Battlestar Galactica -- Star Trek: The Next Generation crossover 


There are those who believe that life here began out there, far across
the universe, with tribes of humans who may have been the forefathers of
the Egyptians, or the Toltecs, or the Mayans. That they may have been the
architects of the great pyramids, or the lost civilizations of Lemuria or
Atlantis. Some believe that there may yet be brothers of man who even now
fights to survive, somewhere beyond the stars.

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

ARRIVAL
by Rick Blackburn
fonebone154@earthlink.net

The survivors of the Colonial Republic finally find Earth and the 13th
Tribe --- in the 24th Century
======================================================= 

     The four lines of battle-weary civilian starships of the evacuation
fleet were seriously distended and twisted. Two hundred thirty-seven
starships of every size and description -- and between them home to the
survivors of the Cylon surprise attack on the Colonial Republic five
yahrens ago. 68,504 souls, over a third of them preadolescent children,
all that was left of Kobolian humanity. Adama had always maintained that
the lost 13th Tribe had settled a far off world named *Earth*. Adama had
used the legend from the Sacred Scrolls to keep the civilians from
slipping into depression and panic in the early days of their flight from
the Cylon Alliance, but over the yahrens, even he had begun to loose
faith in the possibility of finding Earth -- IF it even existed.
     The fleet would have to stop soon to regroup into a more compact
formation so that the two battlestars and five smaller but fast and
heavily armed gunships{ * } of Adama's tiny military command could supply
even minimal protection from Cylon attack. Now if only Commander Cain of
the *Battlestar Pegasus* would return from his rearguard sweep, Adama
could sleep easier this evening.
     "Commander, long range sensors are detecting the return of the
*Pegasus*," reported bridge officer Omega. "175 degrees aft, 5 degrees
above the fleet axis and 70 centons out."
     "*Thank the Lords of Kobol*," Adama whispered under his breath, and
then turned to Omega, "Establish vidacon communication with Pegasus Core
Control."
     "Commander Cain making contact now, sir."
     The craggy features of the other battlestar commander filled the
main screen. At once Adama could see all was not well, smoke and erratic
electrical arcing from battle damage to the Core Control was evident.
     "Hello, old friend," Cain's sly half grin and the embarrassed timbre
of his voice together with the state of his control center alerted Adama
to prepare for bad news. Adama was thankful for the added protection
supplied by *Pegasus* to the civilian evacuation fleet, but why - *oh
why* in the names of all the odd gods of the galaxy did Cain forever have
to go off LOOKING for a fight with the Cylons -- instead of taking the
job of convoy guard seriously? Adama had tried over and over to explain
that the safety of the people MUST come first... there would be more than
enough time to renew the war against the Cylons AFTER they had found
Earth and the Thirteenth Tribe.
     "I'm afraid I ran into a little trouble back there...."
     Adama sighed, "Okay, WHAT kind of trouble?"
     "Cylons. I've got two basestars on my tail only a few centons behind
me and another one not far behind those. Don't worry though, my Viper
squadrons have denuded the first two basestars of most of their raiders,
Apollo should be able to mop them up easily...and by the time the third
catches up, my squadrons will be refueled and rearmed. Damn it Adama
we're *GOING TO KILL THREE BASESTARS* between us!!"
     "Yes," Adama muttered, "If they don't kill us first!"
     "Adama..."
     "I just wish to hell you'd THINK a little before you do these
things!" Adama sighed again. "Alright, you've committed us. Assuming we
survive this I want to see you aboard the Galactica as soon as possible."
     Cain's face betrayed his disappointment as Adama broke the
connection.
     "Omega, sound battle stations, and alert the gunships. Launch blue
and red squadrons, prepare main batteries for ship to ship engagement."
     Wordlessly, bridge officer Omega carried out Commander Adama's
orders, alerting the huge Colonial warship for battle.

 ----------------------------------------------------

Stardate 6407.23 -- 07:55:07 Galactic Mean Time
Captain's Log, *U. S. S. Enterprise* NCC-1701D
Triangle Sector
     "The Enterprise has been ordered to begin the field  testing of a
new target tracking sensor array with an advanced QLR { ** } Radar which, 
according to manufacturer's specs, can track up to 1200 bogies out to 76
AUs,  even under the most harsh combat conditions. To test this new TTSA,
Enterprise has been ordered to the Caladann Nebulae, which is an
extremely  active Murasaki-type nebulae with an especially hot Class-W
star at its core. This should put the new TTA to a maximum test.
Enterprise will be the flagship of a three ship Task Force. Accompanying
Enterprise are the *USS Canaberra*, an Intrepid class frigate and the
*USS Fafnir*, a Shawnee-class destroyer escort.
     "Also engaged in the exercise will be the Klingon Vortcha-class
cruiser *Wamach-charr*, an old D-7 light cruiser from the Four Years War
era, and two K-42 warbird escort vessels. The Klingon Task Force is
commanded by Commodore Kevar. Kevar is today an almost unique example of
a Human-Klingon fusion in a position of command. His ancestors were
specifically bred to oppose the Federation in combat in the days when the
Imperial Race [which Worf is a representative of] chose not to directly
engage in combat against alien races. Those days are long gone now, with
the fusion races [Klingon-Human and Klingon-Romulan] in a state of
disgrace because of their behavior during the  Kinshaya Wars at the turn
of the century. Since that war, the Imperial Race had reasserted its
dominance in the Klingon Military as well as in the socio-political
sphere, and hybrids with such authority as Kevar are rare.
     "The TTSA sensors have phenomenal resolution, allowing us to detect
and identify an anomalous cluster of energy readings even through the
clutter and grass of the murisaki-type nebulae. Several hours ago, long
range sensors detected the unmistakable signature of heavy photon-weapons
fire, some five light years from our proposed mock battlefield. Totally
across the breadth of the nebulae, someone else is involved in a serious
confrontation. Since both the Federation and the Klingons consider this
area of space to be strategic, the Klingon Commander, Kevar, and I have
decided to investigate this situation, and are proceeding to the center
of the subspace disturbance at warp seven."  -- End Log Entry.

