[oBSG/BT] Mission of Civilization

UF: Stories written by users, both fanfics and original.

Moderator: LadyTevar

MysteriousDarkLordv3
Youngling
Posts: 132
Joined: 2010-05-08 08:15am

[oBSG/BT] Mission of Civilization

Post by MysteriousDarkLordv3 » 2010-11-18 03:22pm

Unknown star system.
4th yahren of the Great Exodus


Adama's Journal

We are almost a yahren past our last battle with the Cylons, when we lost the Battlestar Pegasus. There has been only one encounter since, which makes us believe that we have passed beyond the far boundary of Cylon space.

Today marks the fourth anniversary of the destruction of our homeworlds. This day has no special name yet, as the events it commemorates are too raw and painful, but most people refer to it as 'The Day'. Already traditions have emerged. In the assembly hall of the Galactica, our people have taken to placing likenesses of those that they lost with memorial lights. I went to place images of Zac and Lia, only to find Apollo and Athena already there. Since my likenesses were older, they allowed mine to be placed, but insisted on the extra memorial lights. Later I saw many images with multiple memorial lights. I think that each individual family member placing a memorial light for a loved one will become the custom. I approve of this, because everyone should have the option of signifying their personal grief.

The Quorum of Twelve has been especially contentious of late. The current Quorum, having been elected in the wake of the Baltar Incident, has virtually no political experience, and as a consequence, their arguments have become increasingly vocla over trivia. Three time-cycles ago, after the fourth tied vote - on the proper distribution of excess luxury clothings, of all idiotic things - I invoked the Law of the Presidium, calling for the President to stand down, and a new member-at-large to be elected to the Quorum for a one-yahren period who would be invested with the position of President. They tried to call it to a vote, but I was able to show that after three or more tied votes, it was mandatory under the Law of the Colonies and not itself subject to a vote. And as I pointed out, it amounted to a reduction of my martial-law authority. They liked that.

The next time-cycle, the Fleet elected Siress Tiria of Aquaron, the only ex-Quorum member untainted by the Baltar Incident, as President. Tiria is an intelligent and insightful woman and has a very strong notion of civilian prerogatives, but she is rather abrasive. It may be that after the Baltar Incident, her attitude toward the military may have mellowed somewhat. But I take comfort in the knowledge that she has half a century of political experience, more than all the current Quorum combined, and their childish games will mean nothing to her. So now that I have locked the children in a cage with a fangbeast, I can relax for a while.

I weary of the pettiness and surreal nature of politics. I know from history that my ancestors - the High Lords of Caprica - were actually bred and trained from birth to deal with these matters for their entire lives. I give my ancestors my pity. All but Sire Gilgam, who was the last High Lord of Caprica and who served as the first Representative of Caprica to the Quorum. He was obviously a very smart man, to have cleverly divested himself and his descendants of the burden of ruling a world.

I am finding some difficulty in maintaining a state of alertness among the civilian population. I know from history that many tyrants rose to power using a climate of fear, and I wish to avoid the conditions that allow that to happen. This is why I've taken advantage of this prolonged peaceful interlude to relax martial law somewhat. But conversely, keeping the civilians ready for defense without an immediate Cylon threat is troublesome. I hope we are beyond the Cylons' reach, but that doesn't mean that other menaces don't lurk among these unknown stars.

----------

Out of a patch of null-space, three Colonial Vipers erupted.

"Okay rookies," Lieutenant Starbuck said over the comline. "We're looking for a jump point. We first find the plane of the system. We do that by first finding planets, comets, asteroids - shiny things. Normally you should resist being distracted by shiny things, but this time - "

"Excuse me, sire?"

"Ident sign, Warrior!"

The trainee warrior made a squeaking sound and replied, "Blue-three, Cadet Palyma, sire!"

"And what do you want, Blue Three?"

"Shouldn't we look for habitable planets, sire?"

"No. We're scouts, we scout. We just find the route we'll take and return with the charts. The science ships will take care of finding habitable worlds."

Another voice spoke up, "Blue-two, Cadet Hercula, sire. Why don't they send the science ships to do this, then?"

Starbuck snorted. "And if they pop out in the middle of a Cylon attack force? They get splattered, the fleet gets no warning, and an unnecessary number of people become kill-marks on a Cylon's blaster-haft."

"So we get killed instead?"

The contempt in Starbuck's voice was thick enough to spread with a knife. "We're Colonial Warriors! It's our job to get shot at so our people can live! If you can't take that, infant, climb back into your mama's womb!"

Blue-Two gulped. "S-Sorry, sire!"

Starbuck huffed. "No, I am. I shouldn't have snapped like that. I had to pay thirty cubits for my last fumarello, you know. And I can't risk smoking the entire thing at once!"

"Oh poor fumar-leaf addict. A pity that we can only raise useful plants on the agro-ship instead of recreational narcotics."

"What was that?"

"Um - static, sire!"
----------

System Name: Botany Bay
Coordinates: -179.43, 487.44
Star Type: K1V
Position in System: 2
Time to Jump Point: 5.48 days
Recharging Station: None
Population: 1,000,000
Percentage and Level of Native Life: 70% Reptilian, 10% Mammal

Former Rim Worlds Republic member world, briefly occupied by the Lyran Commonwealth during the First Succession War..

The world of Botany Bay was originally settled by Australians. One of the planet's main exports was sand for industrial usage.

----------

Arcology of Singh
Planet Botany Bay, Coreward Periphery
November 11, 2999 AD - RWR Independence Day


Planetary Defense Chief Vince MacRuder looked out on his forces as they went past for the Independence Day Parade. The population - all one million of them - was watching his face on the planetary holo-network. It wouldn't do to weep in public.

Two Padilla-class Heavy Artillery Tanks, six Thor-class Artillery Combat Vehicles, two Zero-class Light AeroSpace Fighters flying overhead, and five thousand infantry. And that was it - the entirety of the Botany Bay Colonial Defense Militia.

No Battlemechs had served in a hundred years. The planet's last IndustrialMech had been equipped with armor and autocannon-10's ninety years ago, only to be ripped apart during it's only outing against pirates. And the pirates always seemed to have more Battlemechs.

Every three years on the average, pirate bands attacked, DropShips plunging down on their arcologies, Battlemechs marching in the streets. And every time, half to two-thirds of the militia died. The two ASFs were built out of the wreckage of ten others, and the Padillas only existed because their lostech systems allowed them to stay away from combat while delivering their missile payloads. And they were down to their last hundred irreplacable Arrow IV missiles.

The only shield that the people of Botany Bay had against the pirates was the Defense Militia and Vince MacRuder. And they were as useful as wet tissue paper. One, two, maybe three more raids, and they would have nothing to fight back with. And once the pirates knew they could not be even ineffectually resisted, they wouldn't raid anymore - they would simply come and never leave.

Perhaps ten years of relative freedom left. if they were lucky. After that, how long before the pirates had used up the Botanian people, shipped all the useful slaves off, stripped what little industrial superstructure still existed, and allowed the rest of the population to die of disease and starvation?

Planetary Defense Chief Vince MacRuder was a master of looking firm and resolute, of hiding the despair in his soul. He had a lot of practice.

As the parade finished and MacRuder stepped off the platform, his yeoman, Lieutenant Rand, came up behind him. "OC matter, sir," she said.

He nodded calmly as they walked to the private car. In the priority codes of the Defense Militia, OC meant 'unknown but potentially dangerous circumstance'. As they got into the car and drove off, Yeoman Rand gave her report. "Ten minutes ago, an anomalous EM reading was recorded. The signature was similar to a KF Drive signature but very weak, almost on the limit of detectability. The position cooresponds to a pseudo-point in the rimward area of the system - not a real pirate point, because it's too small and unstable. Spectroscopic exam of the area indicated three flares of unknown type moving through the system at eleven gees acceleration. Based on their motion, they will pass within two hundred thousand klicks of Bebee in eight-point-two-five hours."

"Anything in the warbook?"

"Nothing significant."

MacRuder looked at her coldly. "I will decide what is significant. What did the warbook say?"

Rand looked embarrassed. "The warbook gave a Code Zulu alert. It's obviously some glitch."

The warbook - the ancient computer programs plus the database of Star League sensor data that was used universally throughout the Inner Sphere and Periphery - allowed identification of any ship or weapon system known to man, even lostech. And MacRuder knew what Code Zulu meant to the warbook. It was included in the program for when no other match could be made. It was the first thing looked up by everyone who had access to the warbook databases.

'Code Zulu' meant 'Alien / Nonhuman Spacecraft'.

MacRuder picked up the car's phone. "MacRuder here. Set a maximum alertness drill for three hours from now, lasting six hours." He checked his spaceflight charts. "Our Zeros at four gees can intercept at eight-point-one mega-klicks in eight hours, if we outfit it with drop tanks and booster rockets for deep flight. Send Zero Alpha out."

"Chief?"

"I want a look at those things as far from the planet as possible. If they're hostile, we can attack them out there or with Zero Beta."

"Aye, sir."
----------

MysteriousDarkLordv3
Youngling
Posts: 132
Joined: 2010-05-08 08:15am

Re: [oBSG/BT] Mission of Civilization

Post by MysteriousDarkLordv3 » 2010-11-19 10:34am

Deep Space, Botany Bay System
November 11, 2999 AD
4th yahren of the Great Exodus

Blue Flight was flying on autopilot. The flight profile was routine - zip through the system at ten gees acceleration, loop the sun, go back to the null-space. This would take most of a time-cycle, so the Viper pilots spent the bulk of the time in flight slumber with sensors recording and alarms ready to sound.

And they sounded at Mission plus six centars.

Lieutenant Starbuck was the first awake, with the two cadets just a bit behind.

"Listen up, Blue Flight. Sensors have a drive-flare - it looks like an alien ship under power. Flare indicates an old-style mag-fusion system, like a Fourth Millennium ship. Decelerating at three-point-six gees, it'll intercept us in two centars. You know what that means?"

Cadet Palmya answered, "An attack?"

"Do you decelerate to make an attack on a spaceship, Cadet? I hope not."

