Battlestar Galactica: The Fourteenth Tribe
Virtual Season 3, Episode 9
by Senmut
April 24, 2012
With many thanks to Zaz, EP, and y'all.

Chapter One                

     As Doctor Salik waited, he ran his eyes over the report in front of
him once again, but there could be no real doubt. The genetic analyses
had been run, several times, and the results could not be argued away. It
was a mystery, he told himself. Make that two mysteries, and while the
scientist in him liked a challenge, he honestly had no idea...
     Ping
     "Enter."
     "Doctor?" said Adama, stepping inside.
     "Commander," said Salik, standing. He motioned Adama into his inner
office, and offered him a small drink. 
     "What is it that you have for me, Doctor?" asked Adama.
     "We have ourselves a mystery, Commander. In fact, we have two."
     "Mysteries? Of what sort?"
     "Medical." Salik indicated his report. "As you know, I have
endeavored to collect genetic samples from every sentient species that we
have encountered, since fleeing the Colonies. I did so with the Alliance
Enforcers, the various peoples we encountered in the Boron-Din system, as
well as Ki."
     "I take it that you have encountered a problem?"
     "Not so much a problem, Commander, as a mystery, as I said." He
handed Adama a reader, and the Commander began to scan the document.
Though the deeper technobabble of advanced genetics was largely a mystery
to him, he could shake out the gist of Salik's discovery.
     "There's no doubt? None at all?"
     "None, Commander. Several of our newcomers are in their origins, at
least in part, Human." He showed the Commander other graphics, next to
those. They were, he explained, the DNA of Nizaka the Ziklagi exile, his
own, and that of one of his staff, as controls.
     Adama shook his head. "If I understand what you're saying, and of
course I'm hardly an expert here, this is incredible, Doctor. Have you
told them?'
     "Not yet. I had their permission to study their DNA, of course, but
I wanted to consult with you, first. Besides, I really have no idea how
they would take the news. Both of them have a decidedly xenophobic streak
to their native cultures, and while they seem to have assimilated well to
Colonial society, so far, I have no idea how they would be likely to
respond to something like this."
     " I see. Perhaps that is wise."
     "Thank you. As you can see, the material in the Harkaelian genome is
particularly pronounced. Over forty percent. The Zohrlochs slightly
less."
     "Then, simply put, Doctor, what you are saying..."
     "Yes, Commander. That both the Zohrloch and Harkaelian species are
the results of highly sophisticated genetic engineering, yes.
Unbelievably sophisticated. The amalgamation of material from multiple
sources, to create the Harkaelian and Zohrloch genomes. Bluntly put,
someone, at some point in the remote past, made these races."
     "Made them? As in...constructed?"
     "As we'd assemble a Viper, Commander. Piece by piece."
     "That's..." began Adama, but he stopped, at a loss for words. He
shook his head. "Any ideas as to what source stock?"
     "Unfortunately, I don't have the kind of equipment here aboard the
Fleet to perform the sorts or analyses that would have been possible back
home in a university lab, not to mention any reference samples, and what
we do have matches nothing in the database. But..." he picked the report
up again, re-reading it once more, "it would appear that in the case of
Kalysha's people, some of the genetic stock resembles that usually found
in felines."
     "Felines?" said Adama, surprised. "You mean she's a felix?"
     "Hardly, but the genetic material from some kind of vaguely
felix-like species had Human DNA grafted onto it. You've seen her eyes,
Commander. The felix-like way the pupils can contract into slits. But
perhaps I use the wrong word. Not just grafted, more like blended.
Alloyed, like disparate metals. And then integrated with such incredible
precision that it would function perfectly, as a single unit."
     "This is incredible, Doctor. Have you told Commander Allen, yet?"
     "No. I thought that right now might not be the best time, given the
loss of their child, but I intend to. Now, from Kalysha, to...the
Zohrlochs. Each of these," he indicated the various profiles, "are from
one of our newcomers. Again, large sections of Human DNA have been
grafted onto a pre-existing genome. In the case of the Zohrlochs, the
original resembles an arboreal creature, similar to various types of
small pro-simians, back in the Colonies. As before, both genetic
structures have been blended so as to function as if they had occurred
naturally."
     "And you suspect the same party is responsible for both?" asked
Adama.
     "I do. And Commander, whoever is responsible, possessed technology
far beyond anything that we have."
     "Indeed?'
     "Yes. For all our advances in the life sciences, we still do not
know how to do what these...people... have done. The technology to
achieve this is centuries, perhaps millennia, beyond where we are today.
I have consulted every text that we have on the subject, and to excise
just the parts of one genome, and insert another, and make it work?
Perfectly, as if they belonged together? No, we could not even begin to
achieve this."
     "I see. So this...genetic engineering resulted in two very different
species being transformed to appear largely Humanoid." He shook his head.