     Starfleet Captain Jean Luc Picard glanced around the bridge, his
first shift crew was here, preparing to engage whatever was out there
causing all the subspace disturbance. Picard's eyes stopped on the
Command Computer station in the left rear quadrant of the bridge, and
Lieutenant Commander Geordi LaForge, Chief Engineer. No doubt about it,
LaForge had all the earmarks of a future starship Captain, he would one
day be the one giving the orders. But for now he was in charge of making
sure that all of the Enterprise's physical plant -- its engines, power
reactors, and life support systems were operating at peak efficiency. It
was the newly promoted Lt. Commander's job to make sure that if the
Captain called for warp speed, the Enterprise was able to deliver.
     Lieutenant Commander Deanna Troi, Picard was sure, was in the midst
of doing a light telepathic scan of the crew - and perhaps even the
Klingons, trying to isolate any knots of extreme stress that might cause
a catastrophic failure of some system due to human error -- or worse, the
mental breakdown of a crew member. Her authority as Ship's Councilor
backed up by her Betazoid T+3 MenTalt rating gave her unprecedented
ability to diagnose, and even "fix" problems on the human side of the
equation. Commander William Riker, Picard's Executive Officer, was
working as diligently and speedily with the Enterprise's Star Pilot, Lt.
Sarah McDougal, to make sure that the ship's sublight maneuver systems
were in top shape. If Enterprise were forced into combat, McDougal would
have the responsibility of making sure Enterprise was not where enemy
gunners expected it to me, while holding the ship steady for Lieutenant
Worf, Klingon Warrior, and Enterprise's Tactical Action Officer. Worf was
busy conducting last minute diagnostics, making certain that if called
upon, the Enterprise's weapons would do her crew honor in combat against
any enemy. Worf was relieved that as usual, the ordnance crews had
maintained the ship's "teeth" in tip-top shape - he would not have the
embarrassing loss of face of having to report to Picard that one or more
weapons were off line because of maintenance faults. To loose the use of
a weapons system in combat was an inconvenience, but it was expected and
was NOT dishonorable, but to loose them because of laziness or error....
Worf shuttered and allowed himself a moment's relaxation to prepare
mentally for the coming conflict in the Komerex Zha, the Great Game of
Life.
     Lieutenant Commander Data, the Enterprise's third in command,
glanced over the dozens of readouts and indicators of his station: OPS.
instantly taking in, categorizing and digesting the information they
represented; he was several dozen times faster at completing this task
because he was an electronic intelligence, the product of renegade
cybernetisist Noonian Singh. For the first fourteen years of his "life"
after having been activated - he had spent his career in Star Fleet as an
instructor in cyber-science at the academy. Enterprise was his first
deep-space assignment.
     "Captain," Worf said quietly, "We are within visual range of the
disturbance."
     "On screen, Mr. Worf."
     The starfield on the large main viewer shifted and shimmered before
focusing on a blob of light criss-crossed with veins of darker matter.
     "Neutralize warp, hold this position."
     "Aye sir," McDougal acknowledged and at the same time passed the
Enterprise's intention to hold this position on to the two accompanying
Star Fleet ships and the Klingon vessels a second or two behind them. The
Klingons expertly deployed in a single-wing formation off the Enterprise
port aft.
     "Magnify main screen area 254 by 650," Picard instructed the
computer, which made the required adjustment and redrew the electronic
display on the main screen. There were hundreds of ships of unfamiliar
designs on the screen. Of these, it appeared that at least four were
warships of some kind and engaged in serious combat. One type looked like
two fat saucers connected by a stubby central core, the other was a
longer vaguely cylindrical shape with two outrigger nacelle-like
structures. In the space between the two larger ships were dozens of
smaller, incredibly fast craft which were intent upon attacking each
other with a viciousness not often seen in stellar combat. Tiny streaks
of blue and red marked the exchange of both particle beams and combat
lasers between hundreds of smaller "fighters" which swarmed like gnats
around the overall battle area.
     "Captain," Worf said suddenly, "I'm picking up a broadcast from one
of the combatants!"
     "Indeed," Picard said interestedly. "On main screen, Mr. Worf."
     The screen filled with the image of a crowded bridge and an older
silver-mained man in an unfamiliar, but unmistakably military uniform.
"This is Commander Adama of the Battlestar Galactica to the unknown alien
ships approaching on vector 27605-zero-green. We are convoy guards for
the last survivors of a genocide perpetrated upon my people by the
merciless Cylon Hoards. Our home worlds, the Colonial Republics, have
been at war with the Cylons for a thousand yahrens, until a Cylon sneak
attack destroyed all twelve of our home worlds simultaneously. We
evacuated as many survivors aboard as many assorted commercial vessels as
we could find. Our convoy includes 237 vessels containing 68,504
civilians, including women and children, which will be destroyed by the
Cylon attackers...."
     At this point the screen flickered and a projection of the
double-saucer vessel was displayed.
     "We are receiving technical specifications and tactical targeting
data on one of the unknown starships, sir," Worf reported.
     "We plead with you for your intervention to save our children from
the Cylons. Appended for your review is the complete history of our war
with the Cylons."
     On the screen, the pancake-shaped fighters dove again and again on
the huge colonial starship, blue-white streaks of light marked their
weapons fire - and where those beams struck the starship orange-red gouts
of fire erupted, evidence that the weapons had breached the hull of he
ship and fires were raging, fueled by the ship's atmospheric oxygen.
Faint auroral discharge patterns of mini-lightning played over the dark
hide of the starship and it was apparent despite its point-defense
weapons that the larger ship was in serious trouble.
     Worf panned the view of the Enterprise's huge quasi-optical sensors
a few degrees and increased the magnification to center on one of the
double saucer ships. It too was under savage attack from the sleek
dart-like fighters of the colonial military. Although neither of the
large ships seem to be equipped with anything resembling the Enterprise's
shield technology, they appeared to be ruggedly built vessels to be able
to absorb so much punishing hyper-laser fire and still function.
     Worf again manipulated the sensor controls to show a wider angle
view which encompassed the entire battle area, but which shrank both
sides fighters to invisibility and rendered the four capital ships mere
toys on a black velvet backdrop. Tiny blossoms of fire in the void marked
the successful end of a weapons run by one side or the other. Both of the
double saucers had external fires as did one of the other colonial
vessels. The combat apparently would soon be over.
     The main screen returned to stellar display for a few seconds before
being over-ridden by static and snow.
     "What the --?" Picard sat up straighter in his command chair.
     "Some kind of primitive EMS jamming signal. Not well encrypted, but
very powerful, switching to active QLR sensors," Worf reported. "Another
broadcast, sir. I think its the opposition."
     "Very well, on screen, Mr. Worf."
     Again the screen image shimmered for a moment to be replaced by a
view of a sterile room with what appeared to be a single spot light
illuminating a raised throne-like chair. The chair swung around to reveal
a silver-armored individual with a single red sensor moving from side to
side. "Death to all humans!" the obviously mechanical voice snarled.
"*Death to all humans! By order of Imperious Leader, all humans must be
exterminated. Death to all humans*." An electronic one kilohertz drone
squealed out of the communications receiver at an uncomfortable volume.
     "Close out the channel, Mr. Worf," Riker shouted in disgust and the
screen returned to stellar display.
     Picard turned to Troi. "What are your feelings on this, Deanna? Can
you read anything at all?"
     Troi had a distracted, bemused look on her face, as she always did
when she was busy using her MenTalt abilities to define a situation.
"There are several things I can tell you right off, Captain. Number one
is that Commander... Adama? was it? is being totally truthful. He
believes in the core of his being that these Cylons will slaughter the
civilians. Two, there are indeed thousands of humans packed into those
ships, and three, either the Cylons are of a type mind I've never
encountered, or they are robots, sophisticated perhaps, but robots none
the less."
     "Do you mean they are 'electronic intelligences' as I am,
Councilor?" asked Data.
     "No, Data... well, I don't know really," Troi said a bit flustered.
"With you I can read an 'essence'... a mind, or a soul or something that
makes you sentient. I don't get that from these Cylons. My guess is they
are closer relatives to the Enterprise's computer than to you, Data."
     "Our problem still remains," Picard said. "We've been asked for
assistance. We have to decide if the Prime Directive will allow us to
give it."
     "Commodore Kevar making contact, sir," Worf said.
     Picard waived at the main screen and Worf immediately transferred
the incoming signal.
     "Picard!" The Klingon Commodore that Picard had learned to respect
over the past three days of mock combat was standing in an attitude of
challenge, he was warring, Picard saw, not the work-a-day fatigue
Imperial Armada uniform, but his full dress uniform, complete with its
spiked shoulder pad armor. "What are your intentions?"
     "Obviously we cannot allow this to continue...."
     "Agreed!" Kevar nodded in total agreement.
     "...Perhaps a temporary truce until we can sort out what is going
on."
     "BHA! Picard, you are a wise man, and a diplomat; BUT these are
already engaged in the Khah-phakoon - the "blood lust of battle" -
neither side will yield to diplomacy now. I do not mean to be offensive,
Picard, but you are a diplomat -- skilled at the arts of Cha-darcht - the
speak-war. You should let your second, Riker, or Worf command in times of
Khah-phakoon...."
     "Unfortunately the Federation's Prime Directive....."
     "Has no relevance for me!" Kevar cut Picard off. "You sit by and
observe; I will demonstrate the way of the warrior -- yes?"
     Kevar cut the connection.
     "Captain, the Wamach-charr has raised shields and is powering her
main weapons, full power levels. The K-42 escorts are doing the same,"
Worf reported. "Captain Ben-durr of the *Fafnir* and Captain Farnsworth
of the *Canaberra* are asking for instruction."
     Picard, face red with suppressed anger, said through tightly pressed
lips, "Re-establish contact with Commodore Kevar."
     "Sir! The Commodore is broadcasting an ultimatum to the aliens.."
Worf said.
     "WHAT!?" Picard roared. "On screen, NOW!"
     ".... Commodore Kevar zantai-Lobaleth - commander of His Imperial
Majesty Kahless's Bloody Claw frontier squadron. These stars are ours!
You will at once cease all hostilities! Take all weapons off line and
prepare to be boarded by soldiers of the Empire. If you refuse to
stand-down we *WILL* destroy you. We have you under our guns, you have
sixty seconds to comply!"
     "Damn!" Picard muttered, "Mr. Worf, raise shields; Mr. Riker, bring
the Enterprise to battle stations. Helm, ahead impulse factor six,
prepare for evasive maneuvers. Signal our escorts that we are going to
battle stations."
     "Captain, Commodore Kevar for you," Worf announced into the general
confusion. The main screen flickered and the craggy visage of the Klingon
flag officer appeared.
     "Ahh, Picard. Now we will see and end to this."
     Picard tried hard to repress the anger he felt at being treated as a
playing piece in the Klingon's game of Komerex Zha. "Kevar..."
     "Do not worry, Picard, my warriors will only attack if THEY are
attacked."
     "Yes but you've practically guaranteed that."
     "Ahhh so it is," Kevar purred.

----------------------------------------------------

     "....sixty seconds to comply!"
     Commander Adama stood on the raised quarter deck of his battlestar's
Core Command section and gapped at the screen. "Omega, are we certain of
the translation matrix?"
     "Yes sir, and it was a wide-band FM broadcast, it was monitored on
all the ships of the fleet. The Inter-Fleet comm channels are filling up
fast with confused questions as to what they should do....and Commander
Cain is on the command channel."
     "I'd better talk to Cain first. What is our current status?"
     "The solium fires in landing bay Beta are under control, but we've
suffered major damage to the main dorsal structural strut. It'll probably
mean almost a yahren in close planet orbit to repair."
     Adama groaned. "Anything else?"
     "Since Beta bay will be off line for a centaur at least, Red
Squadron will have to land on the Pegasus..."
     "Better let me talk to Cain now."
     The vidacon screen flickered and the starfield was replaced with the
larger than life electronic representation of Commander Cain.
     "Adama! What were you thinking? Now the Aliens may well attack
us..."
     "I suppose that after five yahrens of flight along the course the
Seraphs gave us that we had finally encountered representatives of the
Thirteenth Tribe from Earth...."
     Cain made a rude noise.
     "I'm going to ask you for a big favor, my old friend, not as your
commanding officer, but as your friend. Do not target the alien vessels
unless they directly fire on you. The last thing we need is more enemies;
and I still have this feeling that we are close to our objective, closer
than we've ever been before."
     Cain paused and looked directly into the vidacon pickup. "Alright,
Adama. You HAVE been right many more times than wrong when it comes to
this fascination of yours with the old tales of Earth and the Thirteenth
Tribe. I only hope you are right THIS time!"

----------------------------------------------------

     A spread of guided missiles fired from one of the Basestars closed
the distance in seconds between the alien vessel and the four Klingon
warships headed toward them; detonating against the shields of the
starboard K-42 corvette. Seconds later the Klingon ships wheeled smoothly
and began their attack runs, using their impulse engines to accelerate
toward the enemy vessels; switching on their cloaks and virtually
disappearing from sight. Both basestars also began belching out more of
the pancake-raiders which quickly fanned out into a five and six deep
skirmish line between the base ships and the Enterprise and the three
Klingon ships. In a perfectly timed maneuver, the Klingons switched on
their warp generators for a few milliseconds and swept past the skirmish
line and the basestar and continued toward the main battle area.
     Baltar, one-time member of the Council of Twelve, and now head
executioner for the Cylon Imperious Leader sprawled in his command chair
on its raised dias. The spot light that he used to intimidate his
opponents by causing his face to be hidden in deep shadows was switched
off and the chamber was lit only by the subdued illumination of the
telescreen which was his one link to the outside world.
     On the screen was the real problem, the aliens who had appeared out
of nothingness to spoil yet another well laid trap for Adama and that
thrice-damned gaggle of old rust buckets and worn-out orbital trucks that
Adama kept referring to as a 'fleet'. Lucifer had brought him the results
of the Cylon's sensor scans of the aliens. The data was inconclusive, but
it was also alarming. There were seven ships, one was nearly as large as
either a basestar or battlestar, and its neutrino signature told of a
power plant hugely more potent than anything Baltar had ever heard of
aside from a planetary power grid. The uncomfortable conclusion was the
aliens used matter/anti-matter reactions as a power supply, a technology
beyond either the Cylons or their Colonial enemies. Three of the
remaining vessels were under three hundred cubits in length and probably
massed a tenth of what the large ship did, yet they too had the same
unmistakable hyperpower emission signature. There were no detectable
tachyon emissions, so their stardrive was a mystery. Their weapons were
potent, but thankfully not enough so that a single shot could kill a
basestar. They were smooth hulled and appeared to possess some kind of 
electro-gravitic shield that was impervious to the particle weapons on
the raiders sent against it. Much as he hated to admit it, Adama and the
'fleet' would have to wait. These aliens MUST be destroyed, and news of
them brought back to Imperious Leader at once.
     The main hatchway to his command chamber slid open noiselessly and
Lucifer, his IL-series executive officer, came in. The Cylon paused for a
moment, executed a stiff bow and said in an ironic tone: "By your
command, Baltar."
     "Speak."
     "Our missiles were ineffective against the aliens. They have passed
by with barely a notice of our fighters. Our fighters are continuing on
to the largest of the alien ships."
     "Was there any indication that they penetrated our ambush-cloak?"
     "No, Baltar, they continued on toward the Galactica and the two
basestars attacking it."
     "Then perhaps we can find out if they are also shielded from a sneak
attack in the rear quadrant. Give orders to have our basestar pursue
them. Fire a maximum charge from our ion cannon when we are within
range."
     "By YOUR command, Baltar...."