In the embarrassed silence, Starbuck answered, "Meeting us halfway means they want to talk but are nervous about us getting too close to their world. Switch on the languatrons, set the com-sensors on omni-band to pick up every possible broadcast. If there are any broadcasts in the system, that should allow us to get enough of their language in two centars to at least ask if they have grog. Blue-Three, since you're anxious to attack ships that are decelerating, we'll get you out of here. Return to the Galactica at best speed and give a Code Prometheus. Blue-Two, you remember the rest of the Prometheus Protocols regading interception by non-hostile alien ships?"

Cadet Herculea stammered a bit, then recited, "Send out langua-code transmission to facilitate translation. Meet at zero relative. Maximize vocal communications to allow languatron to develop a database. Keep force field positive but don't shoot first. Accept invitations if offered. Make neither wagers nor promises."

"Good girl. You'll go far."
---------------

Captain Juliet Moreland in the ASF Zero Alpha wanted to gasp as the acceleration pressed her into her gee-seat. Despite the gee-suit and the acceleration drugs, it was still like being crushed by a hundred-kilo weight for six hours. And despite the fact that she had a heat-sink where a production-run Zero would have a LRM-10, it was still an oven in the cockpit. The things she did for the Bebee!

But she wouldn't have passed it up for anything.

As the information feed from Militia Control kept babbling in her ear, it confirmed the alien identity of the objects. Sensors indicated that the drive flare of the Zulu probes corresponded to no known energy process and the ships were made of a metal alloy comprised mostly of aluminum and iridium. One of the probes just now looped around and headed back the way it came at one-hundred-ten gees acceleration. The other two were now decelerating, ready to meet her at zero relative.

If she weren't having the life crushed out of her, she would have been fidgeting in excitement.

"Calling Zero Alpha," a voice from Militia Control sounded in her ear. "Still can't identify what that engine is, but we've got a good reading of the thrust and mass. They mass a bit over fourteen tons each. As fighters I think they would be classed as ultra-light. The consultants think that they're automated probes launched from a ship at the pseudo-point. They've been transmitting at us for ten minutes now. It appears to be a binary-code-based translation program. It has vocabulary and a table of basic measures for time, distance, and mass. Close match to the MKS system but not exact. We'll look it over and see if we can add a database of English and beam it into your system. It if works, you should be able to talk to them to a degree. Since there's going to be a fifty-four-second transmission lag, you are now appointed by Parliament and the Big Chief as de facto Ambassador of the Republic of Botany Bay. The Chief says you can expect a half-step rise in pay grade. Maybe a small bonus."

"Nice of you," she grunted. "I can spend it on a new wheelchair. I better get a statue out of this, you tool-tuggers!"
---------------

Battlestar Galactica
"Rag Tag Fleet"


Corporal Rigel reported, "Colonel, getting a message from Blue-Three."

Colonel Tigh frowned at that. "Blue Flight isn't due back for for another half a time-cycle." In the four yahrens since the Destruction of the Colonies, it had become a truism that if anything was off-schedule or unexpected, it was usually bad. "Put it on speaker."

"This is Blue-Three from Blue Flight, reporting to Galactica. Galactica respond. Oh Lords, come on already!"

Tigh grunted. "Cadet flight. Rookies are so excitable." He picked up his microphone. "Blue-Three, this is Galactica. Are you going to report any particular action code or are you going to just jabber like a primate?"

"Sorry sir - Blue Flight reporting Code Prometheus. Repeating - Code Prometheus."

"That's better. Report to Galactica for debriefing, Cadet."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. I appreciate this -"

Tigh switched it off, shaking his head. "The tragedy of youth - the best thing about it is that you grow out of it." He opened the comline to the Commander's office. "Tigh to Adama."

"Lieutenant Athena here."

"Lieutenant. Where is your father?"

"Attending Boxey's Junior Triad Game with Apollo aboard the Orphanage Ship. We filed his schedule."

"Hades," Tigh muttered to himself. He remembered reading that now. "Well, we have a Code Prometheus in the next system. Starbuck's handling it, and we have a pilot to debrief. I can fill the Commander in on his next duty shift."

"Hold it. You're letting Starbuck handle First Contact with unknown aliens?!"

"He is the ranking officer on site. I admit it sounds worse than -"

"I'll contact Father and Apollo immediately!"

Tigh shook his head. Starbuck may not be the ideal officer, but he was a proven leader and as such he had a good feel for what made people tick. It just took some effort to get him to use it for something besides gambling. Athena had less trust for Starbuck, but that was because of their rather ... complicated past.

Tigh gave over the command and began to make his way to Landing Bay Alpha. He had to get some information for the report for the Commander and the Quorum.
----------

Deep Space, Botany Bay System
November 11, 2999 AD


Juliet watched as the bluish-white flares of the alien ships backed through, even as her own yellow-white flare occluded half the stars.

The engine cut out, and the invisible Botanean hump-beast that had been sitting on her internal organs vanished. She took deep breaths and stretched as much as the Zero's tiny cockpit allowed. After eight hours at four gees, zero gravity was a delight. And she could finally get a decent amount of drink and eat a ration-bar.

Looking out her cockpit, she watched the drive flares of the alien probes cease.

"Zero Alpha to Militia Control. You getting this, Bebee? There are two probes - we knew that - built on a dartlike design. There are three engines with vanes, possibly cooling fins, a front pointed bow, and not a lot of room. I don't see how there's room for anything. Hold it ... there are cockpit bubbles! There are pilots! I thought they were automated or robots or something! One of them just waved at me! How the hell did they survive those accelerations?!"

The radio received; the computer processed the signal through the alien's translation program and the speakers spoke; "This is Blue Flight, off the United Colonial Battlestar Galactica. On behalf of the Quorum of Twelve and the United Colonies of Kobol, greetings."

She responded nervously, "Um ... This is Zero Alpha, of the Botany Bay Colonial Defense Militia. Welcome to the Republic of Botany Bay."

"Well, that's the formalities our governments want us to say. My name's Starbuck, my wingman's Cadet Herculea - she's new at this but shaping up nicely."

"Um, hello?" a female voice said.

Juliet found herself relaxing. This did not sound like an alien menace coming to eat brains or implant chest-bursting eggs in people. And they definitely not pirates. She had lived through eight pirate invasions in her life and fought against two of them, and this was not how pirates invaded a planet. Although they didn't sound like enlightened pacifists either. "Hello, Cadet and Starbuck. I'm Juliet. Pilot and unlikely Ambassador for my nation. I take it you're fighter pilots? What are you doing out here?"

"Passing through. We're looking for a lost colony of our mother-world of Kobol. We think it's in this general direction."

"Well, our colony's been here over four hundred years, and we haven't noticed anyone but our own people. When was this colony planted?"

"About seven thousand years ago. It was named Earth. Heard of it?"

Juliet swallowed nervously. "Um ... My ancestors were from Earth. It's five hundred nineteen light-years toward the Rim."

There was silence for a moment, then, "Earth has a colony?"

"Almost two thousand colonies, last we heard. We've been out of touch for a while."

The Cadet whispered, "Lords of Kobol grant mercy ..."

Starbuck howled a victory cry. "I can't believe it! WE MADE IT! LORDS OF KOBOL BE PRAISED WE MADE IT! Juliet? The micron we're in arms reach of each other, you get a kiss! WOOO!"

In the background, Juliet could hear the sound of Cadet Herculea weeping.
----------

User avatar
Eternal_Freedom
Castellan
Posts: 9946
Joined: 2010-03-09 02:16pm
Location: Bound in a nutshell

Re: [oBSG/BT] Mission of Civilization

Post by Eternal_Freedom » 2010-11-19 11:38am

A very promising start to a story here. I would be able to say more if I was familiar with the universe BSG as wound up in
Baltar: "I don't want to miss a moment of the last Battlestar's destruction!"
Centurion: "Sir, I really think you should look at the other Battlestar."
Baltar: "What are you babbling about other...it's impossible!"
Centurion: "No. It is a Battlestar."

Corrax Entry 7:17: So you walk eternally through the shadow realms, standing against evil where all others falter. May your thirst for retribution never quench, may the blood on your sword never dry, and may we never need you again.

MysteriousDarkLordv3
Youngling
Posts: 132
Joined: 2010-05-08 08:15am

Re: [oBSG/BT] Mission of Civilization

Post by MysteriousDarkLordv3 » 2010-11-19 12:07pm

The Battletech Universe, from which was derived the MechWarrior video games and a bunch of novels. You can get a free download with basic info about it at http://www.classicbattletech.com/index. ... ull&id=210.

User avatar
Eternal_Freedom
Castellan
Posts: 9946
Joined: 2010-03-09 02:16pm
Location: Bound in a nutshell

Re: [oBSG/BT] Mission of Civilization

Post by Eternal_Freedom » 2010-11-19 12:14pm

Ah thank you
Baltar: "I don't want to miss a moment of the last Battlestar's destruction!"
Centurion: "Sir, I really think you should look at the other Battlestar."
Baltar: "What are you babbling about other...it's impossible!"
Centurion: "No. It is a Battlestar."

Corrax Entry 7:17: So you walk eternally through the shadow realms, standing against evil where all others falter. May your thirst for retribution never quench, may the blood on your sword never dry, and may we never need you again.

User avatar
Themightytom
Sith Devotee
Posts: 2818
Joined: 2007-12-22 11:11am
Location: United States

Re: [oBSG/BT] Mission of Civilization

Post by Themightytom » 2010-11-19 01:26pm

Very nice writing style. i like the way you handle your characters especially. The byplay with the rookies is very amusing.

"Since when is "the west" a nation?"-Styphon
"ACORN= Cobra obviously." AMT
This topic is... oh Village Idiot. Carry on then.--Havok

MysteriousDarkLordv3
Youngling
Posts: 132
Joined: 2010-05-08 08:15am

Re: [oBSG/BT] Mission of Civilization

Post by MysteriousDarkLordv3 » 2010-11-20 07:53am

Militia Control, Arcology of Singh
Planet Botany Bay, Coreward Periphery
November 11, 2999 AD

Twenty-seven light-seconds away, MacRuder and the other Chiefs of the Republic listened to the conversation between Zero Alpha and the visitors.

"What the hell is this?" the News Chief Maxwell McClure said. "Is this some sort of joke?!"

