it needed it), since I figured I would get enough flames without any being for spelling. Any any case, here it is, "Galactica and Enterprise" BTW- I did take a few literary freedom to make things fit, and I totally ignored the series Galactica: 1980 (mostly BS in my opinion). ---------------------------------------------------------------------- "I tell ya, Apollo, this system can't fail..." "Quiet, Starbuck," Apollo said, cutting off the chatter from his dusty-haired wing mate about his latest gambling scheme. "I think there's something entering the far side of this star system." Instantly alert, Starbuck reset his scanners from a sensor sweep of one of the planets in this system to long range scan so that his sensors could complement Apollo's. At the very edge of the triangular screen a small paint had appeared. "What do you make of it?" inquired Starbuck. "Don't know," muttered Apollo, fiddling with the settings on the scanner in his own viper. "Too far away yet for a solid scanner lock. But it must be a ship..." "Basestar?" prompted Starbuck, dread filtering into his voice. If the Cylons had managed to swing around in front of the fleet... But already new readings were coming out of the scanner. "No, it's much too small, not nearly enough mass for a Cylon base ship," returned the dark-haired Apollo, relief evident in his voice. "But who, then? It may not be a basestar, but it's still pretty large. We haven't come across any civilizations with the technology to build a vessel that size since we left the colonies..." "Maybe we could swing in behind the fourth planet of this system," Starbuck put in quickly to cut off thought of their destroyed home worlds. "We could get a better look and hopefully not be noticed." "Good idea," admitted Apollo. "I'll send a dispatch back to the fleet in case of..." This time he cut himself off, not wanting to say that this ship might be hostile. With the Cylons on their trail, the fleet had no need for any more enemies to deal with. With the practice of countless long range patrols, the two wing mates kicked in their turbos to bring their vipers in behind the gas giant that was the fourth planet of this star system. Worf stood at his control console like some repulsive gargoyle come to life. Perhaps on any other ship, the presence of this Klingon would have been oppressive. But on the bridge of the Enterprise, his brooding presence went unnoticed... at least for the most part. Now the Klingon's attention was riveted to the scanner readouts on his console. For a brief moment he had sworn that there had been an unusual energy reading near the fourth planet of this star system. Any human might have dismissed it as a momentary glitch in over-complicated workings of the Enterprise's vast electronics systemry. But as a Klingon, Worf's inherent paranoia was too great to allow that. He worked at the sensors, trying to locate the origin of that energy source. If it were a ship, then it would be a grave point of personal dishonor if he permitted it to escape his notice. So he worked to try and indentify the source, as he would not report what might be an errant fault in the system -- a ghost -- to Captain Picard. That too would be dishonor. Juggling this intricate Klingon honor, he even wanted to identify that energy source as ship. Not only would it bring him honor, but it might provide the opportunity for a battle, a chance to bring great honor to not only himself, but to the Enterprise as well... Then he smiled to himself, in the Klingon manner. Not outwardly, that would be a sign of weakness, but inwardly as a person show of satisfaction. "Captain," Worf barked in his typical dour voice, with no outward display of his satisfaction present. "I am showing two small craft hiding behind the fourth planet." "On main viewer, Mr. Worf," Picard said, standing up, glad for the distraction of Riker's and Troi's idle banter. The main viewer shifted from the usual entrancing view of the warp-distorted stars to a much magnified view of Theta Sigma IV. A huge gas giant reminiscent of Jupiter, tough nearly twice the size, with an intricate series of rings loomed in front of the bridge crew. "My readings indicate what appear to be two small craft hiding in the rings on the far side of the planet. They are scanning us with low-intensity sensors," Worf elaborated. "Can you identify them?" Picard inquired, turning to face the Klingon Lieutenant. "Negative, Sir," Worf admitted, trying to ignore the stab at his honor. "It is only by their sensor probes that they are detectable. The emissions are just apparent over the background radiation of the planet. I can detect nothing beyond this." "Hum. Mr. Data?" Picard prompted. "I have the readings on those craft. They are too small for our sensors to