OBT Forum

Just don't give Lee the job.  I loved how Mathias said to him do you want your daughter growing up in this environment?  It's a Gods (lol) damn Mercury-class Battlestar - and Lorne wants him to swap it for an unarmed civilian freighter...

If I was looking after my family I'd keep the Battlestar command - guns check, armed marines check, fighter complement check, armour that can take a dozen nukes - triple check

Admiral Adama stood as the hatch opened, and with him stood Saul Tigh, Lee Adama, Elias Thorean, Mark Foeswan, Samantha Caldwell, Thomas Jayne, Laura Roslin, and Tom Zarek.  He kept the expression from his face—but if there had been any way to keep Zarek out of this meeting, he would have.  Unfortunately, thanks to the President’s jaws being wired shut, and his standing among the Quorum of Twelve—added to the current lack of a Vice-President—his presence was mandatory.

And at that thought, he looked again at Lee—still in uniform, but his son had already told Adama that he was resigning his commission to seek office.  The Admiral exhaled deeply.  As if he didn’t have enough problems on his plate!  But there hadn’t been time for a proper discussion of that, not after Anubis had arrived.

Seeing who sat at the very end of the Colonial side of the table, now his expression hardened in a frown.  Gaius Baltar.  Once again, the need for his scientific knowledge meant that Adama would have to tolerate his presence, although at least this time, the Admiral thought with a snort, looking at Neil Sarris at the other end—as far as it was possible to get from the more famous scientific advisor—he had something of a counter-weight.

The two scientists also came to their feet as Galactica’s guests began to file in.  Maya and Sharon had agreed to watch the little girl Rebecca—Newt, as she preferred to be called.  And Bill snorted.  He had actually feared that Sharon—Athena—would kill Maya, but Helo and Sidewinder had convinced her that she had known nothing.  Along with Maya’s utter crushing despair at losing the girl she thought was her own.  It surprised him, the way Helo—and Athena—had reached out to the woman, agreeing to keep her in Hera’s life, and even adding the name that Maya had given the child—Isis—to her official name.  Hera Isis Agathon.  Adama smiled.  If that could be overcome, maybe there was still some hope for humanity after all.

Ellen Ripley entered the room, along with Carter J. Burke.  The Colonial Marine—and Adama snorted in amusement—officer William Gorman came next, followed by the one they called Bishop and Corporal Dwayne Hicks.  The other two—William Hudson and Jenette Vasquez—were being fested by Galactica’s Marines and pilots.  All of them had seen the video images from the rescue Raptors; the Admiral shook his head and he sighed.  Those two—these eight, including the girl—had gone through an utter hell that he was only starting to understand.

“Welcome to Galactica,” Adama said, motioning with his hand for the guests to sit as he did so, followed by his own officers and scientists—and the politicians.  “I am Admiral Adama.  I understand that you claim to be from Earth.”

Ellen Ripley nodded.  “We are from Earth, Admiral Adama.  But after speaking with your Major Caldwell, I fear that you are likely to be gravely disappointed.”  She paused.  “We have no records, no myths, no legends, of your Twelve Tribes—until we met, we had not imagined that other human cultures and civilizations existed out there.”

“None?” asked Elias.  “I am Colonel Thorean.”

Ripley and Burke exchanged a look and then she nodded.  “We recognize your Gods—as myth.  But no one has worshiped them in nearly two millennia.  And we most definitely did not come from any . . . Kobol.”

Laura looked sick, and she scribbled something on a piece of paper.

“I’m Tom Zarek,” the politician said.  “A Delegate to the Quorum of Twelve—a legislative body—that approves laws and advises the President.  If you didn’t come from Kobol, then where did you come from?”

“Earth,” said Burke.  “We evolved on Earth—the fossil record is quite clear.  And it shows that it wasn’t gods that created us, we evolved just like all of the species we share the planet with.”

“Then how . . .,” Lee started to ask, but he shook his head.  “It isn’t important—not right now.  What is important is that you need to know about the Cylons.”