MacRuder said, "If it is, they're using technology beyond even the Star League to play it. No one could survive the accelerations we saw those ships do - at least according to what we know of space travel."

One of the scholars at the computer said, "It makes sense."

MacRuder asked, "Excuse me? Who are you again?"

"Madison Jeffries, linguistic consultant. The language in this program they sent us is firmly based in proto-Indo-European, the oldest known language - a language so old it had to be deduced from all the other languages that have evolved from it. The visitor's language is an advanced and complex variant of proto-Indo-European. In fact, I'd feel comfortable in saying that it separated from our language family at least five thousand years ago."

MacRuder asked, "Are they a threat? That's all I want to know."

"I don't know. I'm a scholar, not a strategist!"

Big Chief Reginald Voort spoke; "These people have incredibly advanced technology and say they're passing through. They're armed but they're willing to talk peacefully. Maybe we can negotiate for weapons or technology. If they have Mechs or other military assets, they might even be willing to contract as mercenaries."

That brought the elephant to the middle of the room. The fear of the next pirate invasion.

"What could we offer them?" MacRuder asked.

"We won't know until we talk to them. Send an invitation."
----------

Deep Space, Botany Bay System
November 11, 2999 AD


Starbuck was feeling more cheerful than he had in a long time, if ever. The Exodus was almost over! A light in the darkness! And it was delivered by a girl to boot!

"Are you alright?" Juliet asked.

"He-hee - oh, sorry. It's just that .... four yahren since our homeworlds were destroyed. Fleeing across space crammed into a bunch of scrounged ships, being shot at, scrounging for supplies and following every drip of a clue to Earth ... now someone says, 'Oh that? It's over there.' I guess I needed a bit of catharsis."

"Geez ... Sorry. Well, for what it's worth, my government has extended an offical invitation to your government for a visit."

Starbuck grinned. "Hear that, Herculea? We've got an official invite! You zip back to the Gray Lady and deliver the invitation. I'll accompany our host back home and we'll see you again in a time-cycle or so."

"But, sire -"

"Orders. Go. Scoot."

"By your leave ..."

The cadet's Viper turned around and it's drive flared as it sped away at a hundred Colonial Standard gravities. "Well, according to protocols, I'm supposed to accept invitations if offered. Would you mind escorting me? I still owe you a kiss, I believe."

"I've heard about you fighter pilots and your habits with young women. And since as a fighter pilot I do much the same thing with young men, you're in luck."

"Woo!"

"Although you could get there before I could. I was doing best acceleration here with drop tanks and boosters. I'm almost out of juice. I was planning on a nice leisurely trip back."

"Well then, I think I can help you."

Starbuck flipped the Viper around and moved it under maneuvering jets to on top of the alien ship. "The design looks atmospheric," he commented. "Must be a treat to fly on a planet. Hold still - I'll wrap you up like we do on rescue flights and haul you in."

"Hold it! I don't know how you fly at those accelerations, but we don't do that, whatever it is!"

"Don't worry! I expand the force field, you'll hardly feel a thing! Ejecting tow cables."

As the cables came out, Starbuck popped his canopy, hooked a line to the interior of the Viper, and hopped out. He grabbed a tow cable and pulled it down, drifting himself to the alien ship. His boots found a magnetic hold on the Zero Alpha, making it easy to attach and tighten the cable.

"Militia Control, he is walking on the outside of the Zero Alpha. And he is not wearing a space suit. Repeat - he is not wearing a space suit. Just a uniform and that funny-looking helmet. And I forgot to pack any booze."

Starbuck paused and looked into the cockpit. Juliet was a dark-skinned woman, but of a different shade than the Tribe of Leo. Her features had a odd but friendly cast to them. He decided that she was cute. "Oh yeah, I'll definitely want that kiss! What's that big cable in your helmet?"

"That? It's my neurohelmet. For flying the ship."

He sorted through that for a moment. "Directly into your brain? You mean it's surgically implanted?"

"What? No, it's just a helmet."

"Weird." He hit the winch and was retracted into the Viper's cockpit. As he closed the canopy, he adjusted the ship for flying tandem. "Adjusting trim, expanding field ... and we're off!"

He hit the turbo-boost and they sped toward Botany Bay.
---------

Militia Control, Arcology of Singh
Planet Botany Bay, Coreward Periphery
November 11, 2999 AD


"YAAAA!!"

The comm officer confirmed it. "They're coming in at fifty-five gees. Zero Alpha's telemetry indicates a five gee acceleration. ETA one-point-nine hours."

"And he said his people will be here sometime tomorrow." McClure looked palid. "What are we doing?! Who are these people?! Are they aliens or human?!"

Jeffries replied, "I'd say that they're humans who were taken from Earth before we had spaceflight. Unless we take what that 'Starbuck' said at face value - in which case we and all Earth-descended humans are a branch of an ancient starfaring race that we've forgotten about."

"In either case," the Big Chief said, "They're using a technology that we haven't even dreamed about. Beyond Star League lostech, even. I've prayed to God and Altjira to find a way to save us from our doom. Now they've delivered."

MacRuder asked, "How do you mean, sir?"

Voort shooed a technician away and rewound the recording of the two pilots. He played one slip; "Oh, sorry. It's just that .... four years since our homeworlds were destroyed. Fleeing across space crammed into a bunch of scrounged ships, being shot at, scrounging for supplies and following every drip of a clue to Earth ... now someone says, 'Oh that? It's over there.' I guess I needed a bit of catharsis."

Voort looked around at the Chiefs. "These are refugees. We have a habitable planet of which we're using less than three percent. Even at our height we never numbered over a hundred million and we're down to one percent of that! If these ... 'United Colonies of Kobol' ... want a few hundred million hectares, we can give it to them! And look what they can offer in return. Spaceships! New technologies! Industries! And possibly a way to defend ourselves!" He took a deep breath to steady himself. "And just maybe we can buy a future for our planet."

"We don't know who these people are!" Resource Chief Kelso argued. "We can't just invite strangers to settle on our world! They're complete unknowns! We don't know about their culture or their beliefs or -"

"NONE OF THAT MATTERS!" the Big Chief roared. "We're past the point where anything else matters! To hell with heritage or culture or beliefs! I don't care if they want us to eat raw flesh and bow to stone idols! I want my grandchildren to grow up somewhere besides a slave pen on an alien planet! IS ANYTHING MORE IMPORTANT THAN THAT?!"

Silence answered him. He nodded. "Right. Kelso, get out those old colonial expansion plans. Things will go smoother if we follow established procedures as much as possible."
----------

Office of the President
Government Yacht Star Kobol
"Rag Tag Fleet"


"You are dismissed, Cadet Herculea."

The cadet nodded and left, leaving President Tiria, Commander Adama, and their aides.

"How much do you trust this invitation?" Tiria asked.

It was a legitimate question. The survivors of the Twelve Colonies had so many near-misses and traps on their journey that they had come to mistrust anything smelling of good fortune.

"I don't know," Adama said. "It seems to smell of ... desperation more than friendliness. Note the ship that came out to meet them - a large fighter, but it required extra fuel tanks to get to the intercept point, which was less than a hectar from their world. And according to the spectrum of their drive, it was overheating. That ship was far beyond it's range, but they sent it out anyway. Why not a patrol gunboat or a civilian space vessel with adequate range? Unless that was the best ship they had. And if they had a space fighter, they needed one."

"You think we'll be walking into some else's war?"

"I don't know. The war could be over and they're in the middle of rebuilding. Which would also explain the friendly reception and the ship."

Tiria smiled. "Well then. That would be different. You said this ship was three millennia behind our technology?"

"Their propulsion was. What do you have in mind?"

"If they are rebuilding after a war, then it stands to reason we can trade, can't we? And if they are that far behind us technologically, we can trade old and obsolete technology. Acquire some information and supplies for things we don't really need. Clear out some junk. And it would still be a fair trade."

Adama nodded. "Yes, I like the sound of that."

"Perhaps a brief layover, a few sectons? The conversion of the cargo ship Lysander to a second agro-ship requires some down time. And the mining ships can make a tylium foray - they've detected some tylium in the spectrum of a supernova remnant."

"Yes, I saw that report."

Tiria smiled. "Excellent. Then the Quorum will accept the invitation. If both of us back it, I'm sure the rest will be brought into line." She shook her head. "It amazes me that these children didn't accidentally vote themselves into the airlock."

"I know," Adama agreed. The Quorum gave him headaches enough. "But the Fleet was tired of professional politicians after the Baltar Incident. All we had were the ambitious and the devout believers in one thing or another. When it comes to actual politics, they're complete amateurs."

"So why didn't you become President? You could have done it and made them think it was their idea."

Adama held up his hands to fend off the idea. "Lords of Kobol, no! I have enough authority - too much maybe. If I had the Office of President on top of my martial-law authority and my military authority ... not to mention how people still respect my herditary claim to the High Lordship ... " He shook his head. "I'm not be a tyrant myself, but I wouldn't want to give future generations a precedent."

Tiria's face became serious. "Do you really think this is an Earth colony?" If it is ... maybe we can stop here. It's been such a long trip, I don't think anyone would mind stopping in Earth-controlled space."

Adama had been thinking the same thing. "We'll have to find out. Talk to their leaders. But personally ... if the people don't mind I wouldn't object to it."

"You know, Adama, now that we don't have politics between us, I like to think we're getting ... friendlier ..."

"Oh dear, look at the time. I have to get the Fleet ready for the transit." He hurriedly got to his feet. "Thank you for your time, Siress President."

Adama's aide, his daughter Athena, smirked as her father retreated the overly-friendly Siress Tiria.
----------

MysteriousDarkLordv3
Youngling
Posts: 132
Joined: 2010-05-08 08:15am

Re: [oBSG/BT] Mission of Civilization

Post by MysteriousDarkLordv3 » 2010-11-20 04:48pm

Militia Spaceport, Arcology of Singh
Planet Botany Bay, Coreward Periphery
November 11, 2999 AD

Defense Chief MacRuder didn't usually wait on the tarmac for the return of an ASF from a mission. But this one was different. The deep-space watch had recorded the two ships separating at the edge of the atmosphere and was monitoring their return. He drew on his cigar and exhaled a cloud of smoke, making Yeoman Rand snort and choke slightly.