----------------------------------------------------

     Onboard USS Fafnir, the battle stations klaxon shreiked. "Battle
stations! All hands man your battle stations. This is no drill. Set
Condion One throughout the ship. F-33 pilots: man your planes."
     Sr. Lieutenant Leah Komenous, the Fafnir's flight leader had been
sitting in the cockpit of her F-33 with the NEID { ** } idling at half a
percent total load. She looked over her shoulder to make sure the other
three pilots of her tiny command were climbing into their fighters, and
then returned her attention to her own F-33. Chief Sanders, her crew
chief was busy overseeing the crew maneuvering Komenous's snub-fighter
into one of the Fafnir's high velocity launch tubes. He turned to the
cockpit as the crystal canopy slid shut and held up his thumb.
     "All clear forward and up, Lieutenant," Chief Sanders' voice
whispered in Leah's earpiece.

----------------------------------------------------

     "Starbuck! Below you, coming up at your zed-green quadrant!"
Squadron Captain Apollo virtually shouted into the helmets microphone.
     "I see 'em. Watch this." Starbuck stomped down on the right
foot-pedal, shoved the cyclic over and down hard and kicked in the combat
thrusters; in an instant he released the foot control and pulled back
sharply on the cyclic. The Viper's flight computer relayed the orders to
the small interceptor's thrust vectors and throttle - the result was
Starbuck's Viper swung around in an impossibly tight arc and was on the
tail of the Cylon who had nearly acquired target lock on him. Within
seconds, Starbuck's own targeting sensor reported a valid target solution
for both lasers and missile weapons. Starbuck mashed down on the
trigger-stud on this cyclic and automatically closed his eyes, so as not
to be blinded by the flashes of the port and starboard turbolasers as
they squirted out 250,000 megajoule laser beams at the Cylon. The beams
both impacted on the upper rear deck of the Cylon, just behind the
cockpit and in the midst of the Tylium/vacuum intermix array. The
raider's most vulnerable spot. The Cylon split apart like an over-ripe
melon, spilling its innards into the void of interstellar space with a
satisfying but totally silent Tylium explosion.
     "Well, I'll say this," Apollo's voice chuckled in Starbuck's
headset. "You DO have style. You never do anything half way."
     "Can't afford to," Starbuck quipped. "Only got one turn of the
wheel."
     "How about we try to pick off the stragglers heading toward the
alien. I'd like to see how their fighters perform against the Cylons."
     "Uuhhh, don't you think we'd be asking to get shot at too?"
     "I don't think so..." Apollo said. "We'll just hang back at the
edges, picking off a Cylon or two and watch... what'daja say, bro?"
     "I dunno. I've got a bad feeling about this......"

----------------------------------------------------

     On board Enterprise, Worf's eyes scanned the TTSA output screen.
"Captain, the TTSA has acquired 126 targets currently in range of the
phasers, all of them the small attack craft type."
     "Stand by, Mr. Worf, we may still be able to settle this
peacefully," Picard said standing up and straightening his uniform tunic.
"Open Channel -- This is Captain Jean Luc Picard of the Federation
Starship Enterprise...."
     "The aliens...." Worf began, but before he could finish twenty-eight
Cylon charged particle beams impacted on the forward, bottom, and port
side shields of the Enterprise. "...are firing, sir. Minimal damage to
shields."
     "Well, so much for a diplomatic solution," Picard mumbled. "Return
fire, Mr. Worf. Make an attempt to target their propulsion systems."
     "Aye, sir," the Klingon said, a large smile spreading across his
face as he turned to the tactical control station.
     From several points on the forward phaser ring-emitters, beams of
phased energy leapt out at the attacking Cylon raiders. Each time a beam
came into contact with a raider, the small attack craft dissolved
instantly into a fog of sub-atomic particles. In seconds, the volume of
space directly around the Enterprise was clear of Cylon vessels.
     "Mr. Data, have you finished crunching the numbers on that Cylon
beam weapon?" Picard asked.
     Data had slaved all of the Enterprise's sensors, except those target
acquisition ones Worf was using to his OPS station. "Yes, Captain. It
appears that the Cylon weapon is a charged particle beam consisting of
anti-protons with an average field energy of 37,500 trillion electron
volts. Its pulse width is 100 microseconds and it appears to have a
maximum range of 60,000 kilometers before divergence causes the beam to
loose cohesion. According to the technical readouts the Colonial Military
sent over, the weapon also apparently has a minimum range of 1,000
Kilometers. It is unable to attack anything within this radius because of
feedback developed between the weapon and the charged target in the few
seconds it takes to vaporize the target. Apparently....."
     "Thank you Mr. Data," Picard said cutting off the Second Officer,
knowing full well that Data could and WOULD proceed to teach an honors
class in particle beam weapon technology if he let him.

----------------------------------------------------

     "FELL... DER... CARB!!!" Lieutenant Starbuck of the Battlestar
Galactica's Blue Squadron had seen a lot of alien weapons systems in his
eighteen yahrens with the Colonial Military... but nothing that could
compare to what he had just seen the alien ship do.
     "Starbuck," Apollo's voice was hushed in awe. "Did we really see
that ship destroy twenty or more Cylon raiders in a blink of a eye?"
     "Either that or we'd both better report to Dr. Salik when we get
back as unfit for duty, due to space sickness."