detect at this range while they remain hidden in the planet's rings." "How close will we pass by the fourth planet?" "Since Theta Sigma IV is on the far side of the star system," reported Data, "it will be the last planet we map." "So we cannot take a closer look at them without giving away to them that we know they are there," Picard thought aloud. "Are there any civilizations nearby that they could have come from?" "This system _is_ on the outer edge of explored territory," Riker pointed out. "They may be from a civilization that the Federation has not yet contacted." Knowing that the only planets orbiting Theta Sigma were two airless rocks and three gas giants, Picard surmised, "They obviously have interstellar capability, which would imply a highly developed society." "Perhaps they too are mapping this system," put in Data. "It is possible that they are from an expanding society whose outer border is only now coming into contact with that of the Federation." "Possible," admitted Picard. "But then why have we not detected any form of communication from this sector? If there were such a society, we should surely have detected some sign of their existence by now." "Do we try to talk to them?" Riker queried. "It might be wiser to permit them to make first contact. They may just be sizing us up to make sure we are peaceful." "They may also be probing our weaknesses in preparation for an attack," mutter Worf darkly. "Always the pessimist, Worf," quipped Deanna Troi. "They obviously do not want us to know they are there, so we will respect their privacy for now. We will keep will our mission and map all of the planets in this system. Obviously when we reach the fourth planet they will have had time to decide what they are going to do. Mr. Worf, just keep an eye on those ships and let us know when they do anything unusual," ordered Picard. "Colonel Tigh, we are receiving a tight-beam transmission from alpha patrol," reported bridge officer Omega. The dark-skinned Colonel turned to look at the screen Omega indicated. "What does it say?" asked Tigh even as he started to read the brief message. "They have encountered a ship of unknown origin in the star system directly in front of us," reported Omega. "It does not appear to be a Cylon ship, but they have no idea who it might be." "Then you had better let Commander Adama know about this." Then, when the thought occurred to him, Tigh asked of Omega, "Alpha patrol, that is Apollo and Starbuck, correct?" "Yes, sir." "Well, at least they are the best we have. Hopefully they can take care of this." "Why do I get the feeling that they are playing with us?" muttered Starbuck. "I know what you mean, good buddy," returned Apollo. As the two pilots had watched the starship mapping this system, had agreed that they could certainly not fight it alone, nor could they run the risk of leading it to the fleet by leaving their position. That left only communication with this ship. Watching they ship, they had located a number of powerful weapons systems on it that could possible equal that of even a battlestar. However, its thin, stream-lined construction would certainly not stand up to the pounding of battle. This ship looked more like a luxury liner that a warship. "I wonder if they have gaming tables?" Starbuck asked idly. "You never give it up, do you?" responded Apollo. "No, I don't," Starbuck agreed in the same idle voice. "If that is one of their luxury liners, then how powerful would of their warships be?" Apollo thought aloud. "Maybe powerful enough to wipe the Cylons out of the cosmos," considered Starbuck. Then, "I wonder what the odds are that that ship is from Earth." "Slim to none," answered Apollo, "considering how far we have come without even a hint of the thirteenth tribe." "But we are getting closer to the coordinates that we got from... well, whoever they were." Starbuck had long since trying to figure out who or what those beings had been, though trying to forget them was another matter. "Those coordinates may not even be correct," pointed out Apollo. "We'll never find out until we get there." After awhile, Starbuck pondered, "Do we try to contact them now?" "There's not much else we can do," admitted Apollo. "We've learned about all we can just sitting here. Not to mention the strain the radiation is having on our ships." "Well, then, how do we do it?" "Captain," reported Worf, "those two ships are moving out from behind the fourth planet." "Excellent. Are they hailing us?" "Negative, Sir," responded Worf as he tracking the two incoming vessels. "They are one-manned fighters, armed with charged energy cannons. Their drive systems are of a highly unusual and unknown type." Peering closer at the readout to make certain he read it correctly, Worf added, "Sir, the