Burke smiled.  “Major Caldwell has briefed us on that—and I can assure you that our military can easily handle these . . . machines.  What is important is that we begin discussions on how we are going to get you people settled and make certain that you are not being taken advantage of by our competitors.”

And Burke ignored a warning growl from Ripley to grin at their hosts.

“Your competitors, Mister Burke?” Adama asked.  “What is your role here?”

“I am just a liaison assigned to this expedition to ensure that Weyland-Yutani, one of the largest and most successful corporate entities on Earth, had its interests in Acheron looked after.  We were the ones terraforming the surface—and running the mining operations.”

“And other corporations are your competitors, Mister Burke?” the Admiral asked.

“Yes, and the national governments, I will admit.  You people seem to have a united government of all Twelve of your Colonies.  If I am understanding the briefing right, you had a dozen fully industrialized worlds with a total population of more than thirty billion, yes?  That is rather impressive.”

“Earth is not united under a single government?” Lee asked.

“No, Sir,” said Lieutenant Gorman.  “If I may?” he asked, holding up a small case. 

Adama nodded.

“Thank you, Admiral,” he said laying out the case and pressing a button.  A three-dimensional holographic projection sprang into life, showing the Earth.  “This is Earth.  We are members of the Colonial Marine Corps, a military branch of the United Americas Alliance,” and as he said those words, a large section of the land area flashed light blue, encompassing the full stretch of a southern continent, the connecting isthmus, and more than half of the northern continent, along with scores of islands near the isthmus.

“Other governments include the Three Worlds Empire,” Gorman continued, and the rest of the northern continent turned gold, along with an extremely large and isolated island continent in the southern hemisphere, and more islands in both the southern and northern hemisphere—along with a triangular piece of land almost in the center of the largest land-mass and the southern third of the continent south of the large one.

“The China-Asian Congress,” and virtually all of the remaining islands in the wide ocean blinked crimson, along with most of the eastern portion of the largest land-mass, “and the Soviet Pact,” a long swath of territory reaching from the eastern-most tip of the largest land-mass and running along its northern shore almost all of the way to the next ocean turned orange.

“The Federated European Union,” and the western tip of the that same large land-mass turned green, “and the Pan-African Assembly,” and the rest of the of the continent south of the largest one turned purple.

“Finally, the Persian-Arabian Caliphate,” and the remaining central portion of the large continent flashed silver.

Burke nodded.  “That is the major players and they all have their own armed forces and extra-solar colonies.  Some are,” and he smiled, “well, let’s just say they are not as important as others.  The PAC and PAA and Pact have lingered behind the UAA, CAC, TWE, and FEU in technology and overall power—but governments are not your only option.  Think about it,” he said as Ripley ground her teeth.  “They are used to taking what they want,” Burke continued with a smile.  “Just like governments always do—but Weyland-Yutani?  We don’t need to take from you—we can buy.  Or barter.  You want a world to settle?  We’ve got dozens!  Take your pick.”

“All for the low fee of everything we have, Mister Burke?” asked the Admiral, a frown upon his face.

“You know real life Admiral—everything is for sale.  Everyone is for sale.  The Company can offer you your own world, colonization equipment, provisions and medical supplies, education materials . . .,” he snapped his fingers, “a line of credit.  And in exchange, we would only ask that we be allowed to have the exclusive rights to . . . distribute your technology.  You win—you get a planet to settle, along with the protection of Weyland-Yutani and our friends in the UAA; and we win—we get a chance to get a leg up on our competitors and turn a profit, that will incidentally enough make you people rich beyond all dreams of avarice.  I did mention that we would be willing to offer a royalty to you as well?  Yes?”

“I was under the impression,” said Tom Zarek after he looked down at what Laura had written, balled it up, and threw it over his shoulder (causing the President’s cheeks to burn red!), “that none of you were authorized to negotiate?”

“We aren’t,” said Ripley.  “Not even Mister Burke.”

“Why can we simply not settle on Earth?” asked Lee, who had read the note Laura had scrawled down before Zarek threw it away.  He looked back up.  “A lot of people are going to be expecting to see Earth for themselves; that is one of the few things that has kept them going has been the promise of Earth as a new home.”

