Life in the dark of space

Alpha and Omega part 63 - "A Nice Summer Walk"

2008-07-23T01:04:16Z

Part 63 of my Big Damn Table fic! Kara/Felix

Title - "A Nice Summer Walk"
Prompt - 063 - Winter
Word Count - 594
Summary - Felix finds out how difficult life will soon be
Author's note - This is part of my table fic posted here. I recommend reading in order
http://rapfic.livejournal.com/8449.html#cutid1

As soon as he skidded to a stop at the bottom of the rocky ravine, Gaeta knew he was frakked. Forget that the spill meant that he had lost valuable running time, he could feel his left knee throb and protest as he struggled to his feet. It wasn’t unbearable, but it was the same old injury as before and as he limped around the stones, he knew he was going to be caught.

He stumbled down the steep creek bed. He could hear the Centurions thrashing their way down but he tried to tune it out. This is it, he told himself as he stumbled again, barely catching himself from falling over a twenty foot drop in the steep stream bed. Even though he knew it was impossible to out run a Centurion, he tried to regain his feet. If he was running, then they would shoot him and that would kill him. That would be better than being captured. He had no illusions about himself. Everyone broke eventually.

Suddenly something slammed him on the back, pinning him down. A Centurion, he thought, standing on him. He struggled and the pressure on his back increased to where he could barely breath. But the heavy metal foot didn’t press down as hard as he knew it could, and he still hadn’t heard the tell tale whirr of the gun hand activating. They had orders to capture him then. Not kill him, at least not right away. In a way that made his role easier to play.

He just had to hope that Kara didn’t do something stupid like come back for him.

Footsteps crunched along the creek bed, the tread too light for a Centurion. “Well… Isn’t this a surprising turn of events.” Felix couldn’t see Cavil but the man’s cynical tone was unmistakable. Cavil stepped over and knelt down, making sure that he could see Felix’s face. “Fancy meeting you here, Lt. Gaeta. Here I am, taking a nice summer walk, enjoying the new body that you made so necessary… I was thinking of you, and your… kindness of spirit. I was hoping that one day, I would be able to…. Have a little talk with you, so this works well, don’t you think?”

“Not… really, no…” Felix choked out.

“Hmm, well that is just too bad,” Cavil said. He stood up and moved out of Felix’s line of sight. Suddenly, Felix felt a sharp sting in his leg, like a shot. Cavil stepped around to where Felix could at least see his feet and knelt down again. “Humans can be such children sometimes, for all that they’re the elder species. I think, Lt. Gaeta, that you’ve been acting more like a child than an adult. You were quite… naughty with me earlier. And now? I think you’re a little cranky and over tired, so you are going to take a little nap. And when you wake up, I think I’ll see if I can’t convince you to have a nice long chat with me about… well… important things.”

Felix felt his vision start to swim as the drug Cavil injected him with started to take hold. Whatever it was, he thought dimly as he closed his eyes, it was fast acting. At least Cavil would be wasting his time on him, and not going after Kara. She had the Scepter, and he was beginning to think it really would lead them to Earth. That meant he had to hold out for as long as he could.

No matter what Cavil did.

Fic - "Going Native part 60"

2008-07-20T15:47:33Z

WOOO! Part Sixty! We're getting close! BSG/STNG crossover! Will Kara finally get on the clue bus? Let's find out!

It hurt. Her entire body seemed to burn and that was what brought her back to awareness. Still, as she opened her eyes, the intensity of it seemed to fade, leaving her feeling exhausted and tingly, as though she was filled with static electricity. And she felt nauseous. Kara struggled to her feet and clutched the metal wall as a wave of dizziness threatened her.

“Oh frak…” she muttered darkly. It felt like a hangover, the worst hangover she’d ever had, multiplied by at least one hundred. The green blood and brain matter smeared all over the walls wasn’t helping the rising gorge either, but she took a moment and the feeling passed.

At least until she heard Gaeta vomit. She turned slowly, careful to not make her own dizziness worse. He was just barely on his knees, throwing up an ugly brownish black stream. “Gods, Gaeta, what the hell did you eat?”

“Cookies and…. Milk…” He vomited again and Kara grabbed him just before he fell into it. She propped him up against the wall. He looked barely conscious, much worse than he had just moments earlier. “You… should get the Romulans weapon….”

“They’re dead, Gaeta.” She assumed they were dead, anyway. She didn’t feel well enough to take a closer look.

He started to shake his head and winced. “No… if you shoot me with their weapon… everyone will think it was them….”

“Gaeta…. I’m not going to kill you….”Although she could see why he thought that. It had been a large part of her original plan. She laughed despite how much it hurt. “I was planning to, but after this….” She was still to shocked to really think about it but she knew what she felt. “You’re Apollo’s child….” And if that was true, then Gaeta was right. She was Athena’s child in the prophecy. Killing Gaeta would have killed them all, the mistake Athena’s child made in one branch of the prophecy.

Gaeta looked at her blearily. “I’m not…” Suddenly he chuckled, although she could see he was barely keeping his eyes open. “It doesn’t matter… I knew… I knew this would end badly.” He looked up at her, his expression suddenly intent. “You were right. In the airlock. I… I could have stopped us…. I could have told the Admiral who I really was and how close we were. I didn’t… I thought the people wanted to settle… and I knew how much trouble I’d get in… so I didn’t stop it. I got six thousand people killed… And I’m still going to prison…. Violating the Prime Directive… I had to do it, to make up for that, for all of those people… This…” and he touched the metal wall of the Galactica, “was the only reason I didn’t shoot myself after New Caprica…” He looked at her sadly. “You’d be doing me a favor… My family is always watched because of what we are. It was one thing my mother always warned us about…. When you have special talents, you always have to be extra careful to follow the rules. With… all of the talk of Apollo…. They’ll nail me to the wall just to make the point…”

It shocked her. Not the prison talk, she had known that Gaeta was in hack, that was part of her plan. To at least get him in hack if she wasn’t able to kill him. Because if the usurper wasn’t dead, he had to be neutralized and Felix Gaeta in prison meant that the calmer people in the fleet wouldn’t be inclined to worship him. But every thing she had read about the Federation told her that it was pretty laid back in a lot of respects. Gaeta was barely conscious, she could see that, but he was still afraid. “Gaeta… Felix….I’m not going to kill you… Look, I won‘t even talk about this. And I won‘t call you Apollo‘s child.”

She had a feeling that plenty of people would be doing that without her adding to it, but she could see how what they had just done had the potential to increase the religious talk.

He looked at her, his expression tired. “It doesn’t matter. I was stupid… There’s a notebook…I don’t even remember doing it…. It’s in the lab somewhere… It’s evidence… I was sick on New Caprica…I must have written something down because I thought I was going to die…” He chuckled again and closed his eyes. “And that’s my luck, that’s always my luck….” He opened his eyes after a moment and looked up at her. “It really doesn’t matter… I think I’m dying….I never felt this bad…”

He did look bad, Kara realized. She felt pretty horrible herself, shaky and tingly and dizzy, and whatever Gaeta had done to her, using her as some sort of energy source with him as a conduit, he had taken the brunt of the action. He didn’t just look exhausted, he looked miserably ill and she realized suddenly that he was shaking. No, she thought suddenly, I have to make this right.

“I’ll get help,” she said softly, but Gaeta just closed his eyes. She staggered down the corridor, realizing every step she took hurt. Her feet felt like she was wearing lead boots and she gripped the corridor wall against the wave of dizziness. There were comm units, she knew it, but they were spaced far apart. Somewhere. The Romulans had fired into one, the closest one. It just frakking figures, she thought as she took another step, there’s no godsdamned comm unit close by. Her stomach suddenly rolled, but she pressed on, turning the corner.

“Kara?” Racetrack was there, with Reg Barclay of all people, and the two of them looked worried. Racetrack grabbed her by the shoulders to steady her. “Are you drunk? There’s Romulan boarding parties… we heard shots…”

She shook her head, despite the increasing dizziness. “Gaeta… in the next corridor…” She looked at Reg, and realized that the Starfleet officer was one of the few who might instantly get it. “He’s sick… he was fixing the ship and he used that power that he has….”

She could see Reg understand her point instantly. He looked at Racetrack, and then at her, as if realizing something important. She wasn’t surprised. Reg was possibly the smartest person she had ever met. She could see in his eyes that he knew she was involved and that if she was barely able to stand then Gaeta had to be badly off. “I’ll check him,” he said to Racetrack.

Kara nodded at his words. “ I… killed some of those aliens….” Her stomach rolled again and she couldn’t fight it anymore. She started to vomit and realized only dimly that Racetrack was lowering her to the floor.

~*~

It was the noise that brought her around. The beeping in her ear was the first clue that she was under Dr. Cottle’s not so gentle care. The next clue was the not as hard as the floor surface she was lying on. One of the hospital cots, and fortunately Cottle hadn’t had time to pull one of his favorite tricks and strip her naked while she was unconscious and dress her up in a hospital gown. That was good.

She opened her eyes just a little. Kara was surprised that Cottle wasn’t standing over her, letting hot ash drop on her as a wake up call, he and the Vulcan doctor were working at the bed opposite hers. Gaeta, she realized as she spotted the new boots and yellow cloth of his uniform. She could see his feet suddenly twitch rhythmically and Cottle was quick to hold him down.
“What the hell?” Cottle said, his tone concerned. “He’s seizing.”

“His electrolytes are dangerously depleted and out of balance. Hold him still.” The Vulcan touched Gaeta with one of her small devices, and almost instantly the shaking stopped. The alien doctor looked at Cottle. “This is concerning but unlikely to result in permanent damage. There were extensive studies done on the Pollux hybrids. This is the end result of severe overexertion. I recommend transporting him to Federation facilities once we regain contact with the Dooley or the Enterprise. I am able to treat this, but he will recover more quickly in better facilities”

Cottle frowned. “This never happened until you people came around, T’Kil….” Kara almost smiled. As much of an ass as Cottle could be, he was always concerned about his patients. He glared at T’Kil and then down at Gaeta, as if irritated that the man was sick. Still, it eased her mind. Gaeta wasn’t going to die and that meant at the very least she wasn’t going to be blamed for killing him. She didn’t mind taking that kind of hit when she was genuinely responsible but she did mind taking the blame when she hadn’t done more than fight with him. A fight the bastard had won easily, and she had a feeling that he hadn’t even had to try that hard, despite looking like hell.

It also meant that she needed to think about moving. There were things she needed to do. Felix Gaeta was not the usurper of the prophecy but she couldn’t shake the feeling that she knew who it was, that it was part of her destiny. So she started to get up and in an instant Cottle was there.

“You need to sit down, young lady,” Cottle said darkly. “According to this damn thing,” and he was holding one of the sleek Starfleet devices, “you’re lucky you’re even conscious. You’ve got the same electrolyte depletion.” He seemed suddenly curious about the readings he was getting and handed the device to T’kil. The Vulcan didn’t seem to be surprised but Kara had heard that they weren’t emotional.