pilots of those ships..." "...they're Human, I tell you!" Starbuck crowed to his wing mate. Examining the scanner readout now that they were closer to the starship and free from the distorting effects of the radiation of the fourth planet, Apollo found his sensors in complete agreement with those in Starbuck's viper. "I don't believe it," he admitted. "Over ninety percent of the crew is Human. Maybe we _have_ located the thirteenth colony!" "Human?" Picard echoed with a bit of surprise. "And in ships completely unknown to the Federation? Is it possible that they are smugglers? or perhaps a lost colony?" On the main view screen, the two small craft speed though space, sleek and vicious-looking. Worf's hand hovered near the arming controls for the Enterprise's weapons systems and shield controls. "This far out on the edge of Federation territory?" wondered Riker. "We are only now beginning to map this area, let alone colonize it." "Sir, those craft are hailing us," Worf reported. Deanna hit a smile behind her hand as she felt the disappointment and frustration from the Klingon. "Open the frequency." Picard turned to the view screen, tugging at his uniform. "We have their signal, audio only." Unperturbed, Picard looked at the ships on the screen, saying, "This is Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the Federation Starship Enterprise." Apollo adjusted the translator built into his comlink as it replayed the message, that those on the ship might understand him. Toggling on his comline, he responded, struggling a moment over the unusual sounding name, "Greetings, Captain Picard. I am Captain Apollo. I... I am in search of information relating to Humans, and I..." "What he's trying to say," cut in Starbuck eagerly, "is if you've ever heard of a planet called Earth?" "Starbuck, shut up! That's an order," Apollo shot back at his wing mate, glaring out into space past his wing, where Starbuck's viper was just visible in the distance. "I fail to understand the reasoning behind you question, Captain," Picard said with some bewilderment. "Of course I have heard of Earth. It is, after all, the planet of origin of humanity." Apollo started to ask Picard the location of Earth, when the meaning of Picard's exact words occurred to him. "What do you mean it is the planet of origin of humanity? Surely you mean that it is the second home of humanity?" After a pause, Picard responded, "I believe that we are both confused, Captain Apollo. What exactly do you mean by 'the second home of humanity?'" "Do you mean to say that you have never heard of Kobol?" Apollo asked incredulously. "I cannot say that I have. What is this 'Kobol?'" Apollo closed off his end of the comline to the Enterprise, switching over to an intership link with Starbuck's viper. "I don't like this," he commented. "How could they have forgotten Kobol?" "The thirteenth tribe was the last to leave Kobol," pointed out Starbuck. "We never knew what happened to them in their journey to Earth. It seems that they made it, but who knows what happened to them en route?" "Yes, I suppose that it might be possible that they forgot much of the lore on their trip. But Picard said that Earth was the 'origin' of humanity. Could they actually believe that humanity evolved on Earth?" "Why are you so down on this? If that ship is any indicator of their power, we'll never have to worry about the Cylon Empire again," said Starbuck. "If they remember nothing of Kobol, then how likely are they to believe us when we tell them of Kobol?" "Leave that to the Council and Adama. The point is that we've _found_ them!" "Yah, well, send a tight-band message back to the fleet, and make sure that the Enterprise does not detect it." Taking advantage of the sudden silence from the two fighters, Picard had asked Data about these references to Kobol. Referencing the ship's library computer from the Ops console, Data spoke without turning from the pages of information flashing before his eyes, "I am unable to find any references to any planet called 'Kobol,' nor any other reference under that name." "Why would they be trying to say that Earth is not the origin of humanity?" Picard asked aloud of no one at all. "Were they lying, Counselor?" "I sensed no attempt at falsehood. However, they were extremely surprised at your remark about Earth being humanity's planet of origin. It is as though they know this to be false," Deanna surmised. Before Picard could continue, Worf spoke up, saying, "I am picking up a brief energy burst from the fighters. It appears to be a tight- beam transmission to an unknown destination. Unable to intercept, Sir... Sir, they have reopened communications." Turning back to face the two fighters shown on the main screen, Picard asked, "Captain Apollo, would