“Out of the question,” answered Lieutenant Gorman—and this time Hicks stabbed Burke hard in the ribs as the Company Man began to open his mouth. 

Hicks leaned over and he whispered in Burke’s ear.  “Another word, and I will throw you out the airlock myself, Burke,” he warned.

Gorman continued, “The ICC—Interstellar Commerce Commission—would never allow it.  Earth is very crowded and has a high level of pollution and damage to the biosphere.  They never allow immigration to Earth—only emigration away.  And there are the only international agency that is formed by all of the major states.  They keep Earth—and the fifteen billion people there—safe from contamination by any alien lifeforms or diseases.”

“I understand,” growled Adama.  “We will need to establish contact with these governments—and your corporations, Mister Burke—to see about starting negotiations.  Where would be the best place for that?”

Ripley sighed and she slid a chart across the table.  “Beta Virginis is the nearest.  It is a major core world colony that has a sizeable Fleet presence.  It has a UAA, TWE, and CAC presence there.  We call the planet Beowulf.”

“One jump,” Adama said as he glanced down at the chart.  “This is where you sent your message, Lieutenant Gorman?”

“There and a copy to the Corps HQ on Earth, Admiral.”

“Very well, I think we have some things to discuss among ourselves,” Adama said.  He started to rise, but then sat back down as Ripley held up her hand.

“One last thing, Admiral; we are well aware of your—justifiable—fear and hatred of the Cylons.  However, you need to realize something.  We,” and she pointed to her fellow Terrans, “aren’t part of your culture and civilization, nor are we bound by your laws.  And we have our own Synthetics.”

Jaws dropped.  Well, except for the Presidents, whose eyes bulged and strangled sounds emerged from her throat.

“You have developed your own Cylons?” Adama asked.

“Not the same as yours,” Burke said.  “Major Caldwell told us of how they are machines that desire flesh, but our Synthetic actually resemble human beings—but they are programmed only to serve mankind.  Right, Bishop?”

“Yes, Mister Burke,” said Bishop.  "Our behavioral inhibitors prevent any such rebellion as you Colonials suffered from the Cylons.  It is impossible for me to harm or by omission of action, allow to be harmed, a human being," he paused,  "I should add that I prefer the term Artificial Person."

Everyone on the other side of the table stood.  “THAT is a Cy- . . . synthetic?”

“Is that going to be a problem?” asked Bishop.

Gorman waited until the hatch had closed behind them and then he grabbed Burke by his jacket and slammed him around against the bulkhead.

“What the HELL was that?” he barked in English.  “We agreed to tell them about synthetics in general—NOT to piss them the fuck off by telling them Bishop was one!”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Burke said quickly.  “I just asked Bishop to confirm that synthetics are harmless—he’s the one who slipped up.”  And he cocked his head to one side and grinned.  “And watch the jacket, Marine; it cost more than you will make in three months.”

Gorman snarled and drew back his fist, while he held Burke off his feet with one hand.

“Lieutenant,” Hicks said.  “You don’t want to do that.  He’s not worth it—and if you hit him, he will frag your career.”

The Marine snarled and dropped Burke.  “You knew exactly what Bishop was going to say.  You gave him that leading line and just let himself walk right off the deep end, Burke.  Doesn’t it bother you that he is now in their brig?”

Burke adjusted his jacket and shirt and shook his head.  “He’s a piece of property—Company Property—Gorman,” the young exec said with a smile.  “They damage him in any way . . . well, Weyland-Yutani owns the local courts, and you better believe the ICC will side with us—especially if we give them cut.  And a Hyperdine Model 341-B Synthetic Life Form with full Marine Support and Flight Programming is an amazingly expensive piece of equipment.  That is why we generally lease them.”

He looked at Ripley and Hicks and Gorman and he smiled.  “Trust me, I know what I am doing.”

“And what if they just decide that anyone that is using what they call Cylons is a threat and just space all of us, Burke?  Alter course and head away to avoid Earth?” Ripley asked.  “Did you think of that?”