“This is consistent with theories being presented about your people,” T’Kil said to Cottle. She looked at Kara. “Your throat is bruised.”

“I fell,” Kara said easily. That was a lot easier than the truth. Cottle snorted in amusement.

“That explanation is inconsistent with the finger shaped bruises,” T’Kil said, but she did not take it any further. To Cottle she said, “I recommend rest and nutritional supplementation to speed healing but this one will recover without assistance. Even Lt. Cmdr. Gaeta will recover without assistance, but there is no need for anyone to suffer needlessly. Her condition is not as severe.” Someone handed T’Kil a bottle of yellowish orange liquid, and T’Kil handed it to Kara. “You will drink this.”

“Why?” It didn’t look especially appetizing, especially considering how queasy her stomach felt. “This looks disgusting.”

The Vulcan looked at her and then at Cottle, who shrugged, his expression one of sheer amusement.

“You wonder why I don’t give them time to talk back? She’s your patient, you deal with her.” Cottle crossed his arms. The Vulcan seemed off put but only for a moment.

She turned her attention back to Kara. Her eyes narrowed although her expression didn’t discernibly change. “You will drink this. Because I say so.”

Kara rolled her eyes. “Or what?”

T’kil frowned. “I will ask Dr. Cottle to strike you. I am sure he would not mind assisting me.”

“Sure,” Cottle said, a rare smile crossing his face. “I can help more.” He held up a lit cigarette and waggled it, his intent obvious. Kara rolled her eyes again.

“A scar would leave a lasting reminder,” T’Kil said gravely. “Perhaps it won’t be necessary.” She eyed Kara.

“Fine,” Kara said, frowning but not really meaning it. She sipped the beverage, and made a face. Then she gestured to the bed where Gaeta was lying. “Is he going to live?”

T’Kil nodded. “He is not likely to wake for some time, but he should recover fully.” She gestured to the hospital bed Kara was lying on. “You should rest as well.”

“Whatever.” Kara sipped the beverage and waited for T’Kil to be distracted by patients. She would be damned if she spent the next six hours safely ensconced in a hospital bed. There were things to do. She could feel it, that she had more to do in order to make things work out. Because things weren’t right, not yet.

She watched for a few minutes as the medical staff worked over their patients. It was surprising to see that there were empty beds. There were also several Starfleet medics there and she watched in surprise as one of the pilots came in with an obviously broken hand and left minutes later with her hand completely fine. But she couldn’t relax, even though the wretched drink was making her better, and more alert. Something was still wrong.

Then she spotted Reg Barclay poking his head into the cavernous room. She waved him over. He quickly came to her side, sparing a nervous glance at Gaeta, who appeared to be asleep. “ Is…. Is he ok?”

“If he was dead, Cottle would have put a sheet over him, don’t worry.” She pulled Reg closer to her. Quietly she said, “I didn’t hurt him. You were right. I wasn’t being fair.” And Reg Barclay was a much braver guy than he let people know because there weren’t many people who would tell her how wrong she was while within arm’s reach. “Listen to me,” she said softly. “I need to know something. We’re in Federation space, right?”

“Yes. There’s no way the Romulans will come this deep into our territory and there’s about five ships on their way to support your fleet. It’s going to be all right for your people.” Reg spoke equally soft.

“Your captain…. He’ll find the time to investigate things then? What is going on?” An idea formed in her head. The Scroll of Apollo mentioned a usurper, a trickster, for a reason. It was the usurper, in some of the prophecies threads, that destroyed Apollo’s child and led the people to death.

And it was Athena’s child that stopped it from happening.

“I don’t know… officially…” Reg looked around nervously before he continued. “But the admiral refused to let Cmdr. Riker search your science lab… and now that the Galactica has jumped and is safe… its going to be difficult for him to refuse.”

Kara saw it in an instant. Adama was trying to protect Gaeta and ultimately he would have to allow access to the lab or face accusations that he had been in cahoots with Gaeta. Which wasn’t true, and not likely to bother the old man, but she suspected the Federation would make things difficult for Adama. And there was evidence in the lab, evidence that would land Gaeta in prison. Evidence that Dr. Gaius Baltar had tried to trick her into finding for him.

Baltar. It was Baltar, it had always been Baltar and she had nearly let him win.

She pulled Reg close. “Listen to me. I have to do something, to make up for being… well… I have to make it up, ok? I need you to distract the doctors so I can get out of here. Don’t make me explain why.” She pointedly nodded towards Gaeta’s body and waited.

Reg blinked and looked at her and then at Gaeta. Damn, she though with relief as understanding finally came to his features, you’re lucky you’re good at math. “You… want to help Felix.”

“I need to take care of something and I need to get out of here. Do something.” She let go of him.

Reg nodded and rolled up his sleeve, revealing a slight rash on his arm. He took a deep breath, and turned, heading straight to T’kil and Cottle, who were standing over Gaeta. “Excuse me!” He said it loudly, and in a panicked tone. “I have this rash and I was feverish! I think I have small pox!”

As a small crowd of personnel converged on him, Kara grinned and slipped out of bed. Smart, nervous guys like Reg really had their uses.

Fic - "Going Native part 59"

2008-07-09T23:01:20Z

WOOO! Part 59! I think you'll like this. I hope you'll like this. STNG/BSG crossover, starring pretty Mr. Gaeta and so many others....

He was in one of their uniforms, of course. She wasn’t surprised by that at all. Gaeta was one of them, not a true colonial citizen at all, and he had always been quick to run to whoever gave him the best deal. The Federation had no doubt lapped up all of the intelligence he had provided them with. What surprised her was how positively ill he looked. She had seen Lee briefly after his return from the Enterprise and Lee had looked fantastic. Well rested and energetic, Lee had looked like a man who had just returned from a great vacation, and from the way he talked, the Enterprise was essentially a pleasure cruiser. Gaeta in contrast looked exhausted and sickly pale, with dark circles under his eyes. Not exactly god like, which she added to her list of things that marked Gaeta as the usurper. “Step away from the computer bank, Gaeta.”

He turned his back to her and put his hands back on the computer. “I know why you’re here, Kara. And you need to give me about five minutes before you kill me. Otherwise the Galactica won’t be able to jump, and the Romulans will call in reinforcements and everyone on this ship will be killed. Let me fix the ship and then you do whatever you want.”

She gritted her teeth. No one knew what he had done to the FTL drive and she wasn’t blind to the bodies of the aliens in the corridor. It had been the gunfire that had led her there. Still… “You’re not a god.”

Gaeta looked at her and sighed. “I never said I was. But I owe you and your people this. I have to get you to safety, and then you can kill me. But I need five minutes.” He turned his attention back to the computer. Then he closed his eyes and she was startled to see the computer’s lights start to speed up their blinking.

“What the hell are you doing?” She pulled him away from the computer bank and slammed him into the corridor wall. Be careful, a little voice warned inside her head, his sister said he was stronger than he looked, but she ignored it.

And she was too surprised by the sudden flash of anger on his face to pull the trigger, or even dodge as he dove and tackled her. She got in a few punches but he was stronger than he looked and in seconds he had her pinned to the floor, his arm around her neck. “You stupid bitch,” he hissed as he choked her. “All you had to do was wait five frakking minutes….”

That was the last thing she heard as she lost consciousness.
~*~

“We have reports of enemy boarding parties,” Admiral Adama’s voice rumbled over the loudspeaker. “We are at condition one.”

Cottle shrugged as he loaded his side arm. Bill always had a way of sounding serious yet completely at ease on the loudspeaker. As if the Galactica routinely repelled alien space pirates or whatever the current crisis was. Still, no one was hassling his patients. Especially now that they had medicine and treatments. “All right, I want everyone to be alert. If you’re sick, then just lie there and don’t worry.” He glanced at T’kil who had stayed behind to assist with the patients. “I have an extra gun if you want.”

She eyed him. “Vulcans are pacifists.”

“That must make wars less exciting,” he said as he lit a cigarette. Before she could retort, the doors to the hospital area slammed open and two Romulans stormed in, holding what he had to assume were weapons. “This is a hospital, gentlemen. Would you like a bandage?”

“What for?” snarled the first.

Cottle fired his gun. It slammed into the Romulan and the explosive round made a huge hole in the Romulan’s chest. As it fell, spewing greenish blood to the floor, Cottle said, “Yeah I guess a bandage isn’t really going to help.”

“Look out,” T’kil said, pushing him aside as the other Romulan rushed them. She quickly and calmly spun the Romulan into a wrist lock and then used her free hand to pinch the man’s neck, causing him to collapse in a heap.

“Well, that was certainly cute,” Cottle said easily as two of Galactica’s pilots stormed in, guns waving. They skidded and slipped in the dead Romulan’s blood.
“It also creates less mess. And now we have a prisoner.” T’kil wasn’t exactly smiling, but Cottle sensed a certain amusement coming from her.

He took a deep drag on his cigarette. “All I know,” he said as he nudged the dead Romulan with his shoe, “ is that these guys aren’t exactly tough to kill. Somebody better get a mop though.”
~*~

She realized with a start that she wasn’t dead. She was lying on the floor of the corridor, propped up against the wall, her weapon conveniently out of reach. Gaeta was still there, his back to her. He was leaning against the bank of computers, touching it and resting his head against it, almost as if he was trying to hug it. His eyes were closed and he seemed to be almost grimacing with effort. The computer seemed to be blinking in time to his breath, and for just a moment she was awed by it, because she could just sense what he was doing. She knew what he was doing, that was the hell of it. He was one with the ship, feeling it and directing it. She had done the same thing with her Viper, it was instinctive and for a second she was jealous. Jealous that Gaeta of all people, had the pilot gift and had it in such abundance that he could direct a ship the size of the Galactica. Pilots, good pilots, had the gift of being able to be one with their ship. It wasn’t something that was talked about, it was understood. Pilots that lasted, that lived beyond their first few real missions, had the gift. It was what divided the excellent from the average.

Still, it gave her an idea of what he had been up to over the years. It also erased any doubt she had about his supposedly holy nature. He had broken the Galactica, on purpose, and she was watching him try to fix it. For a moment, her resolve wavered. If he wanted to destroy them all, a small voice chimed inside of her head, there had been better opportunities. He could have let them all die on New Caprica. Or during the jump from Ragnor. If she had the number on the new aliens, the Romulans correct, then Gaeta could have cheerfully led them all to their deaths. And it wasn’t as though he had ever been all that obsessed at self preservation.

He was standing with his back to her, with his eyes closed, after all. That wasn’t conducive to living long, not at all. And as she watched him through slitted eyes, she realized he was completely oblivious to everything around him. Her hand inched forward and she slowly gripped the service pistol. She had learned how to wait. It was a lesson Leoben had taught her and she could wait for him to be done. Shooting him in the back while he was totally out of it wasn’t exactly sporting. So she kept as still as possible, her eyes barely open.