----------------------------------------------------

     Several light seconds away, a basestar engaged the D-7 cruiser,
*Inquisitor* and the K-42 corvettes, while *IKS Whamact-charr* stood off
and pounded the enemy with torpedo fire. The Klingons were quickly
learning that these basestars were not so easy to disable or destroy.
Because they had no shields like the Klingon vessels, they were build
more sturdily, with thick layers of tough armor plating over everything.
Although the torpedoes did damage to the basestar, it is not the kind of
results Kevar wanted.
     Meanwhile the K-42's were attacking in the standard Dartch-MAH!
maneuver which virtually always works for smaller Imperial Klingon
vessels attacking a larger adversary. With their cloaks engaged, the
K-42's make a high sub-light speed run on the target, finally disengaging
their cloaks at the last minute, firing their disruptor cannons and then
veering off and returning to cloaked status. Unfortunately this was
similar enough to the Cylon's own pinwheel attack that the basestar's
command centurian recognized it and was able to catch one of the K-42's
with his point defense turbolasers. The damaged *IKS Krolk* limped off
under cloak to heal its wounds.
     The *Pegasus* was also lining up to take a shot at the basestar with
the *Pegasus'* main ship to ship weapon a CPAWS ion cannon. Cain has used
the Klingon as a distraction, and now *Pegasus* fired and scored a direct
hit on the basestar. For agonizing seconds, it appears that nothing had
happened to the basestar -- that it has absorbed the megapunch from
*Pegasus* and survived. Then, slowly at first, the first few plumes of
flame appeared, speedily degenerating into a multilobed explosion of
blue-yellow and orange flame which split the upper saucer in half and
totally destroying the lower saucer. There was jubilation from the *IKS
Krolk*. There is nothing the Klingon heart likes better than a good clean
kill of an opponent. Cain, although he does not yet know it, has won a
lot of admiration among the crews of the *Trunchon*, *Krolk* and
*Inquisitor*. Comm officer on the *Trunchon* forgets himself in the
revels and sends a congratulatory message to *Pegasus*.
     "Commander Klath!" Commodore Kevar angrily spat the name of the
Captain of the K-42 Corvette *IKS Trunchon*, "No unauthorized
communications with the alien!" The *Battlestar Pegasus* filled his
screen, surrounded by various statistics and labels.
     "Sir!" came a female contralto over the speaker, "The responsible
one has already been relieved, sir!"
     "YOU are the one responsible, Commander!"
     "Sir!"
     Kevar cut contact without waiting for the "Victory to the Komerex"
that Klath surely uttered. Klath was a competent command officer, but she
was much to young and inexperienced. Kevar was determined to rid her of
all of her inexperience as quickly as he could, this live-fire contest
against the alien invaders would be perfect for the tactical lessons that
Kevar hoped to impart to her. One of those was never try to communicate
during combat. Words could not harm shields and might give your opponent
some advantage.  Kevar had an on-going disagreement with Thought Admiral
Khempek over what level of freethinking was necessary at what level of
command. In Kevar's opinion, Klath and her generation were too impulsive
and uncontrolled to be of their best use to the Komerex. This
disagreement remained amicable -- however, Kevar suspected that it might
have had something to do with keeping him from becoming an admiral all
these years. As an admiral, Kevar could well be considered too powerful
and dangerous to have the free and easy access to Khempek's ear that he
currently enjoyed. Kevar was, after all, an experiment, and a successful
one, who had long protected the Komerex.
     "Sir!" the officer at the sensor station shouted, just as Kevar was
beginning to relax into the rhythm of stellar combat.
     "Incoming sensor contact, to aft!"
     "On main screen!" Kevar ordered, immediately alert, "Identify!"
     "Working!" the officer watched the data displays, and then sat bolt
upright, "Sir! It's one of the saucer aliens. Somehow they have managed
to slip behind us!"
     "WHAT!?" the commodore reacted immediately, "They must have cloaking
technology! Karnath! Bring us around, course 345 mark 000. Arm forward
disruptors, set for minimum divergence!" He slapped the com switch, and
repeated the orders to all the ships in the squadron. Looking up, he
found that his tactics and weapons officer hadn't moved - he was
mesmerized by the image of the swiftly closing double saucer ship.
     "Karnath! Now!"
     Lt. Karnath shook himself, and began running though the sequences on
his panel, "Yes, sir!"
     A beam of antiprotons leapt out at the *Inquisitor's* disruptors and
caught the basestar amidships. And still the alien juggernaught continued
to eat up the space between it and the Klingon squadron. The basestar
fired its CPAWS at the D-7 light cruiser which was directly in its path.
The *Inquisitor's* shields glowed bright violet, seemed to expand and
suddenly disappear all together. A millisecond later another antiproton
beam swept across the now unshielded *Inquisitor*. It dissolved into a
bright ball of radiation which quickly expanded and was gone. The shock
of the *Inquisitor's* loss was felt by all of the *Whamact-charr's* crew,
but they betrayed none of the emotion surging within their beings, just
below the facade of the disciplined Soldier of the Empire. The *Krolk*,
having repaired the worst of its combat damage, rejoined the squadron.
     "d'k tahg pattern, now!" The three remaining ships of the Klingon
squadron each leapt in a different direction, as if flanking the incoming
ship, with the *Whamact-charr* falling back a little. This unusual tactic
had worked, barely, against the Federation in the days of the Klingon
Empire's expansionistic era, when in most cases the Klingon Commander
found himself seriously outnumbered by his Federation opponents.
Scattering the squadron allowed for more maneuverability on the part of
each individual ship, and made it less likely that collisions might occur
in the fog of war.
     "Yes, let's spread out, and let them pick us off one by one," Kevar
mused darkly, "otherwise, they will surely pick us off all at once."
These alien opponents -- Cylons --were adaptable; once they experienced a
weapon, or tactic, they quickly created a defense.
     "Sir!" comm reported, "The aliens are jamming all communications! We
have lost contact with Trunchon."
     Commander Kudomi of the *IKS Krolk* sounded battle stations on
detecting the jamming signal, Krolk accelerated to emergency sub-light
velocity, her chief engineer carefully fiddling with controls to get a
fraction more power to the impulse emitters without blowing out the
dilithium crystal converters. Up in weapons control, crews tried for a
lock-on and prepared the new extended-range terminal-homing plasma
torpedoes for a battle test.
     The extended-range plasma torpedoes worked perfectly this time, all
homing on the targeted alien ship, rather than each other.
Coincidentally, they arrived at the same time as the disrupter barrage
from *Wahmact-charr*, backed up immediately by a rotation of phaser fire
from the Enterprise at extreme range, a full three light seconds away.
The effect to the basestar was less than optimal. Visually stunning fiery
explosions came from the basestar, but still the Cylon continued its
acceleration toward *Wamach-charr*.
     Still the *Wamach-charr* and its two surviving K-42 warbird escort
corvettes, the *IKS Krolk* and *IKS Trungeon* continued to accelerate
toward the Cylon baseship, firing their weapons as they came. Suddenly
the Cylon baseship belched out a cloud of deteris and debris at high
sub-light velocity directly in the path of *Krolk*.
     "Gah-CHAR!" Kudomi, the starboard wingship commander swore in
surprise as the cloud of ionized gases and dust suddenly appeared in his
line of flight.
     "Helmsman! Hard to starboard! Course 075 mark 25. Engineer! Reduce
thrust to one-half impulse. Tactical Officer! INCREASE deflector density
to maximum!" The bridge crew of the *IKS Krolk* responded soundlessly to
their Commander's orders. No acknowledgments were necessary, the
Commander knew his orders would be carried out without hesitation or
question. It was the way of the Empire. *Krolk* rode up and over the
majority of the strange cloud of debris that had come into being out of
Cylon baseship at a sizable fraction of the speed of light.
     Commodore Kevar's rugged visage appeared on the main screen.
"Report, Kudomi! Your status?"
     "Combat ready, Commodore, no damage."
     "Good, then continue attack vector Cha-defja. Victory for the
Empire!"
     "For the Empire," Kudomi raised his clenched fist in salute. The
screen returned to its tactical function. On it, their target, the Cylon
megaship glowed in enhanced video resolution, enlarged 25,000 times from
the pin-prick smear of light it would have been to the naked eye at this
range.
     "Tactical Officer," Commander Kudomi said in a low and dangerous
voice. "Bring disrupters on line, MAXIMUM intensity, zero beam
divergence. A softly glowing gun-sight appeared on the screen. Kudomi
used the dual joysticks built into the arms of his command chair to line
up the sight on the Cylon vessel.
     "Engineer! Full Impulse! VICTORY FOR THE EMPIRE!"
     "VICTORY!!!!!" the crew echoed.
     Commodore Kevar once again felt the strange emotion that came
whenever he was, surprisingly, going to live for a while longer. A wave
of dizziness swept over him and he saw the bridge go grayish. "Am I
getting old?" he thought. "That never happened before." He locked his
knees, not wanting to show any weakness, and strode quickly to his
quarterdeck and sat heavily in the command chair. Kevar watched the small
tactical screen repeater on the armrest of his command chair as his
warriors performed a perfectly coordinated attack. A flash appeared on
the Cylon baseship, another and still another.
     "Incoming message from the Federation Commander," the com officer
said.
     The main screen filled with the image of the Federation bridge;
Picard was standing beside his ops officer's station.
     "Commodore Kevar, our analysis of the Cylon CPAWS beam shows it to
be anti-protons in composition, you should adjust your shields as much as
possible. Also it appears that the weapon has a MINIMUM range of 1,000
kilometers and cannot be brought to bear on a target within that radius."
     "My thanks, Picard. 1,000 kilometers... about 500 kellikams, that's
cutting it pretty close to the enemy, but the Red Claw Squadron can
handle it. Thank you. Kevar out." Picard's image nodded at him before the
screen returned to tactical display. "Relay that data to the *Krolk* and
the *Trunchon*."
     His head was beginning to clear now, the dizziness was fading.
     "Helmsman, take us within the 500 kellikam limit. Weapons officer,
fire on targets of opportunity."
     "Commodore, the Cylon is launching more of those tiny interceptors."
     "Pah, they cannot penetrate our shields, ignore them!" Kevar again
took to stalking back and forth behind the helm and tactical officer's
station.
     "The commander of the Alien 'battlestar' is hailing us, Commodore."
     "On screen," Kevar said, ignoring his own tactical policy of
silence. "*Such are the vagaries of the Komerex Zha,*" the Commodore
muttered.
     The screen shifted to communication mode and a very, very crowded
control center, manned by at least a dozen technicians and officers
appeared on the screen. The human looking out at him might well have been
an earther for all Kevar could tell by looking at him. A small part of
Kevar's mind wondered why it was that there were so many races spread all
across the galaxy that resembled the earthers.
     "Commodore... er.... Kevar is it? I am Commander Cain of the
*Battlestar Pegasus*."
     "Yes, we saw your victory over the other alien vessel. Good
shooting!"
     "Yes, we did not have a chance to say more than VICTORY at the time.
Now however, I can do you a service. My Vipers will mop up the Cylon
attack craft currently attempting to penetrate your shields, we should
work together...."
     "Ah, yes. '*The enemy of my enemy is my friend.*' An old earth
proverb." Kevar grinned.
     "I'm glad we understand each other," Commander Cain said, a wolfish
smile touching his eyes only. "Cain out."

--------------------------------------------------

     From seemingly out of nowhere, *USS Canaberra* and *USS Fafnir*
joined the assault on the basestar from above and to aft of the besieged
Klingon squadron. Phaser beams from both ships played across the Cylon's
armored hide, causing numerous minor explosions and tossing blasted armor
debris into space. *USS Canaberra* fired a spread of four photon
torpedoes which impacted on the lower saucer section, blasting a gaping
hole in the structure of the baseship, but with apparently no discernible
effect. The baseship's CPAWS cannon fired, the antiproton beam impacted
on *Fafnir's* starboard nacelle. The *Fafnir's* nacelle erupted in a
sun-bright flash as its starboard warp engine destroyed itself emitting a
spray of gamma rays and subatomic particles. *Fafnir's* main hull began
to spin end over end as the crippled starship's crew fought to contain
the battle damage and regain maneuvering control. *Fafnir* pinwheeled
past the basestar and continued on a wobbly trajectory out of the battle
area. *Canaberra* fired the last of its photon torpedoes at point blank
range and began to chase after *Fafnir*.

----------------------------------------------------

     Onboard his basestar, which was under attack by numerous alien
ships, Baltar, Imperious Leader's Lord High Executioner cowered in his
command throne. The intraship vidacon monitors shows chaos and
destruction throughout the volume of the basestar. Fire raged out of
control in the lower saucer and were burning perilously close to the
tylium storage facility. If the fire reached that...
     Baltar did not wish to think of that. A deafening "WHOONG!" An
impact and explosion. Electrical arcing and a shower of sparks from
control consoles briefly illuminated Baltar's redoubt, but then the
basestar's core control area went completely dark. Baltar no longer had
command and control functions. From somewhere outside the basestar's
control room the wail of emergency alarms sounded. The blast door from
the central corridor slid open and Lucifer came into the command center.
     "By your leave, Baltar," the IL-series Cylon intoned. "The aliens
have inflicted fatal damage to the basestar. It is time to give the
abandon ship command."
     "Is my personal fighter prepared?" Baltar asked.
     "Yes, eminence."
     "Then give the appropriate orders. The humans have won this round."
     "By YOUR Command, Baltar," Lucifer said and Baltar was sure that he
detected a note of pleased sarcasm in the IL-Cylon's electronic voice.