The company man laughed.  “They are obsessed with Earth—did you see the face of their President?  Their officers?  That politician?  They aren’t going to just turn around—they need to have their dreams come true.  And I’m the man who is going to make that happen.”

“You are going to sneak more than fifty thousand people onto Earth?  How?” asked Hicks.

“The ICC will allow immigration—if the UAA and Weyland-Yutani and few of our corporate allies such as Hyperdine push for it; purely for humanitarian reasons, of course.  And I believe that after those problems that Argentina and Chile had the Company owns Tierra del Fuego in full.”  Burke smiled.  “We can evict the current population and settle them there if Earth is really what they want—of course, they will have to disarm and dismantle their ships.  And that will give us a chance to examine their FTL technology.”

“You are a real piece of work,” Ripley said as she shook her head.  “How do you think they are going to react to disarming?”

“They might not like it,” answered Burke.  “If they want to keep their ships and guns we’ve got other worlds.  But if they want to land on Earth and make a home,” he smiled.  “Then they have to play by our rules.”

The hatch opened, Hudson staggered in as he struggled to hold Vasquez up.

“Oh, shit,” said Hicks.  “Don’t tell me she found a fucking still!”

“They got a whole damned bar on this ship!” Hudson answered; his own nose a bit rosy.  “We didn’t have to buy a round!”

Vasquez hiccupped, and looked up at Hicks and smiled.  “I’s saying good-bye to Drake.  And Apone.  And Dietrich.  And Frost.  And Crowe.  And Ferro.  And Spunkmeyer.  And Wiz-wiz-wiz-,” she stammered, looking for waste can.

“Wierzbowski,” said Hicks as he held one out.

“Him,” she agreed before she threw up.

Ripley stepped back and turned the ventilator on high, waving the air around her.

“Hey, where’s Bishop, man?” asked Hudson.  “He saved our asses by crawling down that pipe.”

Hicks sighed and jerked a thumb at Burke.  “Asshole got him thrown in the brig because he outed him as a synthetic.”

“Shit, man.  That’s . . . wrong,” he said as he sat back in his chair.  “You don’t snitch on your buddies, man.  You know what they do to toasters on this boat?”

Vasquez looked up from the waste can and wiped her mouth on Hudson’s shirt.

“HEY!” he yelled.

“He’s not one of our buddies, Hudson.  He’s a corporate big-shot who just wants to get his and FUCK the rest of us.  And as soon as this room quits spinning, I’m going to hit him.  And then I’m going to break Bis-HICK-hop out from lockup.”

And then she fell forward on her face and passed out.  “Lieutenant, you want to give me hand getting her in her bunk?” Hicks asked.

Ripley woke with a start.  The bunks were full, and the Marines were snoring—Newt was sleeping curled up with a stuffed bear that the Agathons had somehow scrounged up for her.

She rubbed her eyes.

“Where’s Burke?” she asked.

****************************************************

“So what does this place have?” asked Burke with a grin on his face.

Joe looked at the guest and he shook his head.  “I’ve got moonshine . . . and moonshine,” he said throwing a towel over his shoulder.

Burke cocked his head—with that smile fixed on his face.  “Now that is a difficult choice . . . I’ll have the moonshine.”

“Good selection,” the bartender answered as he put a glass on the bar and poured a clear liquid into it.  “Chase?”

“Water,” answered Burke as he reached into his pocket.

“Nope.  The pilots and Marines started you folks a tab—this is your first.  You’ve got plenty more coming if you want them.  Besides, your money isn’t any good here, remember?”

“Thanks,” Burke said as he picked up the two glasses and made his across the dirty, dank, ill-lit hole in the wall on Galactica’s decommissioned flight deck.  “Mind if I join you?”

Tom Zarek looked up.  “Mister Burke,” he said as he stood, his smile as sincere as the one that the Company Man wore.  “Have a seat.”

“I couldn’t help but notice that you and the Admiral don’t seem to care much for each other.”

“That obvious,” Zarek said with a snort.