That meant she saw the alien soldier as it slowly rose from its prone position, and carefully take shaky aim at Gaeta with its weapon. No, she thought darkly as her fingers curled around the trigger of her pistol, I’ve waited patiently. You and your green bleeding ass are not ruining this for me. With lightening speed she swung the weapon around and fired. The alien went down with a squawk of pain, and she fired another round at its head to be careful. She kept her eyes on the Romulan, noting Gaeta had turned to look at the edge of her peripheral vision. “Does a head shot kill them?”

“What?” Gaeta said, his voice shocked and breathless.

“The Romulan. Does a head shot kill them?” She was pretty certain the greenish splatter was brain tissue.

“Y-yes….”Gaeta stuttered. If anything he looked even more pale.

She pointed the pistol at him. “Good. Now get to it. We haven’t jumped yet.” The Romulans were dangerous, and the Galactica needed to rejoin the fleet. “We can talk when you’re done.”

“No…” He flinched at her look, but only a little. “I’m sorry… I’m not a god… it’s just a form of telekinesis…. But I don’t….” He suddenly slammed his fist into the wall. “That damn centurion….” He looked up at her. “It’s not magic… but it’s like a battery… you have to recharge and I didn’t… The Galactica just needs a push and I don’t have enough left…”

“Son of a bitch!” Kara snarled. The prophecy was true, in part. Gaeta had led them to the point they were at, with an alien ship bearing down on them and the ship unable to jump. He was the usurper, a false god bent on leading them to destruction. Her fingers curled around the trigger. For a moment, he seemed to accept his fate and then suddenly his eyes sparkled in thought.

“You flew the raider. How did you do that, Kara?” His question surprised her, partly because he asked it in that often snotty way he had when he thought he was right about something.

“It was just a ship. If it flies in atmosphere, it has to obey certain principles.” She wasn’t sure where he was going. Flying the captured raider had been a long time ago.

“You put your hands on it, inside it,” Gaeta said softly, his expression growing more excited. “You asked it to fly, didn’t you? You were desperate and you asked it, and it responded….”

The problem was that he was describing exactly how she had handled it. She had been desperate, and she had known that the ship could fly and she had… wanted it to help her out. And it had. “What are you talking about?”

“You opened the Tomb of Athena.” He pointed at her. “It wasn’t the arrow from Delphi. That was just a piece of art attached to the story. *You* are the Arrow of Apollo. You’re a direct descendent of Athena… probably some sort of genetic throwback. A lot of colonials have the genes. Not enough for it to really matter but enough for oracles and visions and enough to make the Viper hard as hell to fly if you don’t have the help. You know what I mean. I remember listening to you and Lee Adama talking one time, about how you can always tell who will wipe out in a training class.”

“Shut up!” Yet, she didn’t pull the trigger.

“You did that painting on the wall,” Gaeta pressed. He pointed to her paint dotted hands. “I remember looking at the pictures of the Temple of Jupiter and thinking it looked like the wormhole….” He took a deep breath. “I need your help, Kara. You can do whatever you want to me once the ship jumps but I need you to help me get the ship to safety… The Romulans pushed too far…. They might fire on the Galactica just to cover up the fact that they boarded.”

His words slowly sank in. “You’re not part god. I’m not part god…”

“No,” Gaeta said, “No one is part god. But you’ve read the stories… Zeus raping women, Apollo taking wives… If you believe the scrolls are true… what do you think happened to the children of the gods? It’s a gift you have… its why you’re a good pilot, it’s how you flew the raider. I need you to just help me… Just for a moment… Then you can do whatever you want… I won’t stop you.”

He’d always been such an honest little bastard, that was the problem. Despite the lie, the huge lie, she could see it in his eyes that he meant it. “Gods, you’re an idiot,” she said as she put her weapon in her flight suit’s holster. “If you’re going to break shit, you need to be able to fix it, Felix. What am I supposed to do? Pray?”

“No…” He gestured to the computer bank. “Just put your hands on it.”

She did. “Nothing is happening,” she said after a moment. Much to her surprise, Gaeta came up behind her, putting his arms around her so that his hands were on top of hers.

“Don’t worry,” he said softly in her ear. “It shouldn’t hurt…. This is like putting a fresh battery with a used one. You just have to follow along.” He pressed his hands down on hers, entwining them until his fingers touched the ship. And then she felt it. The Galactica. Almost shaking with nervous anticipation… She had to close her eyes from the force of it and when she did, it was as though she could see the ship under her hands, lines of wire and code floating by, some zooming and some… waiting.

Please jump, she heard in her mind, and she knew without a doubt it was Gaeta. There was a sense of praise, and she let it flow around her.

Everyone is pleased, Gaeta said. You did exactly what we wanted, what we needed. You brought everyone to safety. I told you not to jump and that saved us. Everyone is going to a new home and you’ll get to go too but you need to jump.

It made sense, and she could even feel Gaeta almost pulling the energy from her to convince the Galactica. She understood almost instinctively what he had done. She also realized in seconds what needed to be done. Gaeta had bullied the ship into doing something it hadn’t wanted to do and eventually he would apologize enough to appease the Galactica but they didn’t have time.

Let me, she hissed in her mind and she could feel Gaeta’s thoughts flinch and then…move aside. He was letting her control his power, and she realized with a rush that while he was exhausted, his ability outstripped anything she had ever done with a raider or a Viper. Listen to me, she said to the ship, focusing all of the lines of code into a well aimed pyramid ball, this is what the Admiral wants. Not Felix, not me, but the Admiral. The Admiral wants you to do something that’s so easy. Jumping is easy and impressive and it’s all Admiral Adama wants. You’ve never disappointed him before but you will if you don’t jump. You have to jump now!

In her mind, she let go of the thought and for just a moment she thought it had failed. And then it felt as though a wave of power flowed into her. She could sense, could feel, the Galactica let go and open the pathways to the FTL drive. The metal thrummed under her hands, a sensation she had felt many times before but never as strongly. The FTL drive was spinning and so deep in the ship, she could feel it all over her body. She pulled Gaeta’s hands off the ship’s metal wall just as the inversion of the jump wave washed over them.

We’re safe, she thought as her vision dimmed, we made it.

Fic - "Going Native part 58"

2008-07-02T23:20:00Z

Here's part 58! We're getting there! I promise I won't make you wait until 2009! BSG/STNG Crossover! WOO!

Skivar looked at the floating ships and then at the sensor readings. There was something going on with the raggedy fleet of humans, he was certain of that. He had known something was going on when the reports from the edge of the Neutral Zone began to look suspicious. He had known something was out there but every time he had gotten close, he was hindered by the border. He had known there were ships but how they were escaping the attention of the Romulan Empire, he didn’t know. Something was going on though. As much as the ratty primitive ships were chattering nonsense about finding Earth, and their lengthy journey being at an end, he didn’t buy it. There was too much interest being shown to the hulking giant ship, with shuttles landing and taking off every few minutes, particularly when it was clear from the scanners that the ships were nothing but primitive subspace haulers and carriers. Only the two large ships had any weapons at all, rail guns and nuclear devices. It was almost adorably quaint, and it smelled like a trick. A big trick since the Federation must have spent a lot of time hauling the old ships so far out.

At the same time, he couldn’t figure out why they would bother. Oh, of course the Federation was always interested in the Romulan Empire, but sending an entire fleet of pathetic subspace ships was bizarre. Even more bizarre was that the scans indicated that the ships were crammed to the brim with humans. Over forty thousand of them, and while he didn’t put it past the Federation to do something clever and unique, the Federation was notoriously squeamish. It wasn’t like them to use human lives as pawns.

That didn’t mean it was impossible though. Unusual yes, but not impossible. He looked at his helmsmen. “Is there any new activity?”

One helmsman nodded. “The smaller Starfleet vessel has just warped away. It appears to be heading deeper into Federation territory. The various shuttles moving between the ships have all landed and the Enterprise’s shuttles have returned. The inane chatter between the ships has become very…. Professional. And quiet.”

“They are up to something,” Shivar said. He looked at the view screen. The ships were there, and then suddenly they began to flicker and disappear. In a matter of seconds, all of the ships had disappeared, leaving only the Enterprise and one of the large armed ships, the one the transmissions called the Galactica. “What just happened?” he snarled at the helmsmen.

They looked at their sensor arrays. “We… don’t know, sir. There were some *minor* power fluctuations…”

Shivar waved them silent. In an instant all of the situation became clear. Picard, in his way, had been telling the truth. The fleet *was* from some previously unknown colony of humans and that in itself would need the attention of the Empire, but the sudden flit away…. That had value. Military value. Picard knew that. The Federation knew that, and that was why they were already embracing the primitives despite their supposed morals and directives. “The large ship remaining, is it showing the same fluctuations?”

“No,” the second helmsman said. “However the ship does appear to have a similar engine design as the others. The Starfleet captain did say they were having engine difficulties….”

And the large ship was still in the nebulous area where a ‘misunderstanding’ could take place without too much fuss or effort. The monitored transmissions talked about a treaty with the Federation that was not yet in effect. There was time still to enter the game and take the prize, without starting the war that the Empire wanted, but wasn’t yet ready for. He didn’t have the manpower to board and overtake a ship with over two thousand humans in it, but he did have enough men to transport in and download their technology into waiting Romulan computer banks.

And if it worked, he would vaulted to higher command. “Prepare the centurions to board the ship. We must have this technology.”
~*~

Picard watched as the colonial civilian fleet and the Cylon basestar jumped. It was a relief to know that at least the bulk of the people were safe. The Romulan ship was quiet, but he wasn’t surprised about that. They were planning something. He looked at the ensign at the helm. “Hail the Galactica.”

One thing he did plan to suggest to Adama once the current situation had passed was that an upgrade in the Galactica’s com system. It was a foregone conclusion that Shivar was listening to their conversation. There just wasn’t anyway around it, with the Galactica relying on a primitive radio system. “Admiral Adama, how are the repairs moving along?”

“As well as can be expected,” Adama said easily. Despite the lack of a view screen, Picard nodded to that. Knowing that they were being listened to, he had given Major Adama some code phrases for the repair time frames. ‘As well as can be expected’ meant that it take an hour. Perhaps less. A good thing.

“Please keep us advised,” he said easily.

“Admiral Adama is it?” chimed a new voice. It was Shivar and immediately the bridge crew increased their alertness.

“And you are?” Adama asked. Picard smiled. Bill Adama managed to sound bored and amused, nonchalant even. A good tactic with Romulans, who tended to be hyper suspicious.

“I am Dar Shivar of the Thrai. Your vessel is in a disputed territory. Frankly, it’s quite clear that you’ve likely been spying on us. However, I must say, your ship design is intriguing. Perhaps you would grant me a tour?” Shivar’s tone was oily and slick.