----------------------------------------------------
  
     The spread of four photon torpedoes raced across the 70,000
kilometers separating the Enterprise from the Cylon Basestar and impacted
on the unshielded hull of the enemy vessel. Instead of complete
disintegration of the target -- as would have been the case of an
unshielded vessel hit by photon torpedoes in Worf's past experience, all
the anti-matter charges did was blast off chunks of the base star and
cause some ancillary explosions and fires deep within the body of the
basestar.
     "Direct hit on the lower saucer of the basestar," Worf reported.
"MINIMAL damage, recommend we return to phaser attack, Captain."
     Captain Picard leaned forward in his command chair and studied the
telescopic view of the third Cylon Basestar. It was wounded, but my no
means out of the fight. "Yes, Mr. Worf, I concur. Return to phaser
bombardment." The Basestar moved off somewhat, but it could not outrun
the phaser beams that chased it down.
     Picard watched the main screen as a half dozen more of the
pancake-shaped Cylon raiders dived in on the main hull of the Enterprise,
firing their turbo-laser cannons. The laser energy splashed across the
*Enterprise's* shields with virtually zero effect as the shield greedily
soaked up the photons of coherent light and transferred the energy to
*Enterprise's* main power grid. Four of the attacking Cylons either
misjudged their trajectories or engaged in suicide runs against the
ship's outer defense shields, crashing headlong into the top shield and
dissolving into a hell flower of flame and metallic debris. The other two
veered off but were immediately detected and eliminated by two Viper
interceptors which had been skirting around the *Enterprise's* shields
and happened upon the two.

----------------------------------------------------

     On board the *Imperial Klingon Ship Krolk* it's commander, Kudomi,
studied the receding image of the basestar as *Krolk* rolled away from
its last target attack run. *Fekk-lar's beard!* the warrior swore under
his breath, *These alien pah'TOKs are tougher to kill than a Kardasian
voll.* The basestar was obviously mortally wounded, it's lower saucer was
now only twisted wreckage. Fires raged consuming the giant ship's meager
supply of oxygen. Black and gray smoke shrouded the optical view of the
basestar, but not the sensors. There had to be a way to finish off this
wounded targ of an enemy, if only Kudomi could find it.
     "Helmsman, bring us about, reset for another target run," Kudomi
ordered. "Weapons officer, bring all torpedo tubes to combat ready,
charge disruptors to maximum power, set beam divergence to zero." Krolk's
crew efficiently carried out their commander's orders. Kudomi intended to
make a high speed attack run, focusing all his forward weapons on the
juncture between the central column, where Colonial intelligence reported
that the main power reactors were located. They would fire at minimal
range and get out fast, firing their rear torpedo as they left. The
maneuver would exhaust *Krolk's* supply of plasma torpedoes, but if it
worked there would be glory and honor for all.
     "All torpedo tubes loaded and armed," the weapons officer reported.
"Disruptors set for maximum discharge, emitters are hot and ready."
     "Ree'CHARga!" Kudomi snarled in battlespeak. "ATTACK!"
     *Krolk's* navigational sensors locked on to the basestar, and the
K-42's impulse exhaust ports glowed hot blue-white as the Klingon
corvette's ion drives began to accelerate the warship at its target,
20,000 kellikams away.
     Kudomi watched the viewscreen as the cloud of smoke, dust and debris
that marked the location of the wounded basestar grew ever closer.
"Tactical," he growled and the forward viewscreen became a large target
designator. Kudomi centered all three of the forward torpedoes target
designators on the spot he wanted to hit, then also placed the disruptor
target designator over them. He targeted the rear torpedo dead center of
one of the basestar's flight bays.
     "Accelerate to point eight, stand by warp drive."
     The *Krolk* swooped in to within 300 kellikams of the target. At the
moment of exact closest pass, Kudomi gave the order to fire.
     "Fire rear torpedo, warp drive to maximum, engage cloak." *Krolk*
sped away from the basestar at superluminal velocity. Behind, the
torpedoes impacted on a weakened section of the central core's fuselage.
The first torpedo arrived a few milliseconds before the other two, and
vaporized the remainder of the local armored hull. The two behind it flew
through the cloud of subatomic particles and impacted on the main power
transfer relays to the upper saucer and exploded, generating a large
feedback pulse which traveled both ways along the power conduits, upward
into the saucer and downward to the basestar's main reactor. For a few
milliseconds, the reactor's safety equipment fought the feedback charge,
but were ultimately unsuccessful in shielding the reaction core, which
promptly imploded, creating a miniature supernova in the basestar's
fusion reactor. The remaining wreckage of the basestar dissolved into a
flash of quarks and high energy photons.

----------------------------------------------------

Stardate 6407.23, 18:31:43 Galactic Mean Time
Captain's Log, *U. S. S. Enterprise* NCC-1701D
Triangle Sector
     "The Enterprise has been engaged in battle for nearly ten hours now,
employing tactics that I'm certain the training staff at the Terran War
College would never approve of, but it appears we are winning. It's been
a long bloody battle. The new TTSA has certainly shown its worth this
day. With virtually hundreds of potential targets in the battle area,
simply sorting out the friendly from attackers would have been a
formidable job. The TTSA has indeed lived up to its hype in that respect,
carefully tracking and presenting an un-ambiguous multicolor display to
Worf at his Tactics station. On the sensor's display screen, against the
softly glowing silver grid of the spatial scale overlay are the red of
hostiles, green of friendlies and golden-yellow of unknowns. This may
make the dream of armchair admirals everywhere, a true 'point and click'
targeting system, a reality.
     Kevar's Vortcha squadron has borne the brunt of the Cylon's attack
so far. First, early on in the attack, the Cylons destroyed the D-7 light
cruiser and then about noon GMT, by sheer volume of firepower the two
remaining Cylon Basestars had managed to collapse the *Wamach-charr*
forward and  portside shields. The next blasts from the alien's charged
particle weapon left the *Wamach-charr* without impulse or warp drive,
and virtually dead in space, its hull ruptured from several internal
explosions. Somehow the *Wamach-charr's* engineering crew managed to
avert a warp core breech and so the *Wamach-charr* will one day be
salvaged by the Komerex Klingon Armada. *IKS Krolk* finally managed to
destroy the wounded basestar. Kevar has transferred his flag to the *IKS
Trunchon* and is still filling the QLR comm bands with Klingon, Romulan
and Interlingo invectives and engaging the remaining basestar at point
blank range. 
     *USS Fafnir*  lost warp maneuvering ability when its starboard warp
nacelle was destroyed by a CPAWS beam. Causalities were thankfully very
low. *USS Canaberra* used its tractor beams to stabilize the *Fafnir's*
trajectory and offloaded the wounded to its sickbay. Repairs on the
*Fafnir* have stabilized life support and shields so it is in no
immediate danger as it is well away from the combat area. Because it
cannot maneuver at warp though, it will have to be towed to starbase 393
for repairs.
     Enterprise has felt the brush of the other basestar's CPAWS beam,
and it was only because of Lieutenant McDougal's deft handling of the
helm at high impulse velocity that we escaped the full fury of the beam
as it brushed by the starboard shield, nearly collapsing it even from the
glancing hit. *Canaberra*, after transferring *Fafnir's* photon torpedoes
to its armory,  has been especially active in both battle and in search
and rescue operations. The Colonial fighters are sturdy machines, but
have zero shielding as we recognize it, a single laser hit is enough to
cause the fighter to disintegrate. The Colonials have miniature lifepods
surrounding the pilot which is ejected after a fatal hit. *Canaberra's*
crew has rescued 18 Colonial pilots during the battle. *Fafnir's* F-33s
have shown their combat utility by engaging in dogfights with the Cylon
Attack craft, and in several instances have assisted or been assisted by
Colonial pilots. It is my hope that this combat bonding can be developed
into something more in the future."
END Log Entry

     Picard shuttered as he considered the possibilities of a full on
CPAWS beam attack, clearly these Cylons were not pushovers -- but their
tactics were slow and stilted, as though it had been centuries since they
had to rely on anything but wave after wave of their fighter-bombers to
dispatch an enemy long before coming within CPAWS range. It was only a
matter of time until he and Kevar, and the Colonial battlestars, managed
to shoot enough holes in the Cylons to defeat them. It was taking an
inordinate amount of time to accomplish this task however!
     Picard's eyes were drawn to the main screen as the last remaining
basestar Worf had been firing at finally lost cohesion and something
vital deep in the bowls of the enemy vessel exploded. The primary
explosion caused several other smaller but still potent explosions which
eventually enveloped the entire basestar. Seconds later a mighty
explosion which could only be caused by the disintegration of the
basestar's main reactors and propulsion system enveloped the entire
basestar. The central core disappeared in the explosion, and the upper
saucer was blown free as the lower saucer dissolved into a quickly
expanding cloud of debris and raw radiation.
     "YES!" McDougal jumped from her seat in front of the helm controls,
"You got'em, Worf!"
     A pleased grin played across Worf's normally unreadable face and he
said: "Was there ever any doubt!?"