you please explain what 'Kobol' is?" Warily, Apollo responded with, "I believe that had best be left to others to attend to. For now we need to talk about Earth." "Then perhaps you would care to come aboard the Enterprise that we might talk personally." After a moment, Apollo agreed, "That might indeed." "Commander Adama, there is another message coming in from alpha patrol," Omega said, turning to the gray-haired Commander. As Adama walked over to the bridge officer's post, Omega exclaimed excitedly, "Commander! The ship they have encountered is from Earth!" Adama practically leaped over the remaining distance to Omega's station in the stunned silence that fell over the bridge. Then a sudden roar of elation broke loose from the dozens of crew on the Galactica's massive bridge. Adama turned to congratulate Tigh, but found his second-in-command staring intently at the screen before Omega, his brow furrowed deeply. "Adama, there is more to the message," Tigh spoke up over the din, pointing to the last lines of the transmission, reading aloud: "`They know nothing of Kobol. Will attempt to attain further information. Will advise.'" Starbuck tossed his helmet into the cockpit of his viper, muttering something about landing in his locker as he looked around the Enterprise's shuttle bay, which was positively puny next to the Galactica's spacious landing bays. Dropping down from the side of his viper, the roguish fighter pilot joined Apollo, who was moving over towards where several of the Enterprise's crew stood. Some of them were apparently security personnel, their hands hovering near their weapons, eyeing the two pilots' more massive blasters. "Wonder if they always run around in their underwear?" Starbuck whispered to his friend, adding, "'Course it works on her," his eyes roving over Counselor Troi's form. "Try and behave yourself," Apollo cautioned him. "If they are of the thirteenth tribe, we don't want your hormones scaring them off." About this point, the bearded man who appeared to be the ranking member of these humans (including the alien who looked like he had a tortoise shell growing under his scalp) spoke up, having been distracted a moment by the gleam in Troi's eyes as she returned Starbuck's smile, saying, "Welcome aboard the Enterprise, gentlemen. I am Commander Riker, First Officer." "Commander Riker," acknowledged Apollo, recognizing that these people obviously had a different rank system, "I'm Captain Apollo, and this is Lieutenant Starbuck." "This way, sirs," Riker motioned towards the exit. "The Captain would like to speak with you personally." Riker gestured for Worf to dismiss the security personnel, who were apparently unneeded once again. Along the brief trip to the main briefing room, Riker introduced Troi and Worf to the pilots. In the briefing room they joined Picard and Data, taking seats at the large conference table. "Well, gentlemen, you seem to present us with an enigma," Picard began. "What exactly did you mean by these comments of yours about humanity not originally being from Earth?" Apollo and Starbuck exchanged glances before Apollo inquired, "You mean that you have no record of Kobol?" After a glance of his own towards Picard, Data spoke up, admitting, "I have accessed all available records of planets, and we have no knowledge of any planet by the name of Kobol." "Is Kobol a lost Earth colony?" Riker prompted. Trying to watch the reactions of these humans, Apollo revealed, "Kobol is not a colony. Earth is the colony world. Kobol is the home world of all humanity." This revelation did indeed spark a great deal of surprise amongst the crew of the Enterprise. When a look from Troi told Picard that the pilots were not lying, he said, "I find that very difficult to believe that humanity did not originate on Earth. All of our archaeological information conclusive says that humans _did_ evolve on the planet Earth." "Then your tribe has lost all records of the exodus from Kobol and the other twelve tribes?" asked Apollo, finding that very difficult to believe. They had not known what to expect of the thirteenth colony when and if they would ever reach Earth, but to have completely lost all knowledge of their past? "We have said that we have no records of any world known as Kobol. And as for Earth being a colony world, that goes against all known information of Human evolution," Picard stated. "Why don't you tell us about all of this?" he put forth, hoping that these men were not lunatics, though Troi's look did not indicate this. "Maybe we should leave this to Adama," Starbuck offered to Apollo, before he could say anything. Apollo paused to consider that. "Who is Adama?" Riker queried. "The Commander of the fleet," responded Apollo. "You have a war fleet out there," broke in