     "To be largely Human. I still have trouble grasping it all myself,
Commander," said Salik. "The incredible depth of knowledge and skill it
would take, to do this on even a small scale, is mind-boggling. It would
be like the first internal combustion engine, compared to a Battlestar,
next to what we know. It would be..."
     "God-like?" asked Adama.
     "Precisely, Commander. And what little I have learned of both
culture's mythologies, tends me towards believing that whomever is
responsible is, or was, considered very god-like."
     "Human DNA, blended with alien, sub-sentient species," said Adama,
considering Salik's report. "It seems...well, it seems almost immoral,
Doctor. To myself, at least. To play, well, play God with the very stuff
of life. And from species that are not even from the same worlds. I am
presuming these...root stocks came from some non-Human place of origin?"
     "As best I can determine, yes. And as you know, the Harkaelians
possess that weird coma, what Kalysha calls the..." he referred to his
notes, "...ah yes. The pesh'ankh. 'Sleep of Life'. The nearest analogue
that I can find, in terms of biochemistry, is in the hibernation cycles
of some mammals, back home. Whatever original species was used as source
material, in her case, this endemic trait was retained. Like the eyes."
     "And the Zohrlochs?"
     "Again, certain non-Human traits were retained. In performing their
basic physicals, I discovered that there is a solid medical basis for
their extreme physical stamina. In Humans, for example, physical activity
causes the build-up of lactic acid and other waste products in the blood
and muscular tissues. This is why we tire, and our muscles get sore."
     "But in them?"
     "In them, after an initial spike, the lactic acid not only does not
increase, it actually drops somewhat, and stays low, despite the level of
activity. Medically, this should be impossible, yet the data is there.
And, I not only found the same trait in Kalysha, but the very genes that
appear to be responsible are the same. Oh yes. Right down to being on the
same chromosome pair, with the exact type and number of base-pairs,
Commander." He showed the double-helix strands of genetic material, one
from Kalysha, and one from the others. According to the data scrolling
up, the strands were virtually identical. "The number of mutational
difference between them is vanishingly small, as if the 'project' was not
all that long ago. That cannot be a fluke, or mere chance."
     "No, that hardly seems likely," said Adama, lost in thought a
moment. "Anything else I should know about, Doctor?"
     "Not yet, although we will continue to probe into this, as best we
can." Salik smiled slightly.          "Except that I think we should be
thankful there are no Zohrloch females aboard the Fleet." 
     "Oh?"
     "Yes. At various, irregular, times in their adult lives, Korl tells
me, their women, well, one could almost say 'go into heat'."
     "Heat, Doctor?" Adama was clearly surprised at the word.
"Like...like a daggit?"
     "Reduced to the basics, well, yes. They become oblivious to
everything but their desire for sex, almost like animals, and as a
consequence, produce pheromones that drive any mature healthy male in the
vicinity nearly insane with arousal. Almost a drugged state. Korl said
they call it..." He looked at the data again. "Otih n'ihal, or 'The love
that kills.' He said it was once common for affected males to fight each
other over the nearest fertile woman. Often to the death. Korl told me
that the women in question often come out of it looking like they've gone
a few rounds with a professional pugilator. This trait is found in the
non-Human sections of their genome, but, Lords be praised, Humans have no
receptor sites for the pheromones in question." 
     "They certainly do seem hard-wired for violence," said Adama. "In
more ways than one, it seems."
     "So I've noticed." Salik set the reader down. "Probably one reason
why they restrict their women so much on Eridu."
     "Lords of Kobol, the universe is a strange place!" sighed Adama. He
stood. "What?"
     "Thinking about this, Commander, I get the feeling..."
     "Yes?"
     "I get the strong feeling that in both cases, these genetic