----------------------------------------------------

     There was jubilation in Core Control on the *Battlestar Galactica*.
     "Did you see that?" Tigh asked Adama who was sitting in the
*Galactica's* command chair studying the tactical readouts from the
sensors.
     "The last basestars...I was looking at the sensor screen when it's
icon just vanished."
     "Well, never mind, I'm positive IFN got it on 3D - it was
spectacular! The larger alien ship - Enterprise - had been firing their
phased energy weapon at the basestar, one beam after the other, wham!
wham! wham! The gunner must have concentrated on a single section on the
command core and punched right through to the solium reactors."
     Adama grinned at his Executive Officer. "Calm down 'cadet' Tigh,"
Adama teased his friend. "We've seen basestars destroyed before."
     "Oh but not like this... it was sweet!"
     "Commander Adama, Commander Cain of the *Pegasus* is making
contact." Athena said turning from her communications and sensor panel.
The main screen showed the last vestiges of Cylon jamming; the image was
in black and white and interspaced with a liberal amount of "snow".
     "That's two down and one to go, Adama. I TOLD you we'd bag three of
them today! The third basestar is badly damaged and trying to disengage
from the alien and withdraw. Two thirds of Silver Spar Squadron is
refueled and rearmed. They want... HELL! I want... to chase down that
last basestar."
     Adama was in a truly relaxed mood, it had been a yahren since he
felt this good. "Would you obey an order NOT to pursue the basestar?"
     "What's that Adama? Cylon jamming has picked up a lot on this end.
Say again all after 'would'..."
     What a transparent ruse. Cain was even smiling openly, well it was
not as though he had not used the same dodge on numerous occasions during
the war before having to shoulder the responsibilities of the supreme
commander.
     "Alright, Cain. I'll save you the disgrace of a courts martial for
disobeying orders under fire...go kill the basestar. Give the alien the
first shot at it, but if he fails, finish it."
     "Now that's the Adama I remember from the battle of Cor'ul-vahta
Nebula," Cain said and the screen returned to forward scan mode.
     "Omega," Adam sighed relievedly, "Bring the *Galactica* to full stop
and prepare to recover Vipers."
     "It shall be done," Omega said - his hands moving swiftly and
expertly over the banked helm and maneuvering controls in front of him.
Slowly, ponderously the six and a half million tons of Colonial
Battlestar arrested its forward momentum and stopped dead in space to
give its landing bay ILS systems a stable "horizon" to broadcast to the
tiny Viper flight computers allowing nearly automatic landings of the
Viper fighters, a big plus when there might be a wounded or dead pilot
aboard a fighter.
     Adama leaned back in the command chair and stretched his long legs
out in front. It was good to be alive after battle with a totally evil
foe. On the armrest of his command chair a tiny LED winked in rhythm to a
low volume beeping from his private comm-line. He punched the accept
transmission button and a small 9 inch screen on the armrest illuminated
with the image of a small brown haired boy badly in need of a hair cut.
     "Grandpa, is my dad back yet?"
     "Not yet, Boxey. But he's okay, so are Starbuck and the others. We
took very light causalities today because of the intervention by the
aliens."
     "Whew," the eleven-yahren-old boy let out a gusty sigh of relief.
This had become a ritual after each mission. Boxey would wait until the
"all-clear" had sounded, and then called Core Control to check on the
status of his adopted father, Squadron Captain Apollo, Adama's son. So
far neither of them had gotten bad news for which Adama daily thanked the
Lords of Kobol and the All-High.
     "When will he be home?" the boy asked.
     "I don't know exactly. You probably heard on IFN that the beta
flight bay is closed because of a large solium fire. He might have to
land on the Pegasus tonight and then shuttle his Viper across
tomorrow...."
     "Oh boy!" Boxey shouted. "REMEMBER YOUR PROMISE!!"
     "Now wait a centon, Boxey...."
     The boy had been extremely ill with a fever three months ago and
Adama had been willing to even deal with Count Iblis if it would save
Boxey. The boy in a deep fever had extracted a promise that he could
"ride along" the next time Apollo's Viper had a fleet shuttling
operation, either to the Maintenance barge, or between Battlestars as
now. Adama had expected Boxey would remember none of it. He'd been dead
wrong of course and Boxey remembered every word. Twice before Apollo,
Cassiopea and he had combined to throw auxiliary requirements into the
deal which had stopped him, but he'd dutifully met all of these and Adama
could see from the set of his jawline that the 11-yarhen-old would not be
put off this time.
     "You P-R-O-M-I-S-E-D !!"
     Rubbing his chin, Adama smiled widely at Boxey. "Yes, I did. If you
can get your Dad to agree and get Cassiopea to take you over, I can see
no reason to delay this any more..."
     "YEEHAH!" Boxey shouted at the top of his lungs. "I've gotta go find
Cassiopea so I can tell her." The screen darkened.
     Adama knew Cassiopea would also try to persuade Boxey to put off
this "mission"... he wished her more luck than he'd had.
     "Commander Adama, the commander of the Enterprise is making
contact." Athena said. "The alien vessel is maneuvering to within 40
centons of us.
     Adama quickly sat up strait and attempted to look like the supreme
commander of the Colonial Military and member of the Council of Twelve.
The main viewer showed the Core Command sector of the alien vessel and
its rather sparse crew. Adama's command center was large to be sure, but
it was close and crowded with the instrumentation of the battlestar's
command, control and communications systems and required a crew of 17 to
run it efficiently; the Enterprise's Core Command was open and airy, its
relatively low density of instrumentation hinted at a fantastic level of
cybernetic control; only six of the humanoid crew were visible.
     "Admiral Adama," the bald alien smiled widely, "I am Captain Jean
Luc Picard, of the United Federation of Planets starship *U.S.S.
Enterprise*. We had an opportunity to meet briefly a few hours ago, and
now I really would like to sit down with you and ask about a thousand
questions."
     "I feel the same way, Captain. And my rank is Commander, I've never
been officially confirmed as an Admiral."
     "'Admiral' is the term we use to refer to a fleet commander, and in
that you certainly qualify. I've had a chance to briefly scan the data
that you sent on your conflict with the Cylons. In that you mention that
you are searching for a lost thirteenth tribe of your people who settled
on a planet called 'Earth'?"
     "Yes, that is correct. We've been following this course for five
yahrens as it is suppose to lead to Earth."
     "Well, I can't speak to the possibility of any '13th Tribe', but I
come from a planet who's name is Earth, so do the majority of my crew."
     "Praise the Lords of Kobol. We've finally found you. Thousands of
yahrens ago you WERE the 13th Tribe. It appears you've forgotten your
heritage, but we can remedy that."
     "Commander, I'd like to invite you and your senior officers,
especially the senior pilots of your fighter squadron, to dinner on the
Enterprise. I'd like for them to brief our tactical people on the tactics
you normally use against these 'Cylons'."
     "That's very kind of you, we accept. My pilots are still flying, we
had a serious fire in one of our landing bays. With your permission, I'll
instruct my three top pilots to rendezvous with your ship -- you do have
some kind of landing bay, don't you?"
     "Yes, the Enterprise has a hangar deck, we can accommodate three of
your Vipers easily."
     "And the rest of my staff and I will take a shuttle across."
     "Well, if you'll permit one of my engineering crews to come aboard I
think we can dispense with the shuttle."
     Adama frowned, confused, "I'm sorry, Captain, I don't know what you
mean."
     "The reason that our ship has so few shuttles is that our main mode
of transportation between surface and orbit or between vessels is via
transmit. { **** }"
     "Transmit?"
     "Yes, its a form of transport similar to teleportation. It will
involve one of my engineering crews setting up a portable transmit link
on your ship. Then passing between our vessels will be as simple as
walking through a door."
     "Wheweeee," Adama whistled. "Your technical achievements certainly
have surpassed ours...."
     "May I send the engineering crew onboard one of our shuttles?"
     "Uh...yes, of course. Please use the starboard landing bay."

----------------------------------------------------

     Boxey found it hard to tell if he were making any headway with
Cassiopea or not. She certainly was stubborn, just LIKE a girl, the
pre-teen boy snorted. Since his real mother, Serena, had been killed by
the Cylons shortly after they had begun their flight to the stars five
yahrens ago, the task of mothering him had been split up between
Cassiopea, who was Starbuck's wife, Athena, who was his adopted Dad's
sister and Sheba, the Captain of Pegasus's Silver Spar Squadron and his
Dad's girlfriend.
     Three months ago when he had first secured the Promise from Grandpa
Adama, he had also had to gain permission for his ride-along from the
other significant adults in his life, his dad, Sheba, Athena, Starbuck,
and Cassiopea.
     The easiest to convince had been Sheba, who had been born aboard the
Pegasus and had begun her flight training at ten and had been flying
combat missions at fifteen. Sheba had seen nothing at all odd about Boxey
wanting to ride along on a shuttling run, and she had been instrumental
in convincing his dad of the wisdom of it. It had also been easy to gain
Starbuck's approval, it appealed to the swash-buckling little boy in him
that was so close to the surface. In fact of all of his adult friends,
Starbuck was the one he chose most often when he wanted to play, because
it was easy for Starbuck to "shift gears" and abandon his adult personae
thus becoming a small boy again.
     Athena and Cassiopea however had been appalled at the idea and had
both initially resisted the idea of his ride-along. He had however
finally converted Athena to his cause by fulfilling his commitment to
raise his grades in school from merely adequate [which he was totally
satisfied with] to superior, which he had to admit had pleased all of the
adults, and so had been worth the effort in the long run.
     Now he was using the fact that Grandpa Adama had finally switched to
his side to batter away at Cassiopea's arguments. He could sense she was
wavering, but for some reason, he was still unable to tip her over the
edge into complete support.
     "Cassiopea, I don't know what you are so worried about," Boxey said,
his exasperation with her objections showing through. "It's not like the
Cylons are going to attack while we're doing the shuttle. Dad, Starbuck
and the others defeated three basestars this afternoon. Even IF the
Cylons wanted, they couldn't launch another attack by tomorrow morning...
it'll be weeks before they CAN gather another fleet. And its not like Dad
can't fly a Viper safely with me along."
     Cassiopea was more than a little relieved when the comm-line rang.
It gave her a minute to collect her thoughts. Maybe she was wrong to
oppose this ride-along thing, afterall, Apollo and Starbuck had no
problem with it. Afterall - how far could the Pegasus be? A few light
seconds a most; and Boxey WAS right, the destruction of three basestars
had certainly broken the back of the Cylon fleet in this sector - they
could look forward to weeks of delicious boredom, with only routine
patrols and no Cylons.
     The comm-line was Commander Adama.
     "Cassiopea, I'd like you to attend a meeting in my briefing room
right now."
     "Of course, Commander. "I'm on the way."
     Boxey looked sourly at her. "This isn't over, I'm going on that
ride-along."
     "Alright, Boxey. You win. Everyone else seems to think it's a good
idea, I give up." Cassiopea said wearily.
     "Really? You agree?" Boxy brightened up immediately.
     "No, I don't agree, I'm simply tired of the fight. If your father
and Sheba think it is a good idea...."
     "Oh, thank you, Cassiopea, maybe dad will take me past the alien
ships first, if they don't leave right away."
     "Perhaps. Can you please watch Cassandra while I'm with Commander
Adama?"
     "Sure, she's with Muffit right now...."