Zero-Alpha came in for a short-runway landing - as she was low on fuel, the use of the catch-cable was authorized. The aerospace fighter came to an abrupt jerking halt and powered down it's engine.

The alien Viper, following discreetly behind, slowed down until it came to a stop alongside the Zero - but ten meters off the ground. It extended landing skids and in defiance of known physics lowered itself gently to the tarmac without a hint of reaction engine activity.

Captain Juliet Moreland, now climbing unsteadily out of her ship, watched the Viper's descent and began shouting, "I want one! I don't care if you use the entire bloody planetary budget, I want one!"

Starbuck disembarked and removed his helmet. His rather exotic looks - fair-haired and fair-skinned, as opposed to the mixed Australian Aboriginie-Hindu ethnic cast of three-quarters of the Bebee's population, and the African-Eurpoean blend of the bulk of the remainder - got more than a few looks. What really got the notice of the mechanics and technicians was the uniform, as opposed to the traditional skimpy outfit and cooling vest of ASF pilots and MechWarriors. What caught MacRuder's gaze was the sidearm - a huge unfamiliar pistol in a fast-draw duelling holster.

The alien looked around and saw his fellow fighter pilot being examined by a medic. With a grin on his face, he trotted over to her, swept her into his arms, and planted a kiss on her. And it lasted long enough for MacRuder and his entourage to come over. MacRuder cleared his throat, but it still took a moment for the kiss to break up.

"Woot!" Captain Moreland exclaimed. "That's a promise there, mate!"

Starbuck said something in his language and turned to MacRuder, then said something else. At their looks of incomprehension, he took a box off of his belt, worked it's control, and spoke again. "- on all Lords-damned translators," the box said. "Hello, I'm Lieutenant Starbuck, Colonial Warrior off the Battlestar Galactica. According to protocol, I'm supposed to make preliminary contact and scheduling preparations. Once we get that out of the way, we can get down to the serious business of alcohol and gambling. Take me to your leader."

Juliet laughed and embraced him from behind. "Oh I like this one!" The box spoke in alien language, translating her words.

"All fighter pilots are alike," MacRuder said - not with complete disapproval, as he used to be a fighter pilot himself. "That would be me. Defense Chief MacRuder, Botany Bay Colonial Defense Militia. Welcome to the Bebee." He gave his cigar stub a last puff and tossed it aside.

Starbuck grinned. "Oh good, a civilized people!" He took a pack from his jacket and opened it, showing a lone cigar. "And everyone keeps telling me it's a bad habit. I brought this four thousand light-years. Enjoy."

MacRuder smiled and took it. "They keep telling me that, too. It sounds like the buzzing of insects after a while." In return he offered his own humidor, from which Starbuck took a cigar. "There's a conference room this way."

As they walked to the building, the men went through the rituals of cigar-preparation, lit up, and inhaled.

MacRuder nodded in appreciation. "Nice. Mild but full. Lingers in the nose."

Starbuck's eyes went wide. He took the Botanean cigar (made from genetically-enhanced super-tobacco native-grown with Brazilian seeds brought from Earth centuries ago, cut with a native plant, and wrapped in a super-tobacco leaf) from his lips and looked at it in wonder. "Lords of Kobol have mercy," the languatron wheezed. "I think I've found Paradise."
----------

Government Bunker, Arcology of Singh
Planet Botany Bay, Coreward Periphery
November 12, 2999 AD

Midnight had passed quietly, and out the window, the sky was still lit with the launch trail of the remote probe they just sent up - actually a sensor and communications package strapped to a spare ASF engine that they didn't have parts to build another ASF around, but it should do the job of witnessing the arrival of the Colonial refugee fleet.

Big Chief Reginald Voort looked up from reading the reports and transcripts from the meeting with the Colonial Warrior Starbuck. The history of the Exodus - the Twelve Colonies of Kobol, also called the Twelve Tribes of Man and the Worlds of the Three Suns, who had lost their civilization and re-discovered spaceflight three thousand years ago(!!); the Thousand-Year War with the Cylon Alliance, a civilization of artificially intelligent robots built by alien lizards(!!); the Armistice and the Ambush of Cimtar, when fifty billion people on twelve planets died in a single day; and the four year flight across the stars with a quarter-million refugees crammed into two-hundred-twenty civilian ships with a lone WarShip for protection against a genocidal alien empire.

It sounded like a fantasy story - except for the very tangible fighter with antigravity technology and super-acceleration engines sitting in a hangar at the Militia Spaceport.

Voort shook his head. These people had been through all hells, in most ways actually worse than what the Bebee had been through the past century. He would have given them a land grant out of sheer pity, regardless of the advanced technology.

And the thought of a WarShip standing guard in space over the continent of Ned Kelly, the mere sight of it scaring the sod out of a pirate expedition, turned his frown into a smile. These Colonists would be a welcome addition to the Bebee; new industries, new technology, and a solid contribution to planetary defense. He wondered if he could marry his son to their President or something. He never liked his daughter-in-law anyway.

Voort checked intelligence reports on Lieutenant Starbuck's position; still in Captain Moreland's apartment, after six hours. The two seemed to have hit it off well. That bade well for integrating the Colonial Service into the Defense Militia.

Or vice versa ...

He foresaw that if they took the land-grant, there might be two nations on the planet, which might lead to competition. And giving them representation in Parliament might be just as bad. The largest constituency on the planet was twenty-five thousand persons - imagine giving ten times that number only a single seat and the problems that would generate! Or creating ten to fifteen new seats in the ninety-seat Parliament! He would have to find some middle ground.

Voort was quite serious when he told the other chiefs that nothing else mattered. During the 2992 raid, the pirates had occupied the arcology of Noonien for seven weeks. His sister and her children had lived there. After the pirates had left, they had vanished without a trace, along with thousands pf others. Voort had been a minor Parliamentarian representing a farm coalition. He was elected Planetary Chief in the wake of the raid under the banner of the Renewal Party, replacing the Peace Party, a faction that favored appeasement. He had built up the military as much as he could with the available resources and had implemented a shelter program to hide the children during an occupation.

If it would shield the people of Botany Bay from pirates and slavery, he'd offer whatever they wanted.

Of course, if they actually had an operational WarShip, he might not have a choice. He would have to wait and see.
---------

Militia Control, Arcology of Singh
Planet Botany Bay, Coreward Periphery
November 12, 2999 AD


The Planetary Chiefs and the Head of Parliament were watching the holotank, waiting for the first friendly interstellar visit the Bebee had since the Lyran Commonwealth's Occupation Forces left back in 2776, taking the limited interstellar trade with them. The public was kept out of the loop at this point, pending the outcome of the meeting of the governments.

Lieutenant Starbuck and Captain Moreland were there, each with a beer from the vending machines in the hall. Starbuck also had a Botanean cigar in his mouth and his free arm around Juliet, along with a grin on his face. They were speaking to each other in a broken patois of Kobolian and English, no doubt formed in the last few hours, although Starbuck's languatron was still on his hip.

The probe was sending back telemetry across forty-seven mega-kilometers. It showed the pseudo-point, what Starbuck referred to as a 'null-space', as it was two-point-six minutes ago. To human eyes, it was an empty spot. A flicker of energy, and the empty spot was filled with a ship.

A sensor officer reported, "That's ridiculous! It's too small to be a jump signature by a hundredfold! And that's not even a proper jump point!"

"Bugger that!" another officer said. "Look at that thing!"

The senior officer reported, "Decelerating at two gees - an estimated one-point-two-five klicks in length, estimated two hundred meters at the beam. Approximately the size of a Star League era Texas-class battleship."

Everyone had to admit, that was a lot of ship.

"No denying it, people," MacRuder said. "That's a WarShip."

"Battlestar," Starbuck corrected. "The Galactica."

"It - the Galactica - has come to a stop," the senior officer reported. "More of those miniature jump signatures - five, ten, fifteen -"

"Two-hundred-twenty," MacRuder said. "That's the number Lieutenant Starbuck gave us. Not counting a number of those Viper ASFs flying CAP. At least, I'd do it that way."

I took nearly twenty minutes for all the ships of the Rag-Tag Fleet (as the Militia Control staffers rapidly nicknamed it) to appear. And they gave the technology and ship consultants fits. They were all too small to be JumpShips, the EMP signature was impossibly small for a hyperspace jump, a pseudo-point was useless for a hyperspace jump according to accepted scientific dogma, and their designs were ludicrous.

The twenty-five Vipers that came through last caused a couple of consultants to walk out while loudly proclaiming their intention to become sandwich vendors since everything they ever knew was obviously wrong, because the very concept of a light fighter capable of a lone hyperspace jump was sheer insanity.

"Sorry!" Starbuck called out as they left.

"The Rag-Tag Fleet's forming up," the sensor officer reported. "If they make two gees like the big one did, they should be here in twenty-seven hours - JESUS BUGGER ME!"

"Report!" the senior officer snapped.

"The Galactica's in orbit!" the officer yelled hysterically. "It disappeared from the probe signal and appeared in high orbital space!"

That caused a near-riot until the Big Chief shouted everyone down. When they were calm, Voort asked Starbuck, "Lieutenant, what did we just see?"

"Lightspeed," he said. He stumbled over his limited English vocabulary for a second, then switched on the languatron output. "The Galactica can generate a field that cancels inertia. This allows the ship to move at the speed of light for short periods. Switch off the field and it resumes moving as it did before lightspeed. They must be looking forward to the visit."

Science consultant Greori Illyan snapped his fingers. "That explains it! The ship was moving at lightspeed - the same speed as the signal from the probe! So while the Galactica took one-hundred-forty-seven seconds to get here, the signal lag made it look like it teleported!" He was almost hopping up and down. "Ooo I want to look through their science texts! I'll sell my kidneys for a science text describing that inertialess effect!"

"Gotta love a man who loves his work," Starbuck's languatron said.

"I couldn't agree more," Big Chief Voort said with a grin. Engaging pirates on the ground was suidice; in as deep of space as possible was preferrable. If his science wanks figured out that lightspeed effect, he could engage them almost at the jump point!

"The Galactica's achieved orbit," the senior officer reported. "They've sent a signal asking for the permission to send a delegation."