“We’re busy,” Adama said curtly, “and I think you’d find the self guided tour to be a little dangerous.”

“Perhaps,” Shivar said easily. “But as I understand it, you and your ship are not affiliated with the Federation. You are not covered by any treaty. I could blow up your ship and deep down, the Federation wouldn’t care.”

“Let’s not overstate,” Picard said easily. “This is Federation space and these people are engaged in treaty talks.”

“Perhaps this is Federation space. Perhaps not. Admiral Adama, your ship is intriguing. It’s a shame you’re against anyone having a look.” Shivar’s voice held more than a hint of threat.

“You wouldn’t like it here.” Adama said coldly. “Don’t make me show you why.”

“Very well.”

Picard waited just a moment before he continued. “You realize Shivar is monitoring our transmissions.”

“Good.” Adama said. “I’m not frakking around.”

One of the crew handed Picard the latest readings. He sighed. “Be aware, Admiral, that there are some unusual readings coming from your ship. It may be transport signatures… the Romulans are much better at masking.” It wasn’t unexpected but it was concerning. Shivar clearly understood just how hard he could push without crossing the line. A direct attack would not be tolerated, but a quick bit of technological theft from a ship that wasn’t yet allied… No doubt Shivar already saw the FTL drive as a potential threat to the Empire.

It was, of course, which only made his actions more understandable.

There was silence on the comm line. Finally, “If he wants to dance,” Adama said, his voice a low growl, “he’s welcome to join the party. But I doubt he’ll like our steps.” The comm line crackled as the transmission ended.

Picard smiled wryly. He suspected Shivar had no idea what sort of hell pit he’d just beamed his men into.

~*~

The sound tickled his memory but he pushed it aside. The ship was almost ready and he could feel the stress in the metallic structure releasing. “Just a little bit more,” he whispered as he touched the primitive computers. Not for the first time, he wondered what touching, feeling, a Cylon basestar would be like, but he forced that thought away as well. He needed to concentrate and the Galactica, in its way, was jealous of other ships. Part of her stubbornness was because he had been taken to the new, fancier ship that seemed to impress everyone.

It’s not that nice, he soothed. You’re bigger than her and she doesn’t jump. She’s very jealous of the jump. You’ll leave her behind. And the new ship is bad. It wants to hurt people and you want to help the people. Jumping is help.

He just wished he wasn’t so tired. That made the Galactica nervous, as nervous as a giant, essentially brain dead hunk of metal could get, and that made the whole process take longer. Which made him more tired, and the real problems for him started once the Galactica jumped and it was difficult to ignore. Gaeta put his hands on the flickering computer bank and tried again. Please jump, he thought as he envisioned the coordinates and how they were entered and acted on. Everyone wants you to jump. You want to jump.

“Sir?”

He bit back a curse. Venner was religious, which was irritating, and worse, Venner seemed to think he was doing something magical. That wasn’t going to help, particularly if there was a court martial.

“Sir!” Suddenly Venner was grabbing him and shoving him into a hatchway. Venner’s eyes were wide. Not frightened, but surprised. “Sir, those aliens… didn’t you hear it?”

And suddenly Gaeta realized he had heard it. A transporter, but not a Federation model. He peaked out of the hatchway and wasn’t surprised to see three Romulans holding weapons and their version of a tricorder. One of them went to the computer banks Gaeta had just been working with and began to speak. His Romulan was very rusty, but he was certain of what they were doing, or at least trying. They were there to steal. He looked at Venner. “They’re Romulans… They’re dangerous.”

Venner’s eyes seemed to light up with fire. “They can’t be allowed to interfere with the test.”

“Test? Venner, listen to me, they’re trying to steal the FTL drive.” Which was impossible from where they were, but it would take them some time and likely some colonial lives. But even as he spoke, Venner was moving. The man jumped into the walkway and opened fire, spraying the corridor with explosive rounds. For a moment, Gaeta thought it had worked, and then he saw the disruptor blast slam into Venner’s armor. Venner dropped his rifle and collapsed and Gaeta grabbed it without even thinking and looked down the corridor. Only one of the Romulans was still standing and there was green blood splattered on his uniform. He spotted Gaeta and began to raise his disruptor.

No, Gaeta decided suddenly, I am not getting killed after all of this by a damn Romulan. He fired. Venner had the weapon on automatic and the Romulan went down. Gaeta dropped the rifle and went to Venner’s side. He was amazed to see the young marine was still alive. Romulans rarely set their weapons to stun, and Venner’s armor was melted. He knelt down to the man’s side. “You’re going to be all right….”

“The test…” Venner grabbed him by his uniform and pulled him close. “Athena’s child will test you. It’s coming…I’m sorry…”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” Gaeta said. He was no doctor, but it looked bad and there was no way he could haul Venner to medical care. Then he had an idea. He took off his combadge and put it on Venner. “Listen to me. There’s nothing to be sorry about and in a minute, you’re going to be transported to the Enterprise and you’ll be all right.”

“No,” Venner said. “I brought you here to be tested. It’s my role…To bring Apollo’s child to the test.”

“I’m not Apollo’s child…”Gaeta said tiredly. He started to take off the wrist monitor. “When I set this on you, it’s going to take you to the Enterprise. You need to tell them that the Romulans have boarded.” Because there had to be more than one boarding party.

“I will…” Venner took the wrist monitor. “The Arrow is coming for you, sir…..” He suddenly disappeared in a Federation transport wave.

“Great,” Gaeta said as he stood up. Venner was never going to see him as anything but the physical fulfillment of a prophecy. That was wonderful. But not the most important issue and without Venner there, he didn’t have to worry how it looked. He went back to the computer panel, careful to step over the bodies and put his hands down on the metal. Then he closed his eyes. It was easier to see the connections, to walk the ship through it, if he closed his eyes.

“Are you praying, Gaeta? Praying to the gods? Or just praying I don‘t kill you?”

He jumped and opened his eyes. Kara Thrace was standing in the corridor, her sidearm in her hand. Of course, he thought tiredly. Venner was a believer, and the prophecy said there would be a test.

And Kara was the Arrow of Apollo.

Fic - "Going Native part 57"

2008-06-24T14:59:33Z

Woo! Part 57! Going Native! Gaeta the lost Starfleet officer! BSG/STNG crossover, fairly Gen, focused on sweet Mr. Gaeta. Enjoy!

Sgt. Venner kept his hands on his rifle, one finger on the trigger, and the thumb on the same hand tight against the rifle’s safety. It was standard procedure, how a marine carried a rifle in a crowd that was calm, but potentially violent. He looked over the various people in the CIC alertly.

It made Felix nervous. Ostensibly Venner was “assisting” him and Lt. Alghee, but it was clear that Venner’s idea of assistance was watching for assassins. It was ostentatious, it drew even more attention to him, and ultimately Felix was certain it wouldn’t work. If someone really wanted to kill him in the CIC, he had no doubt that it could happen. Boomer had proven that point years earlier. He wasn’t afraid of being killed, not really. He wasn’t suicidal, he knew that, but he was worried about two things. First, that someone was going to make the attempt to kill him, and that it would end up killing other people. Venner was going to shoot, he didn’t doubt that at all, and there were a lot of people in the CIC. The other fear he had was that he *would* be killed, and before the Galactica was convinced to jump. The commands would wear off eventually. If there was time, if they were already deep in Federation territory, the wait wouldn’t matter, but the Romulans were watching and waiting. If he was killed before he released the commands, the Galactica would be dead in the water.

He didn’t think that would happen. He wasn’t religious and he certainly didn’t believe in the idea that the Scroll of Apollo was a prophecy from his grandfather. That was ridiculous and massively egotistical. At the same time, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something had been manipulating things. It had been the luck of the draw that he had been the one sent out in the runabout that day so long ago. He had been the first to show up for duty, with no idea that Lt. Cmdr. Krepovich was even planning an experiment. If he had stopped for a coffee instead of making sure to be early, he wouldn’t have been in the runabout at all. Krepovich had been annoyed that his assistant, a lieutenant, was late and wanted to teach the woman a lesson by letting one of the raw ensigns do the experiment. For years, he had thought it was bad luck, followed by some good, that he had been lost in the Beta quadrant but lucky enough to find a human culture. Then the Cylons had attacked and things had gotten… odd. He didn’t believe in God or gods, but too many things had fallen into place. There were too many coincidences, too many things that hadn’t seemed unusual by themselves but once he put the pieces together… something was going on. Someone, or something, was manipulating the colonials through the story in the Scroll of Apollo. Possibly to save them.

Which meant that he would fix the Galactica. At least in theory. He looked at the FTL workstation, and tried to ignore the obvious stares. “It seems to be working just fine here,” he said to Alghee.

“It does everything right until we start to spin the drive,” Alghee said earnestly. “Then it just… doesn’t go.” She managed to look puzzled, worried, nervous, and cheerful all at once. He made sure to smile back at her. He liked Lindsay Alghee, he had been the one to recommend her to the CIC after New Caprica, but she was clearly overwhelmed by her new job. Of course, she had been in the unlucky position of having to take over all of his duties. She was bright, and eager, and he was beginning to think that she had a touch of hero worship for him. Or a crush. She quickly moved to his side. “What should we do?”

“Let me take a look,” he said as he pulled open the console. He could feel the eyes of everyone in CIC on him, and despite himself, he blushed. It was fortunate in many ways that using his abilities was in appearance at least, a very mundane thing to watch. He put his hands down into the console and concentrated.

It’s ok to jump. You did everything right and everyone is happy. I’m very happy with you. I said not to jump and you did that just right but now I need you to jump…

He could feel the metal balking at his commands, balking so much it he almost winced from the force of it. The Galactica was a stiff, slow system, it was old and clunky and colonial technology was such that even a ship like the Pegasus didn’t have the personality that Federation ships had. The Galactica had always been challenging to control because it just didn’t have the ability to understand anything but the most simple requests, and it was very… colonial in its simple mindset. He had spent months prepping it for the “don’t jump” command and even though it was balking, he could already feel it unclenching its grip. Someone had helped already, he could feel that too, that the Galactica had already praised with a loving hand, and resented his touch. Resented that he had given the command and then left, leaving the Galactica alone, still obeying the command despite how much the crew begged and pleaded.

It would take time and a lot of nudging and apologizing. But it wasn’t impossible and it was easier to ask because the Galactica *wanted* to jump. His command went against its nature, that was why the command would wear off on its own, but he could make it go faster. It was just going to take longer than the hour that Picard wanted. At best two. More like three or four. He was tired, that was the biggest problem. The trick with the Cylon Centurion had depleted him more than he thought. He had eaten and slept, but he wasn’t in best form, not at all. And while he suspected that he could talk the Galactica into jumping from the CIC, he just didn’t feel like being stared at.