Worf in he usual Klingon suspicion of all strangers... and friends, also. "A fleet, yes. Though I would hardly call it a war fleet," commented Starbuck. With a melancholy sigh, Apollo began to speak: "Our fleet is the last remaining remnant of humanity from the twelve colony worlds. Our worlds were annihilated by the Cylon Empire. Only barely were we able to escape. For the past several yarhens we have been trying to evade the detection of the Cylons, who have marked humanity for extinction. They will stop at nothing to destroy us. Earth was the last chance that we had. Less than a chance even, since many believed Earth to be little more than a myth passed from generation to generation. "You see, our home world, Kobol, was dying, and the thirteen tribes of humanity were forced to flee to another home. The first twelve tribes were able to reach the colony worlds that were chosen as humanity's new home. Unfortunately, the thirteenth and final tribe, the last to flee Kobol, was lost in the voyage to the twelve colony worlds. No trace was ever found of them. A myth spoke of a lush world far from the colonies, a world called Earth. It was believed by a few that the last tribe had made it to Earth. Since you admit that you are from Earth, then it is obvious that your tribe, the thirteenth, was able to reach Earth." "An intriguing story," Picard considered, "but how is it that we have no knowledge of this great exodus that you speak of." Spreading his hands, Apollo admitted, "I cannot say. Perhaps my... Perhaps Commander Adama would have an idea. He knows more of the ancient lore of Kobol than any other in the fleet." "Then perhaps we should go and meet this fleet of yours," suggested Picard. "That might not be wise yet," Apollo pointed out. "They do not yet know if you are friendly." After a moment's pause for consideration, knowing that these people did not yet believe him, he offered, "Starbuck can go on ahead and speak with Adama, and I can then guide you to the fleet once they know that you are not a threat." Realizing that open faith would be best, Picard agreed, ordering Worf to take Starbuck back to the shuttle bay. "Assuming I can get my viper out of that storage locker you call a landing bay," Starbuck commented darkly as they left the briefing room. Taking advantage for the break in the conversation, Worf axed, "Who are these Cylons that you speak of?" Apollo frowned, admitting, "We know little of them. Once we settled on the twelve colony worlds, we began to trade with the local races that we discovered. In time, we encountered the Cylon Empire. At first we thought they would be good friends, but we quickly learned that they did not view other races as equals, only inferior beings to be subjugated and enslaved. When we tried to help one planet that they were crushing under they unfeeling grip, they attacked us without warning, destroying many of out ships and outposts. That was over a thousand yarhens. The war has raged ever since. In all of that time, we have learned so very little about them. All we really do know about their beliefs is that they view us as a threat to their view of the universe. They have no compassion for other races, and even little for their own kind. "Physically, they are somewhat amorphous lizards, able to alter their appearance to a degree. Most of them -- and all of their centurions, their warriors -- wear mechanized suits that incorporate computers into their brains, further taking away from any feelings that they might have." Leaning forward onto the table, frowning, he added, "They kill without emotion, and give up their own lives with equal ease. Only once did we make the mistake of trusting them... The price of that mistake was the destruction of all of twelve of our colony worlds." Apollo broke off, unable to say anything further for the moment. In the silence, a streak of light shot away from the Enterprise and disappeared into the vastness of space in a fraction of an instant. Worf then reported that Starbuck had departed in his fighter. "Your say that this war has lasted more than one thousand 'yarhens,'" Data inquired. "Exactly what is the duration of one yarhen?" Apollo thought for a moment before saying, "I guess all of our time scales have no meaning to you. I cannot think of any way to convert centons or yarhens into whatever time units you might use." "I see that you wear a time piece. If you could tell me what conversion ratios exist between your time units, I could translate them into our time units," offered Data. Taking off the wrist piece, Apollo handed it to the gold-skinned humanoid. "These are microns, and these centons," Apollo started, listing off a couple more time units, along with conversion rates and the number system. "Ahh, good, a decimal