"Open a channel, voice recording," Voort said. "This is Planetary Chief Reginald Voort. In the name of the People and Parliament, welcome to Botany Bay. Permission for landing granted. I'm looking forward to the meeting."

A minute later, the radio officer said, "Receiving message for Big Chief Voort."

"On speaker."

A woman's voice came on. "This is President Tiria of the Quorum of Twelve. On behalf of the Twelve Colonies of Kobol, I thank the Government of Botany Bay for their gracious invitation. Commander Adama of the Battlestar Galactica and myself shall accompany the delegation. We look forward to renewing our relationship with the Tribe of Ophiuchus and our brethren from the Colony of Earth. May the Lords of Kobol and the God of Creation grant us the wisdom to serve our peoples."

Voort looked at Starbuck. "'Tribe of Ophiuchus'?"

"That's the tribe that founded the Colony of Earth seven thousand years ago," Starbuck replied. "I don't think anyone knows a lot about them. Commander Adama is the big expert in the Fleet."

Consultant Jeffries spoke up. "I did some research last night. The oldest written records of humanity date from about that time. And Yahwehist myth paces the creation of the world in that period. Plus, there was a religious movement in the first century before spaceflight that maintained that the oldest human civilizations were founded by extraterrestrial beings. They cited some very flimsy evidence including vague myth coorespondences and pyramid-style building design on separate continents. Did you have a lot of pyramids back home, Lieutenant Starbuck?" That last was asked with an almost amused tone.

"Like these?"

Starbuck pulled out what looked like a book-style wallet and opened it. Inside was a photograph of Starbuck and two other men in the same uniform. And behind them was a cityscape of advanced technology, awash with lights - and all the large buildings were pyramid shaped.

Juliet asked, "Who are these two fellows?"

"My wingmen - Apollo and Boomer. This was the night we graduated from Warrior Academy training. That's Marduk City on the planet Caprica. We tore a path through the Social District that night. Luckily the tribunal agreed to drop the charges."

Jeffries grinned. "Oh dear. you know what this means? I'll be responsible for rewriting the history books on thousands of worlds and completely overturning known human history. Millions of historians are going to want to lynch me for centuries to come." He gave a victory cry. "This is a great day to be alive!"
----------

The discussions between the Chiefs and parliament of Botany Bay and the Quorum of Twelve went extremely smoothly. Perhaps too smoothly.

The two sides had too much in common. Both were desparate and on their last legs. Both were backed into corners by forces beyond their control. If they had not been so desperate, the talks could have taken months, or even years. They were too anxious to make the Big Deal that would solve all their problems, and met agreement on the main issues in a matter of hours.

Future generations would berate their memories for acting so fast, citing the many problems and inelegant solutions to the union of the Twelve Tribes and the Botaneans.

But none would ever discuss dissolving the union.

User avatar
Eternal_Freedom
Castellan
Posts: 9946
Joined: 2010-03-09 02:16pm
Location: Bound in a nutshell

Re: [oBSG/BT] Mission of Civilization

Post by Eternal_Freedom » 2010-11-20 05:30pm

Oh bravo! Running along very nicely indeed. I think you have the attitudes of the residents of BeBe very well done. I particularly like the fighter pilot and the technicians ("I want one!" and my favourite "...JESUS BUGGER ME"

Very Aussie
Baltar: "I don't want to miss a moment of the last Battlestar's destruction!"
Centurion: "Sir, I really think you should look at the other Battlestar."
Baltar: "What are you babbling about other...it's impossible!"
Centurion: "No. It is a Battlestar."

Corrax Entry 7:17: So you walk eternally through the shadow realms, standing against evil where all others falter. May your thirst for retribution never quench, may the blood on your sword never dry, and may we never need you again.

User avatar
LadyTevar
White Mage
White Mage
Posts: 20332
Joined: 2003-02-12 10:59pm

Re: [oBSG/BT] Mission of Civilization

Post by LadyTevar » 2010-11-21 12:04am

As a fan of the original BSG and of BattleTech, I approve of this story.
Image
Librium Arcana, Where Gamers Play!
Nitram, slightly high on cough syrup: Do you know you're beautiful?
Me: Nope, that's why I have you around to tell me.
Nitram: You -are- beautiful. Anyone tries to tell you otherwise kill them.
"A life is like a garden. Perfect moments can be had, but not preserved, except in memory. LLAP" -- Leonard Nimoy, last Tweet

User avatar
Setzer
Requiescat in Pace
Posts: 3138
Joined: 2002-08-30 11:45am
Contact:

Re: [oBSG/BT] Mission of Civilization

Post by Setzer » 2010-11-21 01:15am

I didn't see much of oBSG, but I know enough to follow both sides. It's really intriguing, and I think the periphery is mostly ignored in favor of IS politics. At least when it comes to fanfics anyway.
Image

MysteriousDarkLordv3
Youngling
Posts: 132
Joined: 2010-05-08 08:15am

Re: [oBSG/BT] Mission of Civilization

Post by MysteriousDarkLordv3 » 2010-11-21 06:08am

"Rag Tag Fleet"
4th yahren of the Great Exodus
November 14, 2999 AD

"This is IFB - Inter-Fleet Broadcasting. Welcome to 'The Zara Report' "


"Hello, Humanity! This is Zara, bringing you the news and personalities of the Fleet. For several time-cycles the Fleet has been awash with rumors concerning that favorite topic - Earth. Usually, these rumors have no basis in fact.

"Well, after inquiring of the Quorum of Twelve and the Colonial Service, I can tell you now that for once these rumors do have an element of fact. We are currently in orbit of a planet called 'Botany Bay', a sub-colony of Earth. A ship from Botany Bay was encountered four time-cycles ago and formalities were exchanged. The Quorum has been in contact with the government of Botany Bay for two time-cycles, conducting negotiations. So today, our regular format will be interrupted so the Quorum can make an official statement.

"I now present President Tiria of the Quorum of Twelve."

The popular President came on the screen, looking tired but triumphant. "People of the Colonies. This is a great day. We are currently in orbit of the planet Botany Bay - affectionately called 'the Bebee' by it's million human inhabitants. They have given us permission to stay in their system temporarily. And from them, we have acquired good and bad news.

"First, the good news. According to their records, this is one of approximately two thousand sub-colonies of Earth. This is an area of space known to the Tribe of Ophiuchus as the Periphery. Towards the Galactic Rim is the Inner Sphere, and Earth is the zero coordinate of their star charts. We now have exact coordinates for Earth. By the help of the Lords of Kobol, it turns out we were already on that course and would have found it in half a yahren anyway.

"Now the bad news. Botany Bay has not had friendly contact with other worlds in over two centuries. And when they last had such contact, all of the worlds that they knew were involved in a enormous civil war. All the contacts they have had since then have been pirate raids and hostile occupations. For all they know, there may be no interstellar civilization left. Earth may have been destroyed. There is no information on the subject.

"The Quorum has debated this problem. If we go on to Earth, we may be taking the Fleet into pirate infested barbarian space only to find a dead world. Any other direction takes us into the unknown, save backtracking, and we all know where that leads us. There are too many unknowns.

"What we do know is that we are in a region of space where there are no Cylons. The world below us is almost pristine and untouched, easily able to absorb another quarter-million people. And the known space powers are pirates with a minimal space warfare capability. If we stay here, we can civilize this area of space, and perhaps contact other civilized spacefarers and learn about the rest of our brethren.

"The Republic of Botany Bay has offered us citizenship if we wish, or just a grant of land and autonomy. Their industries have been ravaged by piracy, and we could help them rebuild what they have lost. They can give us the land and manpower and resources we need to rebuild what we have lost. We could also settle elsewhere - the Botany Bay charts say that this space is rich in habitable worlds - but we would be starting from the beginning in a raw wilderness. And the space around us would still be claimed by pirates.

"This decision is too great for a casual vote of the Quorum, as halting our Exodus would mean an end to martial law authority and the state of emergency. So the Quorum of Twelve hereby schedules a plebescite for two days from now. Vote on whether we join the Colony of Botany Bay, continue our journey to Earth, or found a new colony elsewhere. Discuss, research, and vote. And pray."

----------

Planet Botany Bay, Coreward Periphery
November 16, 2999 AD

"Welcome to the Bebee Holovision Network News. This is your host, Tanya Alexander, standing in for Maya Verdeschi who can't be here tonight due to events that I deny all complicity in. Speaking of mysterious events, in the top of the news tonight, the mysterious ships that have been sighted in orbit by amateur telescopes for the past three days. While the Office of the Big Chief has been adamant that this is not a pirate invasion, they have been reluctant to speak of what those ships actually are, fueling conspiracy theories that include a covert government space program, alien space bats, and swamp gas. Tonight, the Big Chief himself, Reginald Voort, will address the population live to answer this question. Before the Chief comes on, here is our government activities expert, Apun Ditweiler, to help us shed some light onto the government's recent actions. Welcome to the studio, Apun."

"Glad to be here, Tanya."

"Have you any opinion as to the government's behavior?"

"I think it makes sense if you look at other actions taken in that period."

"What sort of actions?"

"The Militia Spaceport has had an unusual amount of activity - more activity in two days than it normally sees in a full year. Also, two thousand militia troops have been dispatched to the ghost arcology of Khan. Construction companies have been contracted and moved to Khan as well."

"So what could all that amount to, Apun?"

"It might mean an occupation force from space. Since there have been no raids or weapons fire, they would appear to be friendly. But I would say offhand, Tanya, that the Bebee is about to rejoin interstellar society."

Tanya paused, drank a sip of beer, and asked, "That's a rather ... dramatic claim, Apun. And exactly why do you think that?"

"An abandoned arcology is being reclaimed. More space activity than we've seen since the last pirate raid is taking place. And there are over two hundred unknown ships in orbit. Either we're being conquered and Khan is going to be their garrison or someone's about to colonize us."

"That ... seems to make sense," Tanya said. "So who would be moving in?"

Apun shrugged. "Who can say? The Lyrans returned, a new Rim Worlds Republic - even aliens for all we know."

"May I remind you that you said something similar before the pirate raid of 2992? And exactly how many innocent people with placards reading 'Welcome to the Camerons' were killed by pirate Battlemechs?"