“All right… I’ll need to check out the computer banks and the engine itself.” That meant fewer people around for certain, and it let him shake one of the babysitters fairly easily. “Lt. Alghee I want you to stay here and monitor the station. It will take at least an hour but we need someone here to make sure that as soon as the drive comes on line, we can jump. This will need to be fast.” He put his hand on her shoulder. “You’ll be fine. You are better at this than anyone. Don’t worry.” More quietly, he added, “Just think… you’ll be able to tell your kids that you were the one who made the last jump to safety.”

Alghee’s sudden smile could have lit up the entire ship, of that he was positive.
~*~

Venner was honored to be chosen. His only sadness was that his parents weren’t alive to see the honor he had received. He understood what the president’s official wireless announcement was trying to accomplish, and he didn’t approve but fortunately there would be time in the future for the colonists to really understand how the gods had blessed them all. In the mean time, he was honored to guard Apollo’s child. Honored and amused at how Felix Gaeta, of all people, had turned out to be their savior.

It was the will of the gods, of course, and Venner was just pleased to know that he had a part in the story. The Scroll of Apollo made it very clear that there was danger for the child of Apollo. Perhaps it was ordained that the child of Apollo was to be rescued, and perhaps not. The scrolls were clear that there would be a confrontation, a testing, with the Arrow of Apollo, and no assurances that Apollo’s child survived. But the prophecy had to be brought to its conclusion, the priestess on the Geminon Traveler had made that very clear. The very fact that a believer had been chosen to guard Gaeta was a sign.

Although Gaeta was acting strange. Venner had only dealt with the man on rare occasions. A stickler in inspections and not one for excuses, but pleasant enough. Something was clearly upsetting him though, as he strode through the increasingly quiet corridors of the ship. Occasionally he would stop and touch the metal walls, seeming almost to pray. Venner didn’t ask questions. Apollo was a healing god, and the Galactica was ill. And if it was odd and almost Cylonish that Gaeta’s god given powers seemed to revolve around machines and not people, Venner had to assume that it was Apollo’s way of providing for the future of humanity. It was just starting to make him nervous that Gaeta was muttering under his breath, wiping his forehead, and all in all looking like a man that was scared beyond belief. “Are you all right sir?”

“I’m just tired,” Gaeta said after a moment. “I shouldn’t have…. What the hell?” He pointed to the wall.

Venner looked. “It’s a mural.” It raised the hackles on his neck. “It’s the vortex from the Temple of Jupiter.” It was a warning, although he didn’t say it out loud. The confrontation was coming and his real job was not to keep Gaeta safe but to make sure that the testing occurred. He didn’t envy Gaeta at all. There were several possible ends to the story, and most ended badly for the child of Apollo.

His shoulder radio crackled. “Sgt. Venner, report your status,” the admiral barked.

“We’re down near the FTL core.” He looked at Gaeta. He had no idea what the status of the repairs were.

Gaeta tapped the Starfleet badge on his uniform and it chimed, obviously hooking into the wireless system. “Sir, it’s not… as bad as I thought but it will be at least another hour.”

“The civilian fleet and Cylon basestar will jump in two minutes.” Admiral Adama’s voice was clear and sharp. “Be prepared for possible hostile action.”

Venner nodded. The Romulans might board, and that would interrupt the confrontation. “Don’t worry, sir,” he said to Gaeta. “If I see any aliens, I’ll shoot.”

For a moment Gaeta looked at him with surprise. Then he laughed. “Sgt. Venner… One day I hope you’ll know why that is the funniest thing anyone has ever said to me. I’d explain it right now, if I wasn’t positive that the Romulans will board us.” He began to walk away.

Venner followed, his rifle ready. Gaeta was acting oddly, but he was the child of Apollo and had to be protected.
~*~

Fic - "Going Native part 56"

2008-06-17T01:02:32Z

Here' s part 56 :) It's a BSG/STNG crossover and I swear there's no Planet of the Apes reveal. But things are gathering and coming into focus.....

Lee had to admit, there was a big part of him that was glad to be back on the Galactica. The Enterprise was very plush and the people were very pleasant and in a way it was like staying in a very nice hotel. It was fun, and interesting, something he sensed he could get used to easily, but he sensed that there was one fight left for the fleet before they were truly safe. He didn’t want to be sitting in comfort on the Enterprise for that. The military wasn’t going to be his life, he could sense that doors were already starting to open, not just for him, but for everyone, but he wanted to be on the Galactica for the last fight.

He looked at the pilots assembled in the briefing room and for just a moment his vision wavered. He knew them all, of course. There weren’t many pilots he hadn’t help train, only a rare few who had been among the original crew when the attack on Caprica had occurred. He let himself smile. It was good to be home.

“As you all know, there is a Romulan ship observing the fleet.” He made sure to school his features to look more intent. There were a lot of smiles on the faces of the pilots and he didn’t want that at all. Over confidence could kill and they were too damn close to real safety to have anyone die. “The fleet will soon be jumping to a position deeper in Federation. The Galactica will jump as soon as the FTL drive is ready, but that may take some time. There is a possibility that the Romulans will try to board the Galactica using the transport technology that they and the Federation possess. As our ships would be useless against the Romulan weapons, the Admiral has given us a different task. The marines are currently taking up armed positions all over the ship. We will be formed into two person roaming patrols.” He paused. “We are not taking prisoners.” He tapped the large photo of a typical Romulan. “Take a good look. Romulans look very much like Vulcans, although obviously they wear different uniforms. The Vulcan Starfleet personnel are with Dr. Cottle in medical. They will be in uniform and they will identify themselves as Starfleet. However its unlikely to be a problem since we will be patrolling the lower decks. Mr. Worf will brief us on the basic attributes of Romulan soldiers.”

Worf stepped up to the podium. He glared out at the assembled pilots. “A Romulan Centurian is a formidable enemy. Like Vulcans, they are stronger and faster than humans, and unlike Vulcans, they embrace their emotions. A Romulan is clever and insidious. They will plead for mercy if cornered and then stab you with concealed weapons. They are not to be trusted.”

“So,” one of the pilots called out, “Where’s the best place to shoot?”

It made Lee smile despite it all.
~*~

Reg fumbled with the phaser and dropped it. It clanged on the metal floor and he dove to pick it up but it skidded on the bulkhead into a dark, metallic hole. By the time he had pried it out of the hole in the decking, the group of Starfleet officers had turned into the maze of corridors and disappeared.

Ok, he told himself, this isn’t a big deal. Sure, there was a Romulan ship eying the Galactica, but really, it seemed unlikely that the Romulans would board. He was smart, he knew where he was supposed to be and there were supposed to be roaming patrols of pilots. The Galactica was huge but simply laid out. I’m not a child, Reg told himself, I can find the civilian quarters.

But fifteen minutes later, he found himself staring at the corridor, wondering where he was. Don’t panic, he told himself as he started to hyperventilate. Just because Kara had joked about nuggets getting lost in the bowels of the ship and only mummified remains ever being found, that didn’t mean it was true. Let’s try just following a corridor, he decided. That worked until the corridor ended at a split. Left or right or go back, he wondered nervously.

“Mad Dog?” Reg jumped at the sound and turned around. He had been so involved in where he was going, he hadn’t noticed the three pilots coming up behind him. One was Racetrack, who he knew and who had used his call sign, and the other two were young men who looked just out of their teens. Racetrack smiled at him. “Aren’t you supposed to be with the other Starfleet people? Defending the civilians and all that?”

“I uh… got separated….” He knew better than say he’d gotten lost. It hadn’t escaped him how the colonials found people getting lost on the Galactica to be hilarious. He could see Racetrack pick that up with a knowing look although the two young men seemed to accept it at face value.

“Ok, why don’t you help me out?” She gestured to the two men. “We’re supposed to be in teams but I ended up odd man out. We could make another roaming patrol.”

“Yeah,” one of the young men said, “We need the help.”

“Besides,” Ractrack said, “You’re one of us, not one of them anyway. You’ve got a call sign and everything.”

“Right,” the other young pilot said. “You don’t want to go hide with the civilians do you?”

“Well….” He really didn’t have a problem with defending the civilians against a possible Romulan attack.

“Come on,” Racetrack said, grabbing his arm. “Mad Dog is with me. We’ll head down this way.” She pulled him down the right hand corridor, and he realized after a moment that she was trying not to laugh. Finally she said, between chuckles, “Do you know how many times I’ve had to ditch people in the last two weeks?”

“At least twice that I know of,” he replied, “Are you sure you don’t want to ditch me? I did get lost.”

She swatted him playfully. “I know you got lost, Reg. And no, I like you. You can carry a conversation about something other than my breasts or how good a pilot you are. Have you read the Lord of the Rings?”

“Yes. You know, there’s more books… The Silmarillon, and the histories of Middle Earth.” He grinned shyly as Racetrack’s face lit up.

“There’s more books?” Racetrack grabbed him and pulled him down the corridor. “So obviously while we wait for the Romulans to attack, you and I are going to discuss this. Do you think they’ll attack? I was wondering what someone from Starfleet who wasn’t… you know, on the spot.”

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “They’re aggressive, but they aren’t mindless. I… I was never very good at this sort of question. It could happen if they think the FTL is worth taking.” He paused. “It *is* worth taking. There’s a lot of things worth taking though.”

“Really?” Racetrack asked. “I had the impression you guys were… Being pretty polite about how nasty and primitive things are here. I mean… you’ve seen the showers. It’s pretty gross.”

“I know,” and he shuddered despite himself. “But the FTL drive is really valuable. And so are other things.”

“Like what?” SHe was so honestly perplexed, he almost smiled.

He touched the shoulder of her flight suit. “Like this. Your flight suits are… amazing. It’s like comfortable clothing that you can wear in space. The FTL drive is going to buy your people a lot of good will, but a space suit with thin gloves and hardly any bulk? I mentioned it in my report.” He was surprised at how easy it was to talk to Racetrack.

She smiled at him and took his hand. “I like you, Reg. You think about things that I never would have considered.” They settled into a companionable silence until they turned the corner.

On the wall of the corridor was a large mural. Reg wasn’t one for art, but it was a powerful image. One he didn’t expect to find on the Galactica. “That’s… odd.”

“It’s new,” Racetrack said, her soft tone gone. She touched a corner. “The paint is wet.” She looked at it. “I’ve seen this….”

“You have?” He looked at her with real curiosity. “You’ve seen a wormhole?”

“A what? No…Reg, this is from the scripture.” She looked at it more intently. “I’ve seen this. In the Scrolls… in a lot of the scrolls, there are symbols on the pages, like illustrations. Some people think they are clues to how the prophecies will really unfold. I saw this in the Scroll of Apollo. That’s the one that everyone is reading. Because of Lt. Gaeta.”