engineering projects were, well...how do I put this? Sort of test runs,
as it were. As if in each case, and these are the only two we know about,
were exercises in the science."
     "Exercises?"
     "Yes. In the case of the Zohrlochs, the fact that the pheromone
cycle in the women is not regular, but unpredictable. A flaw, perhaps? A
tiny one, but a flaw nonetheless. As if the...process, if we may call it
such, was not entirely perfected. He sighed. "Yes, exercises, Commander."
     "Leading up to...what?'
     "I don't know, Commander. But in both cases, these species were
seeded on worlds that had what could only be termed a brutal environment.
Hot, dry, limited ecosystems and mineral-poor. As if..."
     "They were test models. Prototypes, perhaps?"
     "Exactly," Salik snapped his fingers, shifting forward. "Prototypes.
Essays in the craft, before..."
     "Before what?"
     "God knows, Commander." Salik sighed again. "Simply put, Commander,
these people, the Zohrlochs, are, for all intents and purposes, Kobol's
Fourteenth Tribe. And the Harkaelians the Fifteenth." He waited a beat.
"And, as a consequence of their partly-Human origins, I find no genetic
reason why they and Humans could not interbreed." Adama looked at him,
and he nodded. "Oh yes. I analyzed the fetal remains of Allen and
Kalysha's child. Genetically, it was perfectly normal. The two blended
like a pair of fine wines."
     "This is incredible." Adama thought a moment. "You think that...the
ancient Kobollians did this, don't you?" he gestured at the data pad.
     "Yes, Commander. I confess that I do. While I'm no expert in ancient
lore, it is said that our distant forebears had great powers and could
work wonders. Given that Human DNA is present in these people, suggests
that it was Humans who performed these...operations. Given the time span,
who but the Kobollians could be responsible?"
     "I must admit that God comes to mind before the Kobollians, Doctor."
     Salik shrugged. "My instincts tell me differently, Commander. I'm
not sure I can explain why, but I do feel certain about this."
     "But why would the Kobollians do this? For what purpose, Doctor?"
     "Who can say? The tales say that Kobol was dying. Perhaps...perhaps
an attempt to preserve the Human race through genetic manipulation, and
seeding other worlds."
     "It seems a strange way of doing it, I should think. Why not just
settle colonists on the planets in question?"
     "I don't know," Salik admitted. "But, from what we have learned from
our new citizens, their homeworlds were not always the hardscrabble,
desert planets they are today. Apparently, Eridu was once lush and
verdant, much like Caprica or Piscera. According to legend, it was
reduced to desert only at some later point in it's history. Perhaps..."
Salik trailed off, thinking. "Perhaps the original biosphere of those
worlds were difficult or even inimical to Humans, as we are naturally.
Kalysha admits to knowing little of her world's natural history, but it,
too, once was covered with seas and abundant life. Then, at some point in
the past..." He snapped his fingers. "It changed. Legends say that only a
few groups survived to carry on the race."
     "And these worlds are so far away from where our people grew up,"
said Adama, musing. "If the ancient Kobollians did indeed seed other
worlds with, well, enhanced animals or augmented Humans, whichever you
choose, that might explain why the Thirteenth Tribe settled so far away
from the Colonies."
     "A good suggestion, Commander. It might explain much."
     "But Byrne and Allen are not alien. Their genetics are fully Human,
correct?"
     "Yes, they are, Commander. Another layer to the riddle, I'm afraid.
And while I do not pass judgement, it seems that someone, for whatever
reason, played God with the very stuff of life."
     "Let us hope we never gain such power, Salik. Or at least acquire
the wisdom to use it properly."
     "Agreed."
     "As to this..." he indicated the report once more, "we should tell
them. They are, after all, modern, highly advanced individuals. I think
perhaps they all are capable of handling the truth, Doctor . . . or at
least the truth as we see it."
     "I hope you are right, Commander." 