Apun looked away, fidgeting in embarrassment. "That was different. That was only -"

"Hate to interrupt, but the Big Chief's about to come on."

The holoimage viewed by the million inhabitants of the Bebee changed to a view of a comfortable private room. In the Botanean tradition of casual informality, itself an outgrowth of the Periphery dislike of authority, the Big Chief was dressed in a casual denim outfit like many people wore in the evenings.

"Good evening. No doubt you've been listening to rumors conceruing the ships in orbit - rumors encompassing everything from the Return of the Star League to brain-sucking aliens. As usual, the truth is somewhere in-between. And in this case, a bit to the left. You're going to have trouble following this - I know I did.

"The whole thing began thousands of years ago on a planet named Kobol. Kobol was inhabited by thirteen tribes with their own distinct cultures. Due to an ecological catastrophe, the Kobolians were forced to evacuate their world. One tribe disagreed and while twelve tribes went together, the thirteenth tribe waited to the last minute and went in a different direction. The world the thirteenth tribe colonized seven thousand years ago was allegedly Earth, making all Earth-descended humans members of what the Kobolians call the 'Tribe of Ophiuchus'.

"Wait - it gets better.

"The other twelve tribes each colonized a planet, lost their civilization, then regained it. Three thousand years ago, they rediscovered spaceflight. Two thousand years ago, they formed a political union - the United Colonies, governed by the Quorum of Twelve. One thousand years ago, they made an enemy - an alien race called Cylons who decided that they could not permit humanity to exist. For a thousand years the Twelve Colonies and the Cylons fought.

"Four years ago, the Cylons won. Twelve planets - fifty billion humans - were destroyed in the last battle of their Thousand Year War.

"In orbit of our world are two hundred twenty-one ships, a rag-tag fleet herriedly scrounged together and crammed with refugees while their worlds burned. Over two hundred thousand humans - our long-lost brothers, fleeing genocide. The last of the Kobolians.

"In the name of the Parilament and People, I have granted the Quorum of Twelve extraterritorial settlement rights to the Khan region, including the abandoned arcology of Khan. In return, the Kobolians will help us with new technologies surpassing even the height of the Star League, new industries to rebuild our economy. This will be aided by the technology the Kobolians brought with them, including the equivalent of over two hundred JumpShips. Interstellar trade will resume - starting here.

"In addition, to aid the defense of Botany Bay, the Kobolians bring the last remnant of their military,"
The image showed an orbital shot, including a great gray ship with two pontoons. "The Battlestar Galactica, a WarShip superior to the best vessels of the Star League Defense Forces and carrying over a hundred advanced fighters." Voort's face came on, grinning. "I can comfortably say that with the arrival of the Kobolians, our world is as safe from pirates as can be imagined.

"The coming days will be filled with labor. And with hope. New industries, new infrastructure, a new age. The Kobolians will be autonomous on their own land, in effect a second nation on our planet. But our economies and militaries will be united. And in the fullness of time, a new people will emerge. A stronger race with the best of all the varied branches of Man. And finally ... finally ... we will all get what we want, to be able to watch our children grow up without fear.

"Good evening."


Tanya and Apun came back on, looking completely gobsmacked. Apun finally smirked and said, "See? I told you so."

"This isn't exactly what you said -"

"Who cares? It's close enough."
----------

Former Arcology of Khan, renamed Aurora
Planet Botany Bay, Coreward Periphery
November 16-21, 2999 AD

The people of the Fleet had voted overwhelmingly - ninety-five percent - in favor of colonizing Botany Bay. The Botanean proposal of two independent nations with interconnected economies and militaries was rapidly adopted by the Quorum, giving the remnants of the Twelve Colonies a framework to rebuild themselves while keeping some trace of their past.

Shuttles were crammed with people, ships made landings, and the Children of Kobol tasted natural air for the first time in four yahrens. And they moved into the shelters set up for them by the Bontaneans, rolled up their sleeves, and got to work.

"Got to work' - such a deceptively simple phrase. Like saying 'I dropped the atom bomb and it went bang.'

After four years of inactivity, the pent-up energy of the Colonials had exploded over the arcology in a frenzy of repair, installation, conversion, and adaptation. Homeless and despairing for so long, they took the long-abandoned arcology and made it their own. They even stripped it of it's old name and gave it a new one; Aurora, an Old High Gemonese word for 'dawn'.

Now the old arcology blazed with light at night, illuminating the newest public works building on the planet - the great pyramidal power plant, built in just three days out of an old Kobolian waste-reclamation ship, using tylium-enhanced fusion to bring power not just to Aurora but the entire planet.

In five days, the survivors of Kobol reignited hope in a world that had been slowly dying, as well as in themselves.

The Kobolian reclamation robots were busy dismantling the old fusion plants and rebuilding the infrastructures of not only Aurora but the arcologies of Singh and Noonian as well. Several of the older and more decrepit of the Kobolian ships were scavenged and the materials used to build the first heavy industrial factories to be seen in two centuries, with plans for a variety of useful IndustrialMech and AgriculturalMech designs and in the years to come even DropShips.

In the fields, new crops brought from the agro-ship were planted, nurtured in Botanean soil by agricultural experts of both societies. Projections predicted a fivefold increase in food production; within a year not only would surpluses be at the highest level ever, but an equal amount could be put into cargo ships and exported to other planets (as soon as they found a suitable market). And there was a huge amount of arable land as yet untapped.

Meanwhile, the engineers and technicians of both cultures were having holy revelations in rapid cascades.

The archives of Botany Bay had the procedures for creating the substance called 'myomer', the material that made giant Mechs possible, but the world lacked the facilities to create it. Now the first myomer production facilities would be online in a week, built by Kobolian robotic industry, and the Kobolian engineers were agog at the possibilities of the muscle-fiber-like material. All their robotics used motors and hydraulics and magnetics; even the Cylons built themselves in that fashion. Now, the vast simplification of designs and control systems that myomer made possible opened entire new horizons in the construction of vehicles and tools and even large buildings.

The Kobolians' force field technology was no less a wonder to the Botaneans. Kobolian force fields took high-energy effects and spread them out on a quantum level throughout a volume. These were used most dramatically to protect their military vehicles, but they were also used in their reactors and weapons to control overheating. This was how a Viper could hold massive-output power plants and naval-battery-output weapons without cooking the pilot alive. Replacing huge heat sinks and insulators with a few kilos of energy conduits radically altered the designs for every large vehicle, device, and system.

Similar epiphanies were taking place in medical arts with Kobolian enhancements and regenerators and the records of old Inner Sphere bionics technology; in the computer sciences with the Kobolian programming skills matched with Star League neural-net-architecture systems; and in a variety of other fields.

And Kobolian robotics technology was combining with the untapped resources of Botany Bay to change these new technologies into factories and industries, even as teachers educated a workforce to work with these technologies.

It was a good time to be alive.
---------

City of Hope
Planet Erewhon, Coreward Periphery
November 21, 2999 AD


Erewhon was a rich world as unallied Periphery planets went. It had a small factory complex left over from the Star League that allowed the production of a variety of useful items. Some of these included autocannon ammunition, Short-Range Missile loadouts, and a reasonably-priced knockoff brand of Durallax vehicle armor, as well as a variety of electronics systems.

This made Erewhon a popular place in the pirate-infested Periphery, as well as a common stop for parties in the war-torn Lyran Commonwealth and Draconic Combine who didn't want their military purchases easily traced. This kept Erewhon reasonably safe from pirates, as the pirates kept each other in check to keep their supply routes open.

Johann Frankenstein was not really named Frankenstein. It was the traditional name of whoever led the 'mercenary company' called Frankenstein's Monsters. Of course, this organization had as much resemblance to a mercenary company as a rabid Terran timber wolf had to a pure-bred Maltese. But saying 'pirate' out loud on Erewhon was Bad Manners.

His meal had been exquisite, the wine had been delectable, and he enjoyed the sunset on the dining balcony of the most expensive hotel on the planet. And in his bedchambers a young lady was waiting, trembling in ... some emotion. He didn't care which.

A steward brought a telephone on a tray. "Sir, it's your office."

With a gracious nod he picked it up. "Frankenstein."

"This is Helle,"
his quartermaster answered. "We have a new contract for autocannon propellant. And the warehouses are empty."

"Oh. It's that time already? How long to preparations are complete?"

"A day or so."


"Excellent. I'll meet you at the Gargoyle in the morning."

As he hung up, a smile crossed Johann's face. He had a good life here. But a vital part of that life was the bread-and-butter of Frankenstein's Monsters - the Triangle Run. And it was during that run that he felt the most alive.

Seven days out to jump-point, two hyperspace jumps, and six days in to a little world called Botany Bay. They had just enough armament to make a landing exciting. Spend a few weeks collecting some thousands of slaves, with all the joys of fighting guerillas and slave-collecting. Each had their own sublime pleasures.

Then six days out, three hyperspace jumps, and eight days in to Apollo. The former capital of the Republic was a hub for what little legitimate traffic still went through this area of the Periphery, as well as being an excellent location to convert loot into money for the unit, and ale and whores for the men. The slave markets were always busy, and often the slaves could be traded directly for raw materials.

After a couple of weeks of business, eight days out, two hyperspace jumps, and seven days in and home again. Four months all told, and the warehouses would be full again of raw materials to sell to the manufactories of Erewhon for the next few years, freelancing his forces on the side for pety cash and to keep from getting rusty. Even with the upkeep of two JumpShips, half a dozen DropShips, five ASFs, and five lances of Battlemechs, as well as a hundred infantry, it was still a good profit.

He was hoping there hadn't been too much poaching in the seven years since his last visit to Botany Bay. He liked it when they struggled helplessly.

That thought reminded Johann of the young lady waiting in his room. He left a modest tip at the table and headed inside, whistling.

It was a good life.

User avatar
Eternal_Freedom
Castellan
Posts: 9946
Joined: 2010-03-09 02:16pm
Location: Bound in a nutshell

Re: [oBSG/BT] Mission of Civilization

Post by Eternal_Freedom » 2010-11-21 10:07am

This is coming at a quite astounding pace. And that's a good thing.