system," Data said approvingly. Apollo had expected Data to pull out a small computer or something. But instead, he just stared at the watch for several seconds before handing it back to Apollo and declaring, "One micron is approximately 4.32 seconds, so one centon 7.2 minutes. One hundred centons would therefore be almost exactly 12 hours, so one yarhen is approximately 500 standard days, meaning that 1000 yarhens are roughly 1370 standard years, allowing for the error of this time piece." Apollo starred incredulously at Data as he proceeded to rattle off the list of conversions. "How did you manage to do that?" Apollo gaped. "I am an android," Data replied by way of explanation. Apollo almost physically jerked back into his seat. Sensing the pilot's sudden jump of emotions, Troi asked with much concern, "Are you alright?" "I'm sorry. It's just a nervous reaction. Capricans -- and most of the other eleven tribes -- detest robots, most especially those in the shape of a Human. Almost certainly a result of a millennium of war with the Cylons." To this Data showed no outward signs of being hurt by Apollo's words. "Understandable," Picard agreed. "When shall we depart to meet with your fleet?" Considering, Apollo had to admit, "That all depends upon how fast this ship can move." Smiling, Riker proclaimed, "The Enterprise is one of the fastest ships in Starfleet. It can almost reach Warp factor 10." When the Commander obviously failed to consider that Apollo had no idea what a Warp factor might be, Data added, "A Warp factor is taken to the fifth power to determine a velocity greater than the speed of light." Somewhat surprised, Apollo asked, "You mean your ship is able to travel at superluminal velocities?" "No, the Enterprise never actually even approaches the speed of light. We employ a warp field to distort space so that we travel short distance in the warp field, while outside of the warp field we are traversing a much greater distance in space." "Ohh. Something along the lines of our own Maron drive," Apollo acknowledged. "But you measure the rate of change of position outside the field while we measure velocity inside of the field. That is what threw me off." "Then we should leave now?" Riker prompted. "Since it sounds like you can at least keep pace with a viper, I guess that we should." "Then shall we adjourn to the bridge?" suggested Picard. Leaning on the railing that encircled the upper level of the bridge, Adama considered this baffling situation. Having listened to Starbuck's report of his encounter with this starship Enterprise, Adama was at a momentary loss for how the thirteenth tribe could have lost all knowledge of Kobol. However, the luxury of contemplating this question was not his. There were still traces of Cylons pursuing the fleet, while the report of encountering a ship from Earth had rapidly spread. Already most of the fleet was hearing various rumors. Captains of various vessels of the fleet were demanding answers from the Galactica, while the Council of Twelve was attempting to overrun the bridge, believing it their right to be the first to welcome the thirteenth tribe. Adama's consideration of these and other problems was cut off when Athena called out that she was picking up a ship at extreme sensor range in front of the Galactica. This being an unusual switch from the faint traces of Cylons tagging along far behind the fleet. "How long until the Enterprise reaches the fleet?" Adama inquired. "It is still twelve centons away at current speed." "What do the sensor probes indicate about their technology?" "At this range, little more than what we downloaded from Starbuck's viper," Omega supplied. "Their main power source appears to be from matter/anti-matter annihilation. They employ a variation spatial dilation drive for propulsion." Furrowing his brow, Omega added, "It would seem that they use an advanced matter fusion system for movement in the region of spatial distortion. But it is nothing as powerful as our own tylium thrusters. If fact, within the region of dilation, their actual velocity does not even approach light speed." "You mean that they use the field of warped space for their primary mode of traversing space?" Tigh deduced rather incredulously. "What a tremendous waste of energy." "Your ships actually utilize chemical fuels for propulsion?" Riker choked out. "But there is no way a simple chemical fuel could produce sufficient energy to power a warp drive." "You weren't at Carillon," muttered Apollo. "Carillon?" questioned Data. "One of many ambushes the Cylon's set for us. There was a large tylium mine on Carillon -- the largest I have ever heard of. The mine was caught on fire and exploded, totally obliterating the entire planet. Tylium is the most powerful source