“Not obvious, but I’m good at reading people.  Just like, you and the President don’t care too much for each other either.”

“We don’t.  What do you want, Mister Burke?”

“Well, it occurred to me, Mister Zarek, that perhaps I am setting my sights too high.  I mean, Weyland-Yutani would to assist this entire fleet . . . but I fear that Adama and Roslin will reject our offer and you are not going to like dealing the squabbling governments.  It might even precipitate a war on the colonies and Earth.”  Burke shrugged.  “But of course, maybe we do not have to deal with the . . . entire fleet.”

Tom Zarek didn’t say a word—he smiled.  “What are suggesting, Mister Burke?”

“Well, I heard on Anubis that a number of people there and on a ship called Leonis Pryde and another called Astral Queen, and maybe two or three more want to see you in charge.  My offer stands, Mister Zarek, whether or not it is to the entire Fleet—or a portion thereof.  I will make certain that your people get to settle on Earth and enough funds to set you up for life.  If, that is, you agree to provide Weyland-Yutani with exclusive rights to your technology.”

Zarek sat back and he nodded.  “You realize that Adama and Roslin would be furious—and they will probably protest heavily against one ship captain signing such an agreement.”

“Oh, certainly.  But by the time they know it will all be said and done, Mister Zarek.  And once Weyland-Yutani files the paperwork with the ICC, well, neither Laura Roslin nor William Adama will be able to sell it to anyone else.  It will legally belong to Weyland-Yutani, as far as Earth courts are concerned.”

“I see,” whispered Zarek.  “Adama will be furious,” and he smiled.  “Can I have some time to think this over?”

“Of course,” and Burke laid a fancy printed card on the table.  “Just don’t take too long—other captains might be willing to jump ship, so to speak.”

“I won’t take that long at all, Mister Burke.  But I need to speak with some . . . associates,” Zarek said as he lifted his glass.

Burke stood.  He beamed a smile upon the Sagittaron.  “Good.  I will leave you to enjoy yourself.  Good night, Mister Zarek.”

“Good night, Mister Burke.”

****************************************************

It was strange to see Admiral Adama in a robe and slippers Zarek thought.  Adama, on the other hand, glared at the former terrorist and member of the Quorum.  And at Saul Tigh, whose expression was rather . . . pensive.

“This had better be good, Mister Zarek—you are the wrong gender and far too ugly to be waking me up at two in the morning,” he growled.

“You think I would have woken you up if it weren’t, Bill?” Saul asked.  “Now fracking let us in, Admiral, Sir.”

Adama exhaled deeply, but the look on Saul’s face—and his use of his given name in front of a man that Saul absolutely hated—made the Admiral nod.  He stepped aside, and they came in and Adama closed the hatch.

“What is that could not have waited until . . . later in this morning?” Adama asked as he sat, motioning the other two to take a seat.

Zarek leaned forward and he quickly explained his meeting with Carter J. Burke.  The Sagittaron took no appreciation at seeing Adama’s anger being redirected—in fact, he made a note for future reference exactly what a true fury looked like on the man.

“Why did you bring this to Colonel Tigh?” Adama asked, leaving unsaid that Zarek had also come to him—but his eyes acknowledged that.

“We don’t agree on a lot, Admiral Adama,” Zarek said bleakly.  “But despite my past, I do want what is best for the Fleet.  Not just my people, but all of the Fleet.  But if Burke was telling the truth about their laws—and if so much as a single officer jumps away with him to Earth, accepting his offer—then all of the rest of us are well and truly fracked.”

“You could have gone to Roslin.”

“She hates me more than you do, Admiral.  And I realize that I took my life in my own hands waking Colonel Tigh—but he did give me a chance to explain and delayed the beating until another night.  And then we came here,” Zarek shook his head. “There are elements in the Fleet that will sign any document Burke puts in front of them, if it means they can settle on Earth—and to Tartarus with the rest of us.”  He paused.  “I have some experience—before the Fleet—with making problems like this vanish.  I won’t . . . unless you ask me.”

Saul sucked in his breath, and he looked at Bill Adama, and Bill looked at him.  And both of them knew the other was seriously thinking about the offer.