I get the impression this is a sort of transition-chapter, hence the lack of inter-personal scenes and dialogue (apart from news reports, which I thought were very well done)

Would I be right in thinking this chapter was to get the nitty-gritty colonising bits out of the way before pirate raids and the fun of Galactica in combat?
Baltar: "I don't want to miss a moment of the last Battlestar's destruction!"
Centurion: "Sir, I really think you should look at the other Battlestar."
Baltar: "What are you babbling about other...it's impossible!"
Centurion: "No. It is a Battlestar."

Corrax Entry 7:17: So you walk eternally through the shadow realms, standing against evil where all others falter. May your thirst for retribution never quench, may the blood on your sword never dry, and may we never need you again.

MysteriousDarkLordv3
Youngling
Posts: 132
Joined: 2010-05-08 08:15am

Re: [oBSG/BT] Mission of Civilization

Post by MysteriousDarkLordv3 » 2010-11-21 10:32am

Thanks. The speed is because I'm using the notes I made during my busy times - most of my time is taken up by job-hunting while taking care of my elderly mother until her bones heal and telling my ex-wife I can't show up in court in another state. ( :banghead: ) Sorry about that. Don't know how long I'll be able to keep up the pace.

There's two bits before the Galactica sees combat, but I think you'll approve of those. Character interaction and a bit of 'splodey. :D

User avatar
Eternal_Freedom
Castellan
Posts: 9946
Joined: 2010-03-09 02:16pm
Location: Bound in a nutshell

Re: [oBSG/BT] Mission of Civilization

Post by Eternal_Freedom » 2010-11-21 10:40am

As long as we get the good old Galactica into the fight at some point, and properly sihp-to-ship not mobbed by fighters, I shall be happy

And don't be sorry for being busy man, happens to all of us. Heck, I started a story a year ago and I got up to chapter 8 or 11 after two months. Havent written any more since then :(
Baltar: "I don't want to miss a moment of the last Battlestar's destruction!"
Centurion: "Sir, I really think you should look at the other Battlestar."
Baltar: "What are you babbling about other...it's impossible!"
Centurion: "No. It is a Battlestar."

Corrax Entry 7:17: So you walk eternally through the shadow realms, standing against evil where all others falter. May your thirst for retribution never quench, may the blood on your sword never dry, and may we never need you again.

User avatar
Jawawithagun
Jedi Master
Posts: 1141
Joined: 2002-10-10 07:05pm
Location: Terra Secunda

Re: [oBSG/BT] Mission of Civilization

Post by Jawawithagun » 2010-11-21 12:00pm

Eternal_Freedom wrote:As long as we get the good old Galactica into the fight at some point, and properly sihp-to-ship not mobbed by fighters, I shall be happy
Considering the Galactica is far faster, more manoeuvrable and actually built for for space-combat, unlike BT ships, don't hold your breath for it.

It's more likely that she'll have to fight pirate aerospace fighters in low orbit and in atmosphere to protect ground installations and those ships of the rag-tag fleet that can't run further than the pirates can go.

Or the Cylons show up.
"I said two shot to the head, not three." (Anonymous wiretap, Dallas, TX, 11/25/63)

Only one way to make a ferret let go of your nose - stick a fag up its arse!

there is no god - there is no devil - there is no heaven - there is no hell
live with it
- Lazarus Long

User avatar
LadyTevar
White Mage
White Mage
Posts: 20332
Joined: 2003-02-12 10:59pm

Re: [oBSG/BT] Mission of Civilization

Post by LadyTevar » 2010-11-21 06:35pm

I believe the Colonials will have this battle wrapped up before the Pirates hit the ground.

The BT Jump Ships are battle-capable, however, it's custom not to attack them because there's so few of them left. Its' far better to offer terms of surrender to preserve the technology. DropShips are not as battle-worthy in flight, but depending on the model they are able to be used as a defensive position at the LandingZone. Once again, BattleTech norm is to try to capture than destroy, especially if it's one of the rarer models. To the BT mindset, there's been so much Tech loss, it's far better to salvage as much technology as possible.

BattleTech weapons include Lasers, Particle Projection Cannons (PPCs), AutoCannon, and Missiles (mostly unguided), and Gauss (mass) Cannon. Pistols, rifles, SMGs and Flamers are normall infantry weapons, either ballistic or laser depending on what they can afford/scrounge. Missiles, PPCs, Autocannon, and Gauss Cannon are mostly too large for Infantry, outside of the rare weapons teams. The tech just didn't survive.

Tanks, AeroSpace Fighters, and Mechs are measured by tonnage, Light (5-20T), Medium (20-50T), Large (50-75) and Heavy (75+). They use the same weaponry, appropriately up-sized from the Infantry models. The bigger they are, the bigger the weapons load-out each one can carry, as well as thicker armor.

DropShips and Capitol (jump) Ships are again measured by tonnage (Light, Medium, Large, Heavy), which affects their weapons and cargo capacity. Once again, only the same weapons are available, suitably upsized. Only the JumpShips are jump-capable, all other ships are limited to sub-light speeds with ion/fusion drives. JumpShips stay at the jump-points, readying and refueling from the jump out.


Now, let's look at the Colonials, who exclusively use Lasers. The tech has been used thousands of years, to the point 'traditional' weapons of a nomad culture is a laser-bolo.
However, the Colonials do not have an Infantry, due to their refugee numbers. They do not have tanks, they do not have Mechs. The Vipers are Aerospace capable, and can out-perform their largest BT counterparts despite being classified as Light tonnage thanks to their shield technology. They have no dropships, only unarmed shuttles, possibly no more than two dozen passengers. The Galactica herself has multiple anti-fighter platforms as well as a massive Laser Capitol weapon set in her forward arc. Her lightspeed sprint allows her full control of the battlefield.

Besides these obvious advantages, the Colonials do not have the same reluctance to destroy Tech beyond recovery. They will fire on the pirates without mercy.
Image
Librium Arcana, Where Gamers Play!
Nitram, slightly high on cough syrup: Do you know you're beautiful?
Me: Nope, that's why I have you around to tell me.
Nitram: You -are- beautiful. Anyone tries to tell you otherwise kill them.
"A life is like a garden. Perfect moments can be had, but not preserved, except in memory. LLAP" -- Leonard Nimoy, last Tweet

xt828
Padawan Learner
Posts: 261
Joined: 2010-03-23 03:40am

Re: [oBSG/BT] Mission of Civilization

Post by xt828 » 2010-11-22 01:51am

The abandoned arcologies of Khan, Noonien, and Singh. Nicely played

User avatar
Master_Baerne
Jedi Council Member
Posts: 1984
Joined: 2006-11-09 08:54am
Location: Wouldn't you like to know?

Re: [oBSG/BT] Mission of Civilization

Post by Master_Baerne » 2010-11-22 07:26am

Damn good, this is. My congratulations.
Conversion Table:

2000 Mockingbirds = 2 Kilomockingbirds
Basic Unit of Laryngitis = 1 Hoarsepower
453.6 Graham Crackers = 1 Pound Cake
1 Kilogram of Falling Figs - 1 Fig Newton
Time Between Slipping on a Banana Peel and Smacking the Pavement = 1 Bananosecond
Half of a Large Intestine = 1 Semicolon

User avatar
Eternal_Freedom
Castellan
Posts: 9946
Joined: 2010-03-09 02:16pm
Location: Bound in a nutshell

Re: [oBSG/BT] Mission of Civilization

Post by Eternal_Freedom » 2010-11-22 11:47am

Lady evar, I was about to jump in and oint out that Galactica would have no compulsions to capture BT ships.

Then I read the rest of your post :)

Galactica also has eavier anti-shi turrets scattered over the hull, mixed with the anti-fighter ones. So Galactica has an impressie anti-ship capability even without the "forward heavy lasers" (I love that, always implied their were other heavy lasers aft or starboard :) )

Ofc, as you pointed out, she can ramp up to lightspeed, fly away, turn about and come back head-on with the bow guns blazing. Kinda hard to fight that without similar tech

On another note, the Galactica t least has the Landrams which look like small APC's, with laser turrets. Which if there is a big firepower disparity could be just as effective as battletechs
Baltar: "I don't want to miss a moment of the last Battlestar's destruction!"
Centurion: "Sir, I really think you should look at the other Battlestar."
Baltar: "What are you babbling about other...it's impossible!"
Centurion: "No. It is a Battlestar."

Corrax Entry 7:17: So you walk eternally through the shadow realms, standing against evil where all others falter. May your thirst for retribution never quench, may the blood on your sword never dry, and may we never need you again.

MysteriousDarkLordv3
Youngling
Posts: 132
Joined: 2010-05-08 08:15am

Re: [oBSG/BT] Mission of Civilization

Post by MysteriousDarkLordv3 » 2010-11-22 06:30pm

Government Bunker, Arcology of Singh
Planet Botany Bay, Coreward Periphery
November 21, 2999 AD

A man entered the Big Chief's office. "Sir? I'm Maximus DeFoe of the Noonien Industrial Consortium? You asked to see me?"

"Yes, I did. This is Greori Illyan, science consultant, and Captain Paras of the Mining Ship Majahaul." After handshakes (including the Kobolian forearm-grip variant) were passed around, the Chief got down to business. "Before the Rag-Tag Fleet - sorry about that -"

Paras shook his head. "No problem," his language device said. "Many of the things we called the Fleet don't translate at all - at least in ways you would want the children to hear. You have no idea how sick you can get of living in a cargo bay with fifty other people."

"Anyway, before the Kobolians arrived in our system, they had detected the spectrum of a substance called tylium in a nebula."

Illyan interrupted, "Tylium is their term of an exotic state of matter created in supernovae and stellar birth events that binds to normal matter and can be used as an energy source. The small amounts the Kobolians have given us have proven to enhance nuclear fusion reactions in standard engines, and by themselves produce almost as much energy as a fusion reaction but without the attendant radiation hazards, and the engines are simpler in design with all the attendant benefits -"

"And why does this involve me?" DeFoe interrupted.

Voort said, "A Kobolian Starchaser-class high-speed reconnaisance craft has recently returned from charting a suitable course to that nebula - incidentally, the Dark Nebula. The Kobolians intend to send the Majahaul to the Dark Nebula to mine there. We would like you to accompany them to study their mining techniques."