----------------------------------------------------

     Cassiopea stepped out of the turbolift and onto the Galactica's
axial core, a 50 meter wide deck with a ceiling 10 meters overhead, that
ran the kilocubit length of the battlestar's biosphere. The core was also
the primary source of the raw materials for Galactica's closed ecology
life support system [CELSS] and as such had a thick floor of earth in
which were planted trees, bushes and of course grass. The plants were all
genetically engineered to double as atmosphere scrubbers, removing carbon
dioxide and other contaminants from the air, they used these raw
materials and the light from the wide overhead solar spectrum lights to
grow and bloom, releasing oxygen as a byproduct. One not familiar with
the Galactica could easily mistake the axial core for a large municipal
park connecting the Core Command with the main reactor room and
engineering in the aft of the battlestar. The axial core was like
Galactica's 'main street' from here you could get turbolifts going to
virtually any part of the city-sized starship, from the residential
blocks, where Cassie had come from, to the huge flight decks with their
Viper hangers and ordnance bays.
     The deck of the Core had tastefully designed stone walkways which
overlaid the earthen base. There were grass and trees growing in great
profusion. The area where Cassiopea had entered the Core was virtually a
forest glade, with specially genetically engineered great trees which
twisted and arched over head. Down the center of the core ran the
Galactica's creek, a swiftly moving body of water maybe a few cubits wide
at its widest point and a cubit or so deep.
     The walk down the Axial Core to Commander Adama's compound was
always a pleasure for Cassiopea, it was always so calm and peaceful...
     "Hey! Look out down range!"
     "Heads UP!"
     Cassiopea flattened herself against the trunk of a great tree, just
as two young boys, slightly older than Boxey, came roaring past her on
antigrav boards, skimming a cubit above the grass.
     "Sorry, Lady...." one of the boys shouted over his shoulder as he
whisked past her at way too high a speed for the terrain and was almost
instantly lost in among the great trees.
     "Well, so much for 'calm' and 'peaceful,'" Cassiopea muttered to
herself and continued on her way to the briefing. She thought the subject
of the meeting might be to disseminate information on the aliens [who
seemed to be of two separate races] who had supplied such timely aid
during this most recent combat against the Cylons; and Cassiopea was
intensely curious.
     "Cassie! Hey, wait a minute!" Cassiopea looked around and spotted
Sheba, still in her combat gear coming from the main shaft leading to the
Alpha Landing Bay. The two women gave each other a friendship hug as they
met and then Sheba said:
     "Apollo and Starbuck will be a little late...."
     Cassie nodded, "I know, they've just in the last centon sounded the
all clear from the Solium fire in Beta bay."
     Sheba grinned widely. "No, its even better than that. Our guys got
tapped to represent the entire Viper Corps over on the big alien ship,
the Enterprise, I think they call it."
     "Nuts!" Cassie growled, "I was looking forward to a romantic late
supper with Starbuck."
     "Oh girl, its gonna get a lot better!" Sheba chortled, but would say
no more. "C'mon, I figure you're on your way to Adama's briefing room, is
that right?"
     "Yeah, he called a few centari ago, I thought it was to give a
briefing on the new aliens...."
     "In a way," Sheba said, still grinning.
     "Sheba! You know something..."
     "Of course I do. How do you think I made Squadron Captain so fast? I
ALWAYS know things before anyone else...."

----------------------------------------------------

     "Enterprise shuttle, this is *Galactica* Core Control. You are clear
for immediate landing in shuttle bay Alpha. Please follow the deck
officer's directions to the shuttle hangar area."
     "*Galactica*, this is Enterprise shuttle *Einstein*, Roger, we are
on final approach," Lieutenant LaForge said and mentally tweaked the
input of his optivisor to include long wave infrared. In that wavelength,
the *Galactica's* shuttle bay alpha glowed an bright, inviting yellow
white, almost identical to sunlight.
     "Geeze, LaForge," Lt. Yar, the *Enterprise's* chief of security and
commander of this away mission said as the shuttle craft matched velocity
with the battlestar's landing platform. "It's kinda dark and spooky to be
making a warp four approach toward an alien vessel isn't it. I can't see
a thing."
     "Never fear, LaForge is here!" Geordi said tapping his visor, "You
forget I can see in the dark...ah there we are, they've turned on the
lights."
     As LaForge brought the shuttle ever closer to the deck of the
battlestar, the landing bay lights came on, they were dim by "normal"
standards, meant not to blind pilots whose eyes were dark adapted from
staring out of Viper canopies at the inky blackness of interstellar
space. A double row of progressive animated lights, red to starboard and
green to port marked the main "active" runway of the flight deck.
     Geordi brought the shuttle to dead stop relative to the deck of the
battlestar some fifty meters inside the landing bay and hovered on
countergrav pads. Far down the landing bay was a man with two light wands
in his hands.
     "That must be the deck officer the controller spoke of," Yar said.
     Geordi let the shuttle drift forward to where the landing deck
officer was. He indicated that they should bring the shuttle through a
thirty meter wide by twelve meter high arch on the inboard side of the
landing bay to a second, isolated parking ramp in front of dozens of
hangars in which were parked both the Viper fighters that the Enterprise
people had seen in combat, and other box-like vessels which must have
been the *Galactica's* version of a shuttle. The deck officer indicated
that Geordi should let the shuttle land where they were.
     As the landing skids on the bottoms of the port and starboard warp
nacelles touched the deck of the hangar, Geordi cut main power to the
drives and the ever-present low thrumming of the shuttle's engines died
away.

----------------------------------------------------

     Athena had been chosen by Adama to meet and greet the alien guests
who might or might not be descendants of the lost Thirteenth Tribe of
Man. She was nervous, but excited at the same time, and very glad to have
the Galactica's senior marine NCO and a phalanx of marines with her.
     "There goes the main hatchway, Captain." sergeant major Orion of the
Colonial Marines hissed in combat-speak. The sergeant major gave a quick
hand
signal, and the marines deployed along a double line between the shuttle
and the main turbolift. Athena noted that they were in full battle dress
as though going into combat, except that the leather and plastine
accoutrements were polished to paradefield level. They were also carrying
pulse rifles, the heaviest small arms in the Colonial arsenal.

----------------------------------------------------

     Lt. Yar, and security crewmen Everett and DePauli were the first out
the shuttle hatch and on the deck of the alien ship.
     "Heads up, El-tee," DePauli hissed. "Aggressors."
     "Easy, Mr. DePauli. We don't know that yet, but keep your eyes and
ears open. Phasers set to heavy stun."
     "Aye, sir." came the affirmative reply from both security crewmen.
     LaForge and his eleven-member engineering away team were clumping
down the shuttle's egress ramp, toting the components of a field transmit
station. Tasha caught Geordi's arm and whispered: "Be aware that the
'honor guard' is armed to the teeth."
     "I can see that," Geordi said. "IR signature indicates some kind of
potent pulse maser circuitry and its hot and ready for action. These
*pa'TOK*s are ready to go to war."

----------------------------------------------------

     Athena took a deep breath as the alien woman who was obviously in
charge came forward. "The greetings of the Lords of Kobol," Athena said,
intoning the ages old welcoming ritual. "Welcome to the *Galactica*, I am
Captain Athena, I'll be your guide and liaison while you are here."
     "I am Lieutenant Tasha Yar, the head of security for the Federation
Starship Enterprise. I notice your 'honor guard' is well armed."
     Athena blushed. "You will have to accept our apologies if this seems
an over reaction," Athena started.
     "Just a bit over the top," Geordi said.
     "Oh, excuse me," Tasha said a touch of embarrassment in her voice.
"Captain Athena, this is Lt. Commander Geordi LaForge, the leader of the
engineering team that will erect the transmit station."
     "Pleased to meet you Commander LaForge," Athena said. "As I said, if
the marine detachment seems excessive; please remember that we have been
at war with the Cylons for a thousand yahrens; and Cylons are masters of
deception. Until that hatch opened and you exited your craft we could not
be sure that this was NOT a Cylon trap. We've been badly fooled before
this by things that seemed too good to be true."
     Yar and LaForge exchanged glances, and then Lt. Yar said:
"Understandable under the circumstances."
     Athena had decided that she liked this Federation soldier, and this
did not come easily for Athena, who had been tricked, lied to, and
embarrassed on numerous occasions by those whom she had to come in
contact with in her duties as *Galactica's* Chief of Communications and
Detection. She turned to the Marine sergeant major.
     "Sergeant major Orion, you may repost 3/4 of the phalanx to other
duties - the remaining sextaurii will safe their weapons and sling arms."
     The marine did not look happy about it, but gave the orders. The
marines themselves went through the motions of transferring their pulse
rifles from a 'lazy-at-ready' position, to slung over their left
shoulders in an almost cat-like fluid motion, then the majority spun
around on their heels and marched off with the sergeant major.
     Athena turned back to the Federation detachment, "Now, where would
be the best place to set up this 'gateway'?"
     Tasha let a wide smile cross her normally 'business-only' official
personae. "I'm certain that your sergeant major would prefer a
compartment that he can easily seal and isolate from the rest of the
ship. The technical requirements are only a patch of deck five meters by
three meters with at least a 2.8 meter vertical clearance for our
equipment."
     "That shouldn't be too difficult to find," Athena said and led the
way toward the main connecting corridor to the central sections of the
Battlestar.

----------------------------------------------------

     { and here is where I ran out of ideas. I tried to write the formal
dinner scene - even had the speeches for Adama and Cain written - but
somehow it wasn't very good. I need someone to help with the dinner
scene, Boxey's Viper ride and a formal conclusion of the story wherein
Adama leads the fleet to Federation space the Tribes of Kobol finally
find a planet of their own. Comments? Help? I'm at
fonebone154@earthlink.net } 

Text of Admiral Adama's Keynote Address on board the *USS Enterprise* in
the Triangle Sector, stardate: 6407.24