of energy we have ever encountered. The conversion of tylium into solium produces more than adequate energy to approach light speed... Or in terms you would understand: to generate a warp field in which our ships travel, utilizing both the dilation of space and relativistic velocities," Apollo explained to the Enterprise's First Officer. "We find that is it sufficient to simply utilize the warpage of space for star travel," Data supplied. "But then you would be wasting extra energy that way," Apollo continued. For all they technology, how could these people be so foolish? "The amount of energy required to increase actual velocity is much smaller than that required to maintain the more continual requirements of a greater ratio in the dilation of space." "Sir," Worf interrupted. "We are now within visual range of the fleet." "On screen, Mr. Worf," Picard commanded. On the main view screen, the silhouettes of the fleet appeared, then grew visible as the computer enhanced the lighting of the image, showing the magnificence of the battlestar Galactica, leading the hundred plus assorted transport ships that housed the sole surviving populace of the twelve colony worlds. "I can see why you call them battlestars," Picard commented, observing the sheer massiveness of the Galactica, with the numerous weapon emplacements that dotted its surface, visible even at this range. "Sensors indicate that the Galactica is only slightly longer than the Enterprise, yet outmasses us by approximately three times," reported Worf. "There are 120 ships in the 'fleet.' None have significant weapon's capacity besides the Galactica." "Thank you, Mr. Worf," Picard interrupted, before the Klingon proceeded to rattle off the entire combat capability of the battlestar. Looking over the 'fleet,' Picard asked, "Those vessels actually were able to handle a voyage across more than half of the galaxy?" "Almost none of them were actually constructed for interstellar travel," Apollo admitted. "We were forced to make due with what could be salvaged during the devastation of the colonies. Even after the initial Cylon assault, all too many of our people were forced to stay behind because there was simply not enough room for them." "Could none of them have been spared by you Cylons?" asked Riker. "None. Every last one would have been slaughtered by the Cylons," Apollo replied, not allowing himself to think of the only exception to that statement. "It is indeed a miracle that you were able to make it this far," Picard thought aloud. "And you say that the Cylons have hounded you all the way? But surely they would have been satisfied with destroying your homeworlds." "No," Apollo contradicted. "Their goal is the total extermination of the Human race. To them, we are a threat to their Empire as long as even one Human remains alive." Then, warningly, "They have followed us this far, so it will be inevitable that they will learn of your Federation. Discovering that there is another source of Human civilization will cause them to attack you. You will have to prepare your battle fleets. But considering the power of this ship, the Cylons will not likely be able to stand against your warships." "This _is_ a warship," barked out Worf. Surprised, Apollo commented, "This looks more like a luxury liner than a war ship." "The Enterprise is the most powerful ship in Starfleet," Riker informed the pilot. "But surely there are other ships of equal power," Apollo considered. "Currently, the Enterprise is the only Galaxy class starship in Starfleet. However, there must be another alternative than battle," Picard theorized. "Is there not a chance that the Cylons will accept peace, now that your home worlds have been destroyed?" "Haven't you been listening to me?" cried out Apollo in disbelief. "The Cylons will stop at nothing less than the death of every last Human. They have be trying to obliterate us for more than a millennium. Why would they even consider it now?" "But if they are confronted by the might of Starfleet, will they not at least accept a treaty?" Riker proposed. "If they did, it would only be to amass a fleet of basestars powerful enough to destroy your Starfleet. No, we have tried for more than a thousand yarhens for peace. I have already told you of the result of that so called 'peace' they offered. Peace will only exist when one of our races has been utterly destroyed. The Cylons have made it painfully clear that that is the only solution that can accept," Apollo finished dejectedly. "We are approaching the fleet," Data informed them. "Bring us around onto a parallel heading," Picard commanded Weasley Crusher, who sat at the navigation console. "We are being hailed by the Galactica," Worf reported. "On screen, Mr. Worf," ordered Picard. The blue clad