He had picked up the basics of the story and the pieces seemed to coalesce as he stared at the painting. “Racetrack… Margeret…. This is what a wormhole looks like. A wormhole is…. It’s how Felix ended up in the colonies. A wormhole opened up while he was running an experiment in a runabout and it opened up and swallowed up his ship…..”

“No,” Racetrack said. “ I mean, I know that, but this… is a symbol of a vortex. It was in the Temple of Jupiter.” She hesitated. “Look, I’m not religious. I never went to the temple unless my parents made me. But…. There’s *something* going on here. We found Kobol… and Athena’s Tomb led us to Earth, and however it happened, that was prophesized. I don’t think Felix Gaeta is some god… he fraks up too much… But this…” she gestured to the swirling void. “It was prophesized. And a lot of it has come true, and… there’s a lot of endings to this. And a lot of them aren’t good. Things are in motion.”

The question, Reg realized, was whether they could do anything to affect the outcome.

Attention F-list and Anonymousies!

2008-06-16T19:52:23Z

I have established a new journal for my upcoming origanal content fic tentatively titled "Enter the Zone" - a tale of the Explorer Corps!*

explorer_corps

Right now it's just musing on the world building aspects but eventually there will be story. If you're interested, go have a look. There will be another announcement when there's actual story up.

"XCORPS LEADS THE WAY!"

*this in no way negatively affects Going Native or the completion of said Going Native.

Alpha and Omega part 62 "A Frakking Idiot"

2008-06-10T13:04:10Z

Part 62!

Title - "A Frakking Idiot"
Prompt - Spring 062
Word Count - 708
Summary - Kara gets mad at someone
Author's note - Big table fic - here's the link http://rapfic.livejournal.com/8449.html#cutid1

“Cylons,” she whispered to Gaeta. She didn’t point, and he didn’t do more than move his eyes, his body perfectly still. The heavy raider disgorged Centurions into the overgrown lawn of the main courtyard.

“You have to go first,” Gaeta whispered, his hand gesturing to the open door that led back down into the monastery’s basement level. It almost made her bristle in rage but she bit it back. She had the scepter so she had to get away even though her natural instinct was to send Gaeta first and back up his retreat.

And he knew that, she realized as she crawled through the brush. He was as bad as Sam, worse really because he had intentionally manipulated her like a master, and she hadn’t even noticed it. He knew she would insist on covering his retreat, and that was why he had stuffed the scepter in her ruck. She wondered how much of it was Gaeta, and how much of it was the training he was clearly falling back on. Both and neither, she realized as she looked back at him. He *had* flipped his personality, and she suspected it startled him more than it startled her, but that glint of cold icy logic she spotted in his eyes had been softened by something. She wasn’t sure what. It had been a long time, but she had met SRT vets before. Arrogant about their abilities, and clubbish, almost snobby. Like pilots in other words, except that they made it plain that there was only one way to join the club. They had their own little hierarchy of alpha and beta wolves, and she had the sense that Felix hadn’t been above it at the time. No, she suspected that he hadn’t been the mild ‘I don’t care what people think’ at all. She suspected that Felix Gaeta had embraced that side of himself, probably harder than he should have, just to prove himself. It was where the coldness in his combat personality came from, and she had enough of it herself to see the value.

But at the same time, he was protecting her. He had put the scepter in her ruck intentionally so that she would be forced to retreat. Because he knew she would put the mission first. The numbers the scepter had shown, she knew it was important. He knew it was important.

She just couldn’t fathom what he was thinking, beyond preserving her as the pilot. It wasn’t as though he couldn’t fly the Raptor himself. He wasn’t good, but he could manage. It was the sort of nonsense she expected from Lee or Sam.

Ignore it, she told herself. I’ll figure it out on the Galactica. She slid up to the stone wall and readied her rifle. It was Felix’s turn to maneuver through the brush, and she was seconds from the safety of the cellar and the tunnels. She wasn’t going to just cut and run and hope he caught up.

“Come on,” she whispered as Felix edged his way closer. The Centurions were numerous but they were concentrated closer to the main temple. She stepped back, against the wall and the open door, hanging heavy on its hinges and springs, slowly began to close. The whine in the springs felt like a gunshot to her ears even as she grabbed the door. All of the Centurions spun around and looked directly at her. Oh frak, she thought.

“Frak!” She turned to see Felix pop up out of the brush. He pointed to the wooded hillside. “Get down! I’ll take the scepter and come back for you!” And with that he was off like a shot, running to the steep cliffs and diving for cover.

“Son of a bitch!” she cried as she ran into the dark cellar, but she didn’t stop or turn around. The bastard had stolen her job. She was the foolhardy idiot that ran into the guns, and he had manipulated her away from it. Make it count, she told herself as the gunfire started. He’s smart, he’ll get down the mountainside.

And if he didn’t, she would have to do something about it. Just so she could call him out as a frakking idiot.

Alpha and Omega part 61 "For Earth"

2008-06-10T12:58:39Z

Part 61!

Title - "For Earth"
Prompt - Winter 061
Word Count - 315
Summary - Gaeta gets all sentimental
Author's note - Big Table Fic - I recommend reading in order it makes more sense. Go here.
http://rapfic.livejournal.com/8449.html#cutid1

The temple grounds were overgrown with the thick vegetation of summer. He didn’t want to let it distract him but even without the monks gentle tending, the gardens were verdant green, and filled with the bright colors of flowers. He missed flowers. His mother had liked flowers and had gardened extensively. Reading feeds the mind, she had often said, but growing flowers tends the soul. She had always kept a small portion of the greenhouse devoted to flowers, so that even in the dead of winter, there were fresh flowers in their home. On the table, to greet guests, to welcome, and to make it home.

“Wait,” he said as they trotted by one of the sheds. He opened one of the familiar built in bins, recognizing the design, and saw what he was looking for. Seeds and bulbs.

“What are you doing?” Kara hissed as he opened her rucksack and began dropping handfuls of the precious find into it.

He held up one of the bulbs. “Flower bulbs and seeds. It won’t add even a pound…” But it was her pack.

She eyed him. “Flowers….”

“For the ships…” He hesitated. He didn’t know what the coordinates meant, he didn’t know if it was a wild goose chase or not but, “We should take them. For Earth. So we have something to remind us.”

Her expression softened just a little. “Gods the recruiters frakked up on you, Felix. Flowers… every time I have you figured out…” Her head jerked suddenly, like a dog that had heard something that a human couldn’t. She reached into the bin and grabbed big handfuls, spilling some to the ground and shoving them into his knapsack as well. “They’re coming, I know it. So we need to run. Let’s go.”

They were running back to the residential buildings when he finally heard the low whine of Cylon ships flying.

Fic - "Going Native part 55"

2008-06-04T13:04:57Z

Woo! Its part 55! Yay! We're close to the end! And I promise no one gets their legs cut off!
Going Native is a BSG/STNG crossover!

Bill Adama stepped into his quarters. He wasn’t surprised to find Cmdr. Riker there, and Captain Gaeta waiting. The new ship, the Romulan ship, was one of the Federation’s enemies and it was used to fighting ships that were armed like the Enterprise. Which meant the entire fleet was in danger if the Romulans decided to attack. “When is Captain Picard going to send Mr. Gaeta over?”

They were at the point where he was tired of dancing around it.

Riker nodded, his expression grim. “He intends to transport Cmdr. Gaeta and Major Adama here. To your quarters.”

Transport. That would certainly be less obvious than sending a shuttlecraft, and quicker, if he understood the process, but…”Can’t that be tracked? By the Romulans? And interfered with?”

“It can be, but it’s highly unlikely that the Romulans would find two crewmen transporting that interesting.” Riker said as he took a seat on the leather couch. “They’re more likely to listen to the chatter between the ships which is why Captain Picard is being very careful with what he says. We’ll be getting a quick update of the plan from Mr. Gaeta, I’m certain.”

“Then I’ll transport to my ship.” Sophia said easily. “The Romulans will be suspicious but frankly, that’s their natural setting. I’m surprised they didn’t show themselves sooner.”

It was unstated that Riker and Picard, and Bill himself for that matter, assumed the Romulans could listen in to their wireless broadcasts. Not that they would hear very much that was interesting. Emergency jump coordinates had been dispersed to the fleet several days ago, it was just a matter of telling them which set to use. Riker’s combadge chimed. Bill waited patiently as the man discussed the transport. He had seen a video example of transporting. He wasn’t entirely comfortable with the idea yet.

There was a sudden flash of light, followed by colorful sparkling that slowly materialized into two forms, and then became Lee and Felix Gaeta. Lee looked surprised just for a moment and then grinned boyishly. “ Helo was right, that does feel great.” He drew himself up to a position of attention. “Admiral Adama, I respectfully suggest we ask for a transporter at some point.”
Riker smirked at that, but Adama ignored it. Lee seemed well. Worried looking but no worse for wear from having been deconstructed down to the atomic level and reassembled, if he understood the transporter technology correctly. In fact Lee looked… refreshed. Enlivened somehow. As if a heavy burden had been lifted and of course it had.

Which made Lee a startling contrast to Gaeta. It was jarring to see Gaeta in the uniform of a Starfleet officer. More jarring that the man looked physically ill. Worse, Gaeta looked like he expected to be yelled at. Of course he expected to be yelled at, Adama thought with more than a little regret. The last time you saw the man, you were ready to pound him bloody. Between the anger he’d shown, and the previous murder attempts by the crew, it was no wonder Gaeta looked terrified.

“Major Adama… Cmdr. Gaeta, it’s good to see you both. I assume you have a plan to advise me on?” He wasn’t surprised to see them both tense.

“I’m here to assist in fixing the FTL drive, sir” Gaeta said after a moment. “Unfortunately, I don’t know how long that will take, and Captain Picard is concerned that the longer we stay here the more likely that the Romulans will want to investigate the fleet.” He paused. “While it’s possible this Romulan ship is by itself… It’s very likely that there are other Romulan ships in the area.”

“They have stealth technology,” Lee added, and over his shoulder, Bill saw Riker and Sophia Gaeta nodding to that. “The plan is to have the Tom Dooley warp to the emergency jump coordinates that we’ve already distributed to the fleet. Once the Cylon basestar is able to jump, then it and the fleet will jump to the Tom Dooley’s position. That’s deeper within Federation space and there are other Federation ships moving to that position as well, so even if the Romulans were able to track the fleet, they are not likely to follow us deeper into Federation space.”

“Right now they can excuse their presence as curiosity,” Riker added. “Moving deeper into Federation space would be considered an act of war.”

“The Enterprise would stay here with the Galactica, until the Galactica is ready to jump. Captain Picard wants to time this so that we’re not sitting here for a lengthy amount of time.” Lee glanced at Gaeta. “For safety reasons, Captain Picard thinks the fleet should move as soon as possible. The condition of the civilian ships means that it would take very little for the Romulan ship to cause a lot of damage. The problem is the time between the fleet jumping and the Galactica jumping.”