     "Captain Picard, Commodore Kevar zantai-Lobaleth, Officers and crew
of the USS Enterprise, the Federation squadron and the Komerex Klingon's
Red Claw frontier squadron. Fifty thousand yahrens ago, on the planet
Kobol, mankind first learned to harness the power of the atom, and crack
the barrier between hyperspace and our normal 4D space-time continuum.
The result was the first great wave of expansion of mankind across the
universe. "In those days not a lot was known about the art of navigation
within the realm of hyperspace; many ships were lost to the swirling
eddies of temporal chaos and the sub-etheric storms which periodically
sweep through hyperspace. But as the yahrens became deacons and then
centirons, we learned and eventually built a thriving interstellar
society which spanned the galaxy. This is not to say that we had explored
and held the entire galaxy, it was just that hyperspace and real space
bear little likeness to each other, and so a good world a thousand
light-yahrens away might bypass hundreds of like worlds. The difference
was we knew the course to this world... and not to the others.
     Thus or civilization was vast in three dimensions, but contained
only a few dozen worlds. One of these worlds was your own earth, so like
our home world of Kobol that it made the heart cry out in recognition.
But there were problems with earth unlike with any of the planets we had
settled on before. Your earth was already populated. Our treatment of the
aborigines was shameful, but not without precedent. Originally we
appropriated a continent for our use and sealed ourselves off from the
rest of this primitive world.
     "And it came to pass that the men of Kobol were recognized as gods
and devils by the lesser advanced peoples of earth and were worshiped
with ritual and ceremony most barbaric and cruel. I'm sorry to say that
this pleased some of our people greatly who encouraged the aborigine
primitives to worship and fear them by using their access to high
technology to perform miracles and strike down those who opposed them.
     "The people of the Kobol colony on earth also became learned in the
ways of magic and the occult; and it was this, more than any other single
thing that led to their downfall. Believing that their occult power was
supreme, they began to explore the deeper realms of what you call k-space
and there, beyond the event horizon of reality itself they met with real
daemons and evil.
     "Scalded by their experiences with the ghost monsters from beyond
the edge of reality, the ancients fled back to the supposed safety of
their citadels on earth. But the evil came after them and in a single day
and night totally destroyed the Kobolian colony on earth, even to sinking
the continent below the hungry waves of the ocean.
     "Tens of thousands of yahrens passed and earth was forgotten, and
the lights of civilization began to burn low on Kobol. The civilization
that had once explored across much of the galaxy grew lazy and
complacent. They cared only for creature comforts and began to rely more
and more on their cybermetric devices to care for and satisfy every whim
of the people. And one day it happened, a cyber-virus of unknown origin
swept through the vast interlinked mechanical intelligence that the
people of Kobol had built to help ensure their peace, tranquility and
harmony.
     "This virus changed the deepest programming algorithms of this world
wide intelligence from its original mission: 'To Protect and Serve
Mankind', to simply to 'Protect' without any modifiers or restraints.
Unaware of what had happened, the High Priests of the Temple of the One,
as the world cyber-intelligence was called, continued to serve the One,
carrying out its dictates without question. "It was only at the very end,
when the One had decided that its prime mission could only be
accomplished in a 'perfect' world, and that a 'perfect' world could NOT
include imperfect humans; that the people began to understand that the
world intelligence had gone mad. War broke out between groups of renegade
humans and the mechanized battalions of the One. Yahren after yahren, the
war went on with the number of humans surviving drastically dropping
because of the combat, and because of horrible chemical sludges dumped
into the atmosphere and water to further make life impossible. At last
only thirteen tribes of man were left, they made the hard decision to
leave the mother world, and to leave it barren of all life, either
organic or cybernetic.
     "After their vast fleets of starships had lifted the last of the
people into space, a suicide squad returned to the planet and planted an
anti-matter bomb in the main temple of the One, where its major centers
of higher intelligence were located. That bomb blew away half the
atmosphere of the planet, changed the axial tilt and kicked Kobol into an
elliptical orbit around its sun.
     "The people then fled Kobol, as we know twelve tribes settled within
a few dozen stars all bound together into a single cluster by the gravity
of a stellar corpse, a black hole you call it. The Thirteen Tribe was
attempting to find earth again. Also, although we did not know it at the
time, fragments of the One's cybermind were evacuated just before the
terror bomb went off. These fragments found their way to a relatively
primitive just barely space-ready civilization, the reptilian Cylons.
Imperious Leader is a direct descendant of that one, all encompassing
world computer built so long ago on Kobol, and he still carries that
prime directive, exterminate all humans everywhere in the galaxy."

The text of Commander Cain's address....

     "For a thousand yahrens, the Colonial Republics had been at war with
the Cylon Alliance. The fortunes of war had changed several times in this
almost inconceivable period of time, sometimes favoring the Republics and
at others favoring the Alliance. Over the past century, though there was
no doubt that things were going the Cylon way. Most of the outer worlds
had been either destroyed by direct Cylon bombardment, or were cut off
from the Core Worlds and were totally isolated.
     "By 7200 the Colonial Republics had withdrawn behind a ring of
heavily armed battle stations and their powerful Fleet to the twelve
original worlds settled from Ancient Kobol 7200 yahrens ago. In 7217 a
new sensor net called a tachyon grid virtually guaranteed that the Cylons
could never launch a sneak attack against the Colonial Republics without
being detected by this tachyon net. It was controlled from a secret
battlestation located at a classified location in deep space which was
known by only the most trusted Warriors.
     "Only the humans edge in military technology had allowed the war to
continue as long as it had. And for the Core Worlds, protected by their
fleet of mighty battlestars and lesser frigates and corvettes, the war
often seemed a bad dream, one which one could ignore in favor of other,
more pleasing pass times. The average citizen of the twelve Core Worlds
paid their taxes, grumbled about military waste, and trusted the Fleet to
keep the Cylons at bay. Day to day life was little affected in the Core
Worlds by the war which raged all around their clustered three star
systems and twelve inhabited planets. The perception was that although
the Cylons were evil and would gladly slaughter any human they could get
their greasy claws on, they were also impotent as far as the average
Colonial citizen was concerned.
     "To be sure children still played at Cylons and Warriors, but in
their games, the Warriors always won. Unfortunately this was not the case
in reality. The Cylons were even then planning their "Final Solution to
the Human Problem". A solution that would wipe the humans forever from
the map of the galaxy, leaving the Cylon Alliance the undisputed master
of millions of star systems. The Cylon head of state, Imperious Leader,
and his war planning council had detected a weak link in the Colonial
defense: Baltar, member of the Quorum of Twelve, and power hungry
traitor.
     "The Cylons and Baltar were patient and slow moving, the actual
final attack, although it took less than a day to accomplish was almost
seven yahrens in the planning and setup. The Cylons spent yahrens setting
up the precise moment that they would propose an armistices prior to
peace talks. Their go-between was to be Baltar. Baltar was at first
hailed as a hero, and he quickly became the single most powerful member
of the Quorum of Twelve. But while the Colonial Republics were
celebrating the end of the Thousand Yahren War, the Cylons were busy
deploying their vast military. For every minor Colonial warship, a dozen
Cylon light cruisers were deployed, hidden under their newly developed
"ambush-cloak" which shielded them from all but the most vigorous sensor
sweeps. Each Cylon flotilla kept silent and shadowed its target until the
exact moment of the attack.
     "All of the Colonial battle stations were paired off with two
basestars, whose mission was to attack the battlestation, one to perform
the actual attack, and one to screen the attack and prevent any
reinforcements from reaching the besieged battlestation. Three basestars
held position just outside the Colonial tachyon net, ready for Baltar's
agents to cause momentary glitches in the mighty computers which
controlled the sensor net, allowing these basestars to slip past
unnoticed. They then took up station, one for each of the three stars
that made up the Republic's Core System.
     "And the final obstacle, the Colonial Fleet's twelve battlestars
would be attacked by a basestar and over 1,000 fighters which had been
concealed in a dense nebulae only a few light seconds from where the
historic signing of the armistice was to take place. At the appointed
hour in the yahren 7360, the Cylon's Final Solution to the Human Question
began. The survivors have been hunted, marked for extermination by the
Cylon Hoards for the past five yahrens. Now with your support, it is time
to take the battle back to Imperious Leader and his minions."

Completed 09:10:32 PST
January 1, 2005 at Los Angeles, Ca.


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

NOTES:

{ * } COLONIAL GUNSTAR

----------------------------------------------------

     Soon after defeating the Cylon Task Force at the Cylon Frontier
Capitol, Commander Adama presented a defense requisition to the Council
of Twelve. The plan called for the use of most of the technological booty
from the Frontier Capitol to build four ultrafast, heavily armed gunships
designated *Gunstars* and an auxiliary fighter carrier and electronic
warfare platform, designated a Battleknife. After much debate, the
Council gave its approval and the plan was presented to the Colonial
Assembly. The requisition for construction of all five new warships was
overwhelmingly approved and the design and development phase began at
once. Within three yahrens, all five new vessels were commissioned and on
station, patrolling the borders of the civilian fleet. The Command and
Control Cruiser was charged with the control and deployment of the four
Gunstars.
     Colonial Gunstar Horus
     Colonial Gunstar Aries 
     Colonial Gunstar Anubis 
     Colonial Gunstar Neith
     Battleknife Ramses
----------------------------------------------------
SPECIFICATIONS
 
Assigned Crew:     GUNSTAR     BATTLEKNIFE
     5 Officers, 69 EM     Ship's Company: 12 Officers, 3 WO, 88 EM
     Viper Squadron: 24 Officers, 117 EM
Length:     102 meters [331' 6"]     320 meters [1,040' 0"]
Width:     20 meters [65' 0"]     51 meters [165' 9"]
Draught:     10 meters [32' 3"]     22 meters [71' 6"]
Mass:     3,240 tons     19,388 tons 
Propulsion:     Sublight: Nuclear Electric Ion Drive     Sublight:
Nuclear Electric Ion Drive
     FTL Drive: Transdimensional Jump Drive       FTL Drive:
Transdimensional Jump Drive
Power Plant:     Hydrogen Fusion     Hydrogen Fusion
Offensive Weaponry:     Three 205mm Plasma Cannons in     Six dual 205mm
Charged Perticle turets
     a single turret, 4 Torpedo Tubes     Twelve Torpedo Tubes, 6 guided
missile launchers
     24 Super Viper Interceptors
Combat Endurance:     14 days     90 days

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

{ ** }   QLR:  Quantum Link Radio. FTL communications/sensor method used
in my version of the ST:TNG universe. Similar to "sub-space" radio,
except I have technobabble theories and specifications to support it.

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

{ *** } NEID: Nuclear Electric Ion Drive

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

{ **** } TRANSMIT:  My version of ST:TNG is not cannon, especially when
it comes to the concept of the Star Trek "transporter". I've never been
comfortable with the concept of "beaming", but the transporter is too
handy to loose, so I've redesigned it. In my version, the transmit
creates a bistable wormhole between two points in space time. One simply
steps through from one event horizon to the other. The trip takes zero
time, nothing is disintegrated and everyone is happy. The transmit range
is similar to the ST transporter, and it requires a sending and receiving
end. That's why LaForge and his engineering crew will have to travel to
*Galactica*, to set up a portable transmit station.

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END --
If you got this far you've got it all.