form of Adama appeared on the main view screen, larger than life, any trace of exhaustion having been erased by this event, the near completion of a quest that had covered many yarhens and more than half of the galaxy. "You must be Commander Adama," Picard ventured by way of an introduction. "I am Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the Federation Starship Enterprise." "Well met, Picard. I believe that there is much to discuss." "I agree," agreed Picard. "We can beam you over to the Enterprise so we can begin working on the future of your fleet immediately." "'Beam over?'" Adama echoed hollowly. "I do not understand your meaning." "You do not have transporter technology?" Riker asked rather amazedly. Life without beaming around in away teams was difficult for the bored First Officer to contemplate. "I take it you do not mean shuttle craft?" "Your people have not developed matter teleportation?" Picard clarified. "You have matter transmission technology?" excitedly burst out an elderly, white-haired, scientific-looking fellow from behind Adama. Adama silenced Dr. Wilker with one hand, turning back to the screen. "The ethical and theological implications of ripping someone apart atom by atom and reassembling him were too great on the Twelve Worlds. Such devices were considered evil by many of those in the colonies, as such we never pursued the development of them," Adama revealed. "It would be best if we were to use shuttle craft for the time being." "The shuttle bay of the Enterprise is rather small," pointed out Apollo. "Starbuck should be the one who pilots the shuttle craft, if anyone." "Very good," Picard said. "Then we shall meet you in our shuttle bay." Adama stopped as soon as he stepped into the Galactica's behemoth landing bay. "I'm sorry, Sir," Boomer offered. "But I could not dissuade them." His hand moved unconsciously towards his blaster. "As you can see they thought to bring their own guards." Moving towards where the Council of Twelve stood waiting to board the readied shuttle, Adama stated flatly, "Your assistance in this matter is unnecessary." "We will accompany you," spoke up one of the Council members. "It is our duty to welcome the descendants the thirteenth tribe." "I believe that you are one of the more outspoken on the Council who maintained that Earth was nothing more than a myth, Sire Montrose," Adama pointed out. "In any case, as I am the President of the Council of Twelve, I am the one with the responsibility to attend to these affairs. Our assistance is not required." "Surely you will agree that this not the time to bring up the question of who is in power, is it Adama?" Montrose asked oily, gesturing vaguely towards the dark-uniformed Council guardsmen. "I do not need this," Adama sighed to himself. Then to Starbuck and Boomer, he said quietly, "Have a second shuttle readied immediately." To the Council members and guardsmen, Adama said wearily, "Very well, then, board the shuttle." At this, the Council moved onto the shuttle, chattering amongst themselves like excited children. Following them, Adama hit a button on the door control panel, sealing the door. To several other viper pilots, Adama said blandly, "See to it that they do not get off of this shuttle until I am away." Smiling at the Commander's ruse, the jumped to comply. Adama moved off towards the second shuttle that Boomer and Starbuck were powering up. Picard and company watched as the blocky Galactican shuttle craft lumbered its way into the Enterprise's shuttle bay, dwarfing the Enterprise's shuttles and even Apollo's viper, which had all been moved to provide sufficient room for the much larger shuttle. Soon, Adama descended the shuttle's ramp, moving to greet the Captain of the Enterprise. However, he was interrupted in mid-step when the Enterprise's red-alert klaxons started sounding. Just then, Starbuck leapt out of the shuttle, calling out, "Commander! Tigh's calling on the comlink. There is a massive Cylon task force closing on the fleet!" [to be continued... maybe] ---------------------------------------------------------------------- So, any ideas on how such a battle sould be fought? Will Adama seize control of the Enterprise's bridge (much to Worf's enthusiasm)? Will Picard wet his uniform? Is the Enterprisse to be blasted to bits by the Cylon task force? Will the Ferengi finally sell Picard a spine? Or will Super-Picard return to lead the Enterprise into the heart of the Cylon capitol to single-handedly duke it out with the Cylon Imperious Leader? All to be revealing the next installment, or not, depending on whether I have the time for part 2, and whether enough people like (or loath ;-) this story. Now, if you will excuse me, I do believe I should go invest in an asbestos flak suit.