“And how long will that be, Mr. Gaeta?” Adama asked.

“I don’t know,” Gaeta said. “It might be hours. It is certainly safer for the civilian fleet to jump ahead. Romulans can be very aggressive.”

“And sneaky,” Riker added, “ and the second the Romulans see the jump, they will understand that it has value. At the same time, there’s over fifty ships in this fleet and many of them are in poor condition. The Enterprise can handle one Romulan war bird easily. This is one of their older ships. However, it’s possible that there’s two or three more that we aren’t seeing.”

“Moving the civilian fleet removes targets,” Adama mused. “But the Romulans will become much more interested in the Galactica once they see the jump.” He saw the necessity though and Picard’s reasoning. He only wished the civilians on the Galactica could be moved without raising suspicion. It was unrealistic and impossible though. By the time the three hundred or so civilians were even organized to leave, the civilian fleet would already be jumping. “How likely is it that the Romulans will board us?

If they were aggressive and if they had the same transporters, then they would board. It was the obvious plan, the first thing he’d do himself if he had that sort of technology.

“That would be an act of war,” Riker said after a moment of thought. “They’re aggressive, but they don’t want a war with the Federation.”

“They wouldn’t get one by boarding the Galactica, sir.” Gaeta turned to Riker. “There’s no treaty with the people of the Twelve Colonies and even if President Roslin did sign it right now, it would be arguable how legal an action that is. If they’ve been monitoring transmissions then they know they aren’t dealing with Federation members. We’re close enough to the border that they could argue that it was a mistake later.” He looked back at Adama. “Under those circumstances, they might consider boarding. To see if the technology could be stolen. I doubt they have the personnel in an older war bird for an actual take over.”

“If there’s more than one war bird though,” Riker stood up and paced. “That’s a good thought Mr. Gaeta.” To Adama he said, ”Our people do have hand held phasers.”

“My people are armed as well.” Sophia added.

A nice offer, Bill thought, but he wasn’t going to risk the ship based on the notion that forty or so Starfleet officers with sidearms would save the ship. Particularly since most of them were medical personnel. Doctors and nurses weren’t by nature the best in a fight. “I’ve got plenty of men and women who can patrol the ship.” Still, it was rude to dismiss it. “I’d like your people to center their attention on the civilian population. I’d hate for us to be so close and have something happen to the civilians on board.” He’d also hate explaining how some Starfleet officer got killed on his ship. “Major Adama, I want you to get everyone organized. Anyone who has a sidearm needs to get it. I want roaming patrols of marines through out the ship, and I want the pilots to join them. They aren’t going to be needed to fly if there’s an attack. Mr. Gaeta, where will you need to go to… fix the FTL drive?”

Gaeta looked embarrassed. “ I don’t know… the CIC to start but I think I’ll need to see the actual drive.”

Which told Adama something that the Starfleet officers wouldn’t realize. Felix Gaeta had many duties on board the Galactica and none of them involved him working in the bowels of the ship. “A marine escort has been arranged.” He looked at the small group. “I think we all have things we need to do. Mr. Gaeta, I want a word with you. Privately.”

Riker looked annoyed but didn’t say anything. Sophia Gaeta patted Felix as she walked by but said nothing, and Lee managed to look stressed and worried. “We don’t have a lot of time, sir.”

“I’m aware of that, Major.” He waited until he heard the hatch door close to turn his attention back to Gaeta. He leaned against his desk. “So what did you do to my ship, Mr. Gaeta?”

“I… told it to stop. And not to jump again until I say it’s all right.” Gaeta crossed his arms and looked down at his feet. “It’s not easy to explain. The term scientists use is technopathy. It‘s an ability I have… because of my non human ancestry.”

“On New Caprica, it’s how you gained access to the communication codes.” He waited until Gaeta nodded. “You told President Roslin you were transmitting jump coordinates this way.”

“Yes. Not always but when the jumps needed to be done fast….” Gaeta continued to look down. “I didn’t mean for this to happen, sir. I thought… the ship always fought me on this command. I knew it would stop the jump process but I thought… that it would wear off. I know that’s made things more difficult to negotiate.”

Interesting. “Mr. Gaeta, are you apologizing for bringing us to Earth?” That was almost humorous.

Gaeta looked at him with surprise. “I’m apologizing because I created a problem that you can’t fix, sir. Because not telling you what I had done and what I had planned left you in an awkward position. I should have trusted you with my secret and my plan.”

Adama made a point of taking out two glasses from his desk and poured two drinks of ambrosia. “It has occurred to me lately, Mr. Gaeta, that I have neglected your education as an officer.” He handed one of the glasses to Gaeta and sipped his own. “Never apologize for making the right decision. You made the right decision.”

“Sir?” Gaeta eyed him nervously.

“You made the right decision. Going to President Roslin and playing on her religious beliefs… I would have locked you up in the brig if you told me you were some part alien from Earth, but not before I had Cottle give you a few electroshocks to the brain to make you see reason. And then where would we have all ended up?” He had thought about that, more than once after Roslin had explained what she had known.

“Romulan camps…” Gaeta suddenly gulped his drink down. “New Caprica would have been a picnic.”

“You were right about that too,” Adama said after a moment. “Not entirely right…but close enough that it doesn’t matter. If you had told me about the Circle… I would have made sure you were telling the truth, and everyone would have gotten a warning, and nothing more. I needed everyone working, and the president had already pardoned everyone.” He didn’t think he needed to be more blunt. Pilots had been needed more than junior bridge officers, and Gaeta had always made a point of stepping back when a truly ambitious officer would have stepped forward. “Why weren’t you a pilot? Seems like this gift you have would let you be a pretty good viper pilot.”

He had a suspicion why.

“I would have been too good,” Gaeta said after a moment. “People would have been curious. Medically there’s a number of things about my physiology that would be… anomalous and I couldn’t take the risk of exposing the Twelve Colonies to the reality that non human life forms exist. And it was never my intent to have a lengthy military career in the colonial military. I can hide my abilities but not if I attract attention. The best way to avoid attention is to be average, and there’s no way to mask ability in a Viper cockpit. Without getting killed.”

“ You don’t seem happy to not be hiding,” Adama observed. The only person he’d seen look less happy recently was Kara, and Kara was a whole different problem.

Gaeta shrugged. “ I doubt you would understand, sir.”

“Give it a try,” Adama said as he refreshed their drinks. He was aware of the time ticking by, but the situation wasn’t going to get dire until the civilian fleet jumped. He wanted to make sure he was about to make the right decision.

“Everyone knows my name,” Gaeta said softly. “Everyone knows *what* I am. If you don’t know me, you can read scientific papers about me, and about what I can do, and about my entire family. Admiral Kirk killing my grandfather is a fleet legend. Until I was twenty three, I can’t remember a week going by without someone wanting a demonstration of something. I’m different, I’m genetically superior to a human being, I have talents that don’t exist in the human race, and on Earth, it’s not necessarily a good thing to be.” He gulped down the second drink. “My parents always made being different a badge of honor, but the truth sir? Most people are interested in what I am, and not who I am. And then a wormhole opened up while I was doing an experiment in a runabout, and I ended up on the wrong side of the Beta Quadrant with people who had no idea what I was. I had to hide, and maybe… it was scary and hard, but living on Caprica, being a marine and then a deck officer on the Valkyrie and the Galactica… It was the first time I could ever be someone in the crowd. If I did or didn’t have friends, if I got promoted or not… it was because of me, and not because someone wanted my talents around. And then the Cylons attacked, and I had to make a choice, and I hesitated.” He look at Adama intently. “We shouldn’t have stopped at New Caprica, and if I had tried, I probably could have convinced you. But I didn’t, because I didn’t want to interfere, the Prime Directive may sound cruel but it’s there for a reason…. After New Caprica, I knew where we were going and I decided that enough people had died so I told President Roslin who I really was. Now everyone knows… I heard there’s a lot of religious upheaval already.” He shrugged. “ I really should get to work, sir…”

Guilt, Adama realized. Felix Gaeta felt guilty for not doing enough. “Dr. Baltar made an accusation against you. To the Betazed ambassador. That you gave him a notebook of jump coordinates and technical drawings.”

Gaeta’s eyes widened in surprise. “I did what?” Then he seemed to reach back for the memory. “I… thought… I was really out of it….But that could have happened.” If anything, Gaeta looked relieved. “He gave the notebook to the Federation ambassador?”

“No. He said it was in his papers in the research lab.” Adama looked at him. “I haven’t allowed any access to the lab. I can see to it that there’s nothing to find.” Roslin was right. Gaeta didn’t deserve a prison sentence for saving them.

“But…” Gaeta looked both surprised and touched. “They’ll know you’re hiding something if you’ve restricted access. I don’t know where it is, you’d have to tear the room apart.” He straightened up. “It’s my problem sir.”

“You don’t deserve prison for this, Felix.” As he said it, Adama made peace with the consequences. He had been about to retire five years ago anyway. Tigh could take over, at least until Kara or Helo were ready. He understood the consequences. The Federation would insist he step down if they thought he had been complicate in hiding a Prime Directive violation.

“I assure you sir, that unless things have changed a great deal, the Federation Penal Colony on New Zealand is more pleasant than living on the Galactica for the last few years has been.” Gaeta waited a moment. “More importantly, sir, you haven’t neglected my education as an officer at all. I did this. I knew the consequences. I violated my oath to Starfleet. The only reason I haven’t spelled out in detail exactly what I told President Roslin is because the people need her in office until the new colony is firmly established. They need you, too, and I won’t deprive them of you.” He took a deep breath. “Sometimes you have to roll a hard six, sir.”

Going Native Part 54

2008-05-19T23:12:03Z

Woo! Part 54 of Going Native! A rather more cheerful tale than some on BSG :) It's a BSG/STNG crossover, focused on sweet Mr. Gaeta.

It was just a matter of time, Picard thought as he looked at the Romulan war bird that had decloaked in front of the Enterprise. They had originally been patrolling close to the Neutral Zone because of reports of unusual activity by the Romulans. Now it was obvious that the Romulans had been tracking the massive fleets that had been tickling around the edges of their territory. Felix Gaeta had threaded the needle very carefully with his navigation coordinates, but the Romulans were always watching their borders. Picard also doubted that the Cylons tracking the human fleet had been as careful with their ship movements as Gaeta had been. They didn’t know that there was a threat, and they had similar scanning capabilities as the colonials which meant they never would have noticed cloaked Romulans trailing them.

The problem now was what to do. The Romulans were violating the terms of their treaty, but only just, and would make a reasonable argument about being curious. It wasn’t one of their larger ships, he had no doubt that in a fight, the Enterprise would easily win. The problem would be the collateral damage to the colonial fleet. The Romulans already knew that the ships were essentially defenseless and no doubt suspected some sort of different technology. Which they would no doubt love to get their hands on. The safest thing to do would be to move the colonial fleet deeper into Federation territory.