Chapter Two    

     "You wished to see us, Commander?" asked Sargamesh, at the door to
Adama's quarters. Behind him were Korl, and Malik, along with rest of the
Eridese survivors.
     "Yes, please come in, gentlemen." Adama gestured them to seats. He
waited until they were seated. He noted the expressions on the alien men,
especially that of Li'aht, the youngest of the group, at his not
addressing them informally, rather than by rank. Long-since recovered
from the injuries suffered before his rescue, he had been assigned to
work aboard the Celestra, given his aptitude in electronic systems. Two
other survivors, Zigo, and Tos, rounded out the group. "Something to
drink?" he asked. "This meeting is entirely informal, I assure you. All
of you have performed your various duties well. Nothing disciplinary."
     "Thank you," said Sargamesh, taking a small glass from Adama. 
     Vintage ambrosia. Well!
     "The purpose for this meeting is simple, gentlemen," Adama began. "I
am interested to learn of your origins. By which I mean, the stories and,
if I may use the term without offense, myths, of the beginnings of your
race." As he waited for the Languatron to do it's work, and the others to
digest this, he thought of Kalysha, also a scion of Humanity at some
distant point. But, Allen had told him, she was still in seclusion, Allen
had told him, mourning the loss of their child in the way of her people.
He understood. Another time.
     "The stories of the Beginning Time?" asked Korl, obviously
surprised. Whatever he had expected of this call to the Commander's
quarters, this wasn't it.
     "Yes. Of the very beginning of your world, and your people."
     "Well..." Korl looked to Sargamesh. "he would be the one to ask. He
is far more learned in the ancient lore than I." Adama looked to the
other.
     "My mother's father was an ummata, Commander. What you call an
Academician. Learned in much ancient and today, near-forgotten lore. I
would sit at his feet as a child, hungry for all the stories he could
tell, of the Dim Time, and what came after."    
     "I see. So, if I may?"
    "Of course, Commander," said the other, and began. 
    Over the next several centars, Sargamesh, occasionally augmented by
the others, related stories both ancient, and maddeningly incomplete. Of
how the Elder gods, beings sometimes also called the Fashioners, had come
to Eridu, then a world of lush and verdant aspect, and taken from the
forests "mute and thoughtless beasts", and transformed them, and through
their power "made them to stand like men. To speak, and to be." These
Fashioners, it was said, had taken the "force of their own life", and
infused it into the witless beasts the Eridese had once been, and brought
forth creatures that looked much like themselves. Then, as if to
complement their work, these newly-made beings were taught "how to think,
and to speak". Given the arts of civilization, they were taught to dig,
to fashion with their hands, to hunt and to till the ground. Then, as
mysteriously as they had come, they returned to whatever realm they had
come from. In any event, they were gone, and the Eridese were on their
own.
     My God! thought Adama. Could Salik be right?
     The others went on to tell of how, legend said, the people throve
and multiplied, acquiring all the arts of civilization. Making gardens,
fashioning metal and stone, raising cities. Life, so said the myths was
good, and there was plenty for all.
     "Until the Change," said Tos.
     "The Change?" asked Adama.
     "So it is called in the old tales," said Sargamesh. "It is said that
men offended the gods, and grew ever more arrogant in their achievement
and riches. At last, the gods punished them, and the fashion of the world
was changed."
     "How so?"
     "The skies burned, so it was said. The greater part of the forests
and the animals were taken away. The seas were turned to dust. Countless
died, with only the roofless sky for their tomb. But, the merciful gods
spared a few, that the kind of men should not cease to be." He smiled
slightly. "So say the ancient tales and lays."
     "And what do you think?" asked Adama.
     "Modern science tells it slightly differently," shrugged Sargamesh.
"Indeed, our planet's atmosphere was once heavier. More like that of your
Caprica. It was girdled by great seas, of which the vast depression we
call 'Tigamesh's Bed' * is a remnant. Geologists have shown that much of
the surface was covered in thick and varied vegetation. Remains of cities
are there, under the sands of millennia. So, there appears to be truth in
it all."
     "One theory, sir," ventured Tos, "is that a massive eruption from
our sun may be to blame. A Coronal Mass Ejection, of enormous size,
striking the planet directly."
     "Yes, I can see where that might be a possibility," said Adama. "The
burning skies, the destruction of surface water, the loss of atmosphere.
I have heard of worlds where such a thing has left it devastated."
     "So, we think, it was with our world," said Sargamesh. "Were it not
for Eridu's very strong magnetic field, it may be that today it would be
but a lifeless rock. "But, however one sees it, it was done. Eridu was
finished with being kind. Survival became everything. Those who remained
had to fight, for every morsel, every drop of water. Struggle, fighting,
war; they came to define us, as a species. For good or ill, it made us
the people, the warrior race, that we are today."
     "The gods did however show mercy," said Li'aht. "Our ancestors were
protected. In caves, or on the night side of the planet. Spared, to grow
again."
     "Or, at least fortunate enough to be in the right place at the right
time," ventured Korl, less given to religious awe than his fellow
countryman. 
     "The gods..." began Li'aht.
     "Are beyond our understanding," said Sargamesh. "Perhaps they use
the tools to hand, to work their will." To Adama, his voice seemingly
lacked conviction, but now was not the time to bring up divisions in
Eridese theology.
     "Is it known where they came from?" asked Adama, eager to pour oil
over the waters here. "These Fashioners?"
     "No," said Sargamesh. "By which I mean, no place known to us, either
then or now. They came from the sky, and they went back there. But they
hailed, it was said, from the realm of K'bel."
     Adama nearly dropped his glass.

     * A vast, deep chasm, up to three kilometrons and more in depth,
running almost two-thirds the way around Eridu, roughly at the equator,
similar to the Valles Marinaris on Mars. Once a vast sea, it is now dry
and almost uninhabitable. Named for Ti-Gamesh, the Zohrloch deity of the
underworld, a flaming skeleton, who feasts on the souls of the evil and
dishonored dead. 

     Fleeing from the Cylon tyranny, the last Battlestar, Galactica,
leads a rag-tag fugitive fleet, on a lonely quest-a shining planet, known
as Earth.