“I think,” Adama said, “we might be able to handle this without arranging an . . . accident.  A fatal accident, I presume, Mister Zarek.  But you were right to bring this to my attention—and I will not forget it.”

Zarek sighed and he stood.  “My offer stands.  I was in prison as a political captive, Admiral, but I have gotten my hands dirty before for what I believe in.  And if you need me, I have no qualms whatsoever about making Carter J. Burke vanish from the face of universe.  Good night,” he said, and then he turned to go as Adama and Tigh stood.

“Mister Zarek,” Adama’s voice stopped him and he turned around.  To see the hand that Adama was extending towards him.  He drew in a breath and he took it, and they shook.

Hahahaha

Why do I have the image of Burke taking a wrong turn on Galactica and walking out of an air lock sans space suit?

Episode 16:  A New Dawn

Mathias stood as Admiral Adama came through the hatch of the brig aboard Pegasus.  He saluted, but Adama just glared at him, and then turned to the guards.  “Out,” he ordered.

The two guards left quietly and closed the hatch behind them and the two men—one inside the locked cell and the other outside—stood there.

“You’ve put me between a rock and a hard place, Commander Lorne,” Adama growled.  “What you did was unacceptable—and by all rights I should have you stripped of your rank, your commission, and sentenced to hard labor.”

“I wonder how that will play among the Fleet—the guilty parties aboard Pegasus get a pass for their crimes, while I am broken for punching the President who kidnapped a child,” Mathias said with a narrow smile on his face.

“By the Gods, you just want to push this don’t you?”

“What I want, Admiral, is justice,” answered Mathias.

“What you want will tear this Fleet apart—and with the Guardians out there chasing us down, and the Thirteenth Tribe being so very different than some had hoped,” Adama said, “I cannot let that happen.”

Adama walked up to the control board and he unlocked the cell.  Mathias raised an eyebrow and he stood there. 

“So that’s it?  No trial, no real punishment; just everything swept under the rug again?”

“Oh, you are going to receive a sentence, Commander Lorne—one that you will despise.  Lee has given me his resignation—apparently because you put the idea in his head that he might make a good politician.  That means that I need a Commander for Pegasus . . . Commander.”

“Now, just a damn minute, Admiral,” Mathias snarled.

“Save it.  You don’t like how I’ve handled Pegasus and her crew?  Fine.  She’s yours.  I am putting you in command of her effective today.  Since you are likely to jettison Major Shaw from an airlock, I am sending Samantha Caldwell aboard as your XO with a promotion to Colonel, and transferring over the remaining three hundred and fifty-five officers and men from Cerberus Anchorage—you will still be undermanned, but not quite as much.  You have a problem with Pegasus and her crew, Commander?  Now it will be your responsibility to solve that problem.”

“What about Anubis and Scorpia?”

“I am promoting Colonel Jayne to Commander,” Adama smiled grimly.  “I thought of giving him Shaw as his XO, but then he wasn’t the one who punched the President in the jaw . . . and Shaw is likely to suffer an accident onboard either Scorpia or Anubis; she’s going to Galactica.  Instead, I am putting Elias Thorean in as the commanding officer aboard Anubis.”

“And if I refuse this transfer?” asked Mathias?

“Then you can rot in this cell, Commander!” Adama snapped.  Then he released a deep exhale of air and his shoulders fell.  “Mathias, I need you here—we may have done the Thirteenth Tribe a grave disservice by leading the Guardians to their doorstep.  And for the moment, I need my best officers leading—not sitting on their ass in hack.”

“Permission to make a few transfers from Scorpia—with Commander Jayne’s approval—of course?”

“Within reason, Commander,” Adama answered.

“And I will have a free hand in ridding this Battlestar of the shame she has brought upon herself?”

“Once again, within reason, Commander,” Adama said with a sigh.  “Now, if you will come with me to CIC, Commander Adama and Colonel Caldwell are waiting for the hand-over.  I had Jayne box up and ship over all of your belongings, so you can start your job on this ship immediately.”