“I’ve advised both the colonial fleet and the Cylon base star to not launch their fighter ships,” Data said as Picard looked over the sensor readings. “Admiral Adama has advised that the civilian ships are preparing their FTL jump sequences. The acting commander of the Cylon basestar, a Six, advised that they will not attack and that they should have function restored with their drive within an hour.”

“Good. Advise them to stand by. Then contact Captain Gaeta and tell her to get back to her ship as soon as possible.” Data nodded without looking up from his work with just a quiet ‘aye captain‘ as acknowledgement. The situation didn’t need elaboration. The colonial fleet could easily move deeper into Federation territory, and he would send the Tom Dooley with the fleet. The Tom Dooley would warp ahead and the colonial fleet would meet it in seconds. There were some other relief vessels on their way, and the Romulans weren’t foolish enough to give chase.

The problem was the Galactica and to a lesser extent the Cylon base star. The Romulans were currently just interested in the ships, he suspected, and possibly thinking that the colonial ships had been spying on behalf of the Federation. Once they saw the civilian ships jump, they would become more than curious, they would start considering the risks in taking over the remaining ships. It would technically be an act of war but that was unlikely to stop the Romulans if they thought it would get them something valuable. They could also argue that they were justified. The colonial fleet may not have crossed the border into the Neutral Zone but the Cylons might have, and the Cylons weren‘t distinguishable enough from humans for it to matter to the Romulans. There was also the fact that there was no treaty with either the colonials or the Cylons, they were just in talks about it. So an argument could be made that the Romulans were merely dealing with an incursion on their border. It wouldn’t hold up in a court, but the Romulans would argue it for as long as they could and meanwhile would be developing the FTL drive into a formidable weapon. He had seen the possibilities himself. It wouldn’t compete with warp drive for long range work but he had already considered how smaller vehicles like a runabout could simply jump between shields. The Romulans would find that interesting and no doubt useful as well. And by the time the Federation held the Romulans legally accountable, the new weapon systems would be developed.

That was certainly the last thing they needed. “Hail the Romulan ship, Mr. Data.” he said. The view screen almost immediately came up with the image of a male Romulan captain. They had been waiting for the hail then. “ I am Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the USS Enterprise. You are violating the terms of your treaty and will remove your vessel at once.”

The Romulan captain shrugged. “Oh come now. I thought humans were more…. Romantic about borders and lines in the sand. Why just watching these quaint ships sinking their toes in and out of our territory for the last month or so… I can’t help but be shocked by how annoyed you are.” The Romulan smirked. “ I am Captain Dar Skivar of the Thrai. And I think the Federation has some explaining to do. As I understand the treaty, spying is wrong. And there’s fifty or so of these ships that have spent a great deal of time observing our territory.”

“These people are refugees from a previously unknown series of human colonies in the Beta Quadrant. We believe they are the remnants of a Preserver seeded society. They are not spies and they have not violated your territory and you most certainly have violated ours.” Of course the Romulans weren’t so deep in Federation territory that they couldn’t later argue that a mistake was made while tracking the colonial fleet. “They’ll be moving away from the Neutral Zone as soon as some engine difficulty is resolved.”

That would explain why the entire fleet had been moving at sublight for the last ten days.

“Perhaps.” Skivar smiled slightly. “Perhaps I’m having engine difficulty as well. Surely you’ll allow me a small amount of time to deal with it?”

Which wasn’t an unreasonable request so close to the border, one that Federation and Romulan granted as long as the situation wasn’t suspicious. He was certain that Skivar was lying, he was certain that in a clash that the Enterprise would win, but the Romulan ship could take out a lot of the colonial fleet with very little effort. “Of course. Do you require any assistance?”

“No, although your courtesy is most appreciated.” Skivar ended the communication.

Time to get things moving, Picard thought. “Mr. Data, advise Cmdr. Gaeta to meet me in my briefing room.”

~*~

He knew it was coming. He had been dreading returning to the Galactica. There were so many lies that he had to apologize for… Admiral Adama had been so angry. He had seen Adama’s hand clench into a fist when he had said that he was a Starfleet officer and it was only Laura Roslin’s quick thinking in grabbing the older man’s arm that had stopped Adama from pounding him bloody. The Admiral was a good man, but notorious for that moment where he snapped in rage.

Going back to the Galactica was necessary though. It completed the task. Once the Galactica could jump, then it could move to safety and the journey could truly end. So he would have to grit his teeth and deal with it, and hope that most of the people he knew hadn’t decided that he was some sort of religious figure. It didn’t help that releasing the Galactica’s FTL computers was going to look a lot like an old time laying on of hands. Fortunately most of it would be in the core and not the CIC.

As it was, it was truly amusing just how accurate the Scroll of Apollo had really been. He assumed Serena would get a nice paper in the journals out of that at least. He was just waiting for the rocks to metaphorically fall. Something was going to happen. Something bad, most likely. For the most part, the Scroll of Apollo didn’t end well.

And he wasn’t exactly the luckiest man in the world.

He stepped into the briefing room, surprised to see that it was just Picard. No, he told himself, you shouldn’t be surprised. Jean Luc Picard had been trying very hard to help him, so much so that he was convinced that the Arrow of Apollo was going to come from a colonial source, and not Starfleet.

“You requested to see me, sir.” He stood at attention. It was obvious why. Romulans were dangerous and the entire fleet was in danger. They needed to jump and soon.

“Cmdr. Gaeta, I am sending you to the Galactica. The FTL system is still unrepaired and your assistant Lt. Alghee apparently isn’t capable of fixing it.” His eyes seemed to bore holes into him. “I won’t ask what may be wrong with the colonial FTL drive because asking any details would be a violation of the trust that the people of the Twelve Colonies have given the Federation.”

He knew, Felix thought tiredly, and he wanted to avoid knowing officially. He had heard of such things happening. “I understand, sir.”

“Good, because without telling me what may be wrong, I want your best estimate and your worst as to how long it will take you to fix the Galactica.” Picard gestured to the ship’s window, where the Romulan ship was visible. “Urgency is an issue.”

“Without interruption, maybe an hour.” He knew there would be interruption. “More like two, if I have to look at the core computers. And if the system is… difficult, the worst case scenario is three hours.” The system was likely to balk at his commands, that had always been the problem. The Galactica liked to please, but like a old dog, once it learned a trick, it didn’t want to do anything but that trick. “Faster is better, I know.”

“No. Get it done, but make sure there’s no chance of failure.” Picard said it easily. “You’ve brought these people almost all the way, this isn’t the time to break concentration. Now, you’ll be transporting over to the Galactica with Major Adama. I’m concerned that the communications system is too primitive to stand against the Romulans so he’ll be briefing the Admiral on the plan. The Tom Dooley is going to depart to a position closer to the nearest Federation outpost and the colonial fleet will jump to those coordinates. I want to hold off exposing the Romulans to the FTL drive for as long as possible.”

“They’ll see the value instantly,” Gaeta said.

“Which is why the sooner the Galactica is able to leave, the better.” Picard said. Then, “One thing, before you go to Transporter Three. The FTL computers… You won’t be required to access the science lab on the Galactica to accomplish this task, correct?”

“Yes sir…”

“Good. You are not to enter the science lab.” Picard eyed him carefully. “That is an order, Mr. Gaeta.”

“Understood, sir.” But for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out where Picard was going with it. There was nothing in the science lab but research that would be considered antiquated by Federation standards.

Not that it mattered anyway. He was ready to finish it.

~*~

With many thanks to batsojopo

fic - "The Scepter" - part 60 of Alpha and Omega

2008-05-18T15:01:02Z

Part 60! Yay! Kara/Felix! See the other parts here and read in order! http://rapfic.livejournal.com/8449.html

Title: "The Scepter"
Prompt: Drink 060
Word count: 672
Summary: What in hell was going on in this temple?

“This is…” Kara’s voice trailed off. She didn’t know what to say.

“This is disturbing…” Gaeta said quietly. He stepped over a sprawled body. “Someone gutted her. With one of the ceremonial knives.”

“This is not normal,” Kara added as she looked at the dried blood stains that seemed to cover the entire floor of the inner sanctuary of the temple. She was used to war, to blood and bodies, but the sanctuary was a completely new experience. Shocking simply because she had never seen a bloodbath before. It looked as though the priests and priestesses had been tortured and executed. A slaughter, an old fashioned slaughter that had happened with knives and blunt objects. Dimly she recalled the streaky stains on the robes of the three priests they had found below. Those priests had looked as though radiation sickness had carried them off. “What the hell happened here?”

“Did they just go crazy?” Gaeta asked quietly. He shuddered suddenly, his expression turning green. Then he turned and vomited.

At first, she was surprised at his reaction. And then she wasn’t. Whoever had accepted him to the SRTU hadn’t thought much beyond filling a quota, she suspected. He wasn’t cold enough for fighting. In short bursts he was fine. When the situation demanded it, he could be the stone cold killer that was necessary. But he thought about it afterward. He would be thinking of their current mission for a very long time, if she was any judge of character.

But there was a job to do, and they were at the point where Gaeta was necessary. “Take a drink, and get over it,” she warned as she pulled her canteen out and handed it to him. “Dead is dead and we’re almost done.” She waited until he dutifully sipped the water. “Now, they had the Scepter in this room. Where is it?”

“Right there,” Gaeta said as he handed the canteen back. He gestured to her feet. She looked down and was shocked to find that she was standing in a pile of jeweled objects. There were chalices and necklaces and… right at her feet was a boxy, oddly shaped scepter with odd, geometric shapes made out of gemstones that were all bigger than any gems she had ever seen before. It didn’t seem to be made of any material she had ever seen before. She reached down and picked it up. It was warm to the touch and didn’t feel like metal all and it began to glow an orangish yellow. It pulsed and she almost dropped it until Gaeta reached out to steady her hand.

“It… it works for you.” He couldn’t hide how surprised he was, and it almost made her laugh. He took it from her, and the glow flickered just for a moment and then steadied. “My dad… the priest and priestess that caught us… It only glowed for me. They were so mad but… Every year one of them would show up at the house and beg my parents to let me be a priest… I wonder….” He spun the gems with what seemed like a practiced grace, and she was startled to realize that it really was a puzzle piece masquerading as a religious object. With a final twist, he spun it and held it up and the orangish glow brightened to yellow and… numbers flashed onto the walls and ceiling. She blinked and looked harder and realized what she was looking at. Extensive navigation coordinates, and Gaeta knew exactly what he was looking at as well. She could see that he was awed, but he shook it off quickly.

“ Turn around,” he said quickly as he twisted the scepter so that the numbers disappeared. She felt him drop the scepter into her small rucksack. “We have to leave. This place crawls.”

It was his scary side talking. She saw it in his eyes. She wondered if people ever looked at her and thought it was her scary side. She hoped so.