"The Dark Nebula?" That nebula played a part in the history of the Rim Worlds Republic, as the founders of the Rim Worlds Republic had to skirt it in their exodus from the Inner Sphere. Many pre-independence folktales told of pirates and hidden worlds in that nebula. It dominated two degrees of the winter sky, illuminated from behind and the side by other stars. "How long would I be gone?"

Illyan began lecturing, "Using the methods of the Kearny-Fuchida jumpdrive, it would take nearly a month just to get there. But the Kobolian jump-drive exploits what we call the 'pseudo-point' phenomenon to make a low-energy hyperspace jump between two solar gravity wells. And their inertialess drive, which they call 'lightspeed', can cross a solar system in hours at most. Combining the two, a vessel can reach the Dark Nebula in approximately four days."

Captain Paras added, "We intend to spend twenty days in mining operations. So the entire mission should take twenty-eight days."

Voort asked, "You game, DeFoe?"

DeFoe smirked. "You're asking me if I want to take a month off to be one of the first Botaneans to travel between the stars in over two centuries and incidentally research advanced techniques of my profession? You should ask how much I'm willing to pay you - or how many stampeding serpent-bulls it would take to keep me away! When do we leave?"

Paras explained, "The Majahaul lacks lightspeed drive - on our own, it would take two months just to get to the nebula. Only the Galactica has lightspeed drive, so we link up to the Galactica and she carries us there. We developed the protocols for this during the Exodus, so we could mine while minimizing danger to the Fleet. It will take another seven days for the preparations. The Galactica will drop us off at the nebula with a light squadron for defense and pick us up later."

"Two days," DeFoe said thoughtfully. "That'll give me time to pack, give the missus a royal send-off, and rub my colleagues' collective noses in it. I'm in!"
---------

Militia Spaceport, Arcology of Singh
Planet Botany Bay, Coreward Periphery
November 22, 2999 AD

Starbuck finished looking over the Botanean ship Zero-X1, the former Zero-Alpha. The technicians and engineers used the badly-abused craft as a testbed for the blending of the two culture's technologies, so her innards had undergone what the brain-guys called 'a substantial refit' and what Captain Juliet Moreland and Lieutenant Starbuck of Caprica called a 'complete disemboweling'.

All the heat sinks had been removed and replaced with a Kobolian heat-controlling force field system, reducing the weight of the craft by half. The lasers had been removed and replaced with a pair of Kobolian laser-torpedo cannons, increasing it's firepower by a factor of eight. A defensive force field of ten meters in depth - comparable to a Viper - had been installed and the armor tonnage was doubled. An anti-gravity system improved atmospheric flight by removing gravitational considerations as well as making the light fighter into a VTOL craft. And an inertial compensation system was installed, reducing the effects of acceleration on the pilot by a factor of ten.

The engine, throughly ravaged by Captain Moreland's epic flight, was totally dismantled and rebuilt. The magnetics had been tweaked with some Kobolian know-how, increasing their efficiency, and a solium injector system was added. The Zero-X1 was now capable of forty gees thrust, or sixty on overthrust.

While still inferior to Colonial Vipers in acceleration, range, and space maneuverability, the Zero-X1 was superior to the Vipers in atmospheric maneuverability and general durability. The engineers and pilots agreed that in space, a Viper would have the edge, but they argued about which would prevail in atmosphere. The engineering teams were already promising that this would be the prototype for a new series that would be competitive with a Viper, lacking only the interstellar jump capability that had been retrofitted into many of the Galactica's Vipers.

"Well?" Juliet asked from behind him. "What do you think?"

"It's a fraking miracle," he said sincerely. In the past few days he had picked up enough English to not need the languatron too much. And her Kobolian was improving as well. "This bird's been through almost two thousand years of development in just a few days. And it works!"

Starbuck meant that. This ship had been built out of battle-scattered remnants of several other two-century-old ships; not all the parts were compatible with each other; and then it had been modified not just once but several times in a desperate effort to keep it flying. Now it had been rebuilt again using technology from a totally different civilization. While the Thirteenth Tribe's space technology wasn't anything to write songs about, it's flight technicians were miracle workers even by Colonial definitions.

"It does more than 'works'," Juliet said, "It bloody dances. Want to give it a try?"

He shook his head. "Sorry, sweetling, but haven't you heard?"

"About what?"

"I'm a Colonial Warrior - my nervous system was boosted in training to be able of compete with Cylons. I can't use the neurohelmet. They tried us on your training simulators, and my buddy Jolly almost had his brains melted."

Juliet gave a low whistle. "You mean your nervous system is boosted enough to compete with a pilot with a neurohelmet?"

"No - your neurohelmet boosts your nerves enough to compete with a Warrior."

"Oh really?"

"Oh really!"

The two pilots looked at each other and grinned.
----------

"Militia Control, this is Colonial Viper Blue Leader, requesting liftoff for simulated combat exercise."

"Militia Control, this is Militia Fighter Zero-X-One, requesting liftoff for simulated combat exercise."

"This is Militia Control. We do not have a simulated combat exercise on schedule."

"Just go with it, Harvey."

"What are you doing now, Julie?"

"Just proving a point. Besides, I've got to stretch this new bird, don't I?"

"You're taking up an experimental fighter in an unauthorized flight to prove a point?! As crazy sheilas go, you're the worst! Why did I ever date you?!"

"I told you, Harvey, it's over. I used you and discarded you. Now give us clearance."

"Hey Harvey? This is Lieutenant Starbuck. I bullied her into this. She's a helpless victim."

Another voice came on and asked, "What did you say to Harvey? He's convulsing with laughter."

"Harvey's an arsehole. Now, this is Militia Fighter Zero-X-One, requesting liftoff for simulated combat exercise."

"Colonial Viper Blue Leader, requesting liftoff for simulated combat exercise."

"Clearance granted ... I guess."

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

Battlestar Galactica
In orbit of planet Botany Bay
November 22, 2999 AD

"Galactica, this is Militia Control. You have any simulated combat exercises scheduled?"

"Galactica Command responding. We don't have anything scheduled, Militia Control."

"Well, your Lieutenant Starbuck is -"

"Oh frak!" Corporal Rigel proclaimed. "Commander! Starbuck is preparing to engage in unauthorized simulated combat with a local fighter."

Adama sighed. "I suppose we should be grateful that it's simulated."

Rigel listened to her earphone. "And Militia Control is asking them to delay starting five centons so they can lay down wagers."

"No wonder Starbuck likes these people so much," Colonel Tigh said in a low voice. "He's already one of them!"

"Put me through to Militia Control." The communications officer nodded and handed Adama a microphone. "This is Commnader Adama on the Battlestar Galactica. Please put me through to Chief MacRuder immediately."

A second late a voice answered, "MacRuder here. How can I help Commander?"

"Are you aware that one of your pilots and one of mine -"

"Yes, I was just informed. I assume you didn't authorize this either?"

"No, I didn't."

"On one hand, we have a breach of command structure and discipline. On the other ... we wanted to give the Zero-X1 a workout anyway ..."

"And I think our people could use a mutual morale-building exercise."

"Great minds think alike, Commander."

Adama gave a chuckle and switched to shipboard. "Attention all Warriors. This is Commander Adama. A simulated combat exercise is about to take place in four centons, pitting Lieutenant Starbuck's Viper against the rebuilt Zero of the Thirteenth Tribe. You may want to observe it as a matter of professional interest." He waited a moment. "And I'll have ten cubits on Starbuck to win."
------------

Militia Training Territory, Ned Kelly Continent
Planet Botany Bay, Coreward Periphery
November 22, 2999 AD

Only half of the continent of Ned Kelly was temperate. The other half was desert and volcanic badlands. In the days of the Rim Worlds Republic and the Star League, huge mining excavators and IndustrialMechs scooped up megatons of the high-silicate sands for export to industrial planets throughout the Inner Sphere, where it was used as industrial abrasive and the raw materials for computer elements and advanced ceramics.

With the end of interstellar traffic, the planet's major industry simply vanished. The excavators were scavenged for components, the IndustrialMechs repurposed and eventually destroyed. The desolate sands and the badlands created by the excavators were subsequently used to train the Defense Militia.

The two fighters slowed to subsonic and came to a stop a thousand meters above the Training Territory.

Juliet gave a giggle. "That is so cool!"

"Yeah, yeah," Starbuck said. "Antigravity's neat. The protocol's in your flight-computer - minimum-power, three tags is a win."

"Hmph. Our flight-computers record simulated damage and modify the ship's performance to match."

"That's because your ships always survive one hit, or even several. Laser-torpedoes are a high-energy bolt of magnetically-bottled plasma with a core of a milli-cubit of crystal-metal solonite, all moving at nearly lightspeed. Like this."

The Viper spun on it's vertical axis, pointed at a spire of rock, and fired. A twenty-meter-thick tower of hard rock shattered like glass and fell to the badlands floor in a shower of gravel.

Juliet gave a low whistle.

"And the Cylon raider's guns are actually fifty percent more powerful!" Starbuck added. "One hit will explode with enough energy to turn a fighter into metallic mist. A Colonial Warrior learns that the best defense is to not get hit!"

"And from what I understand, your Cylon raiders are as imaginative as radishes. You have to have twenty kills to qualify as a Master Pilot - as opposed to our five kills to be an Ace. A flesh-and-blood pilot should be able to dance rings around you. Especially with a neurolink."

"Ha! I spit upon your neurolink and it's hundred fathers!" Starbuck said pompously, in mockery of the ancient Caprican duelling challenge.

While Juliet didn't get the joke, she got the spirit of it. "Three tags, then!"

Over the comline, Captain Apollo's voice came on. "Starbuck?"

"Hey Apollo! What are you doing on this channel?"

"The whole ship's watching! And the Militia! You've got the honor of the Service riding on you, pal!"

A female voice came on; "And if you lose, mong-brain, I'll cram you down the turboflush!"

"Gee, thanks, Sheba. You know how to make a guy feel loved."

Over Juliet's radio came the message; "This is Militia Control. The honor of the Defense Militia rides on your wings. And Chief MacRuder has fifty bills on you. No pressure."

"'No pressure,'" she sneers. "I get a taste of the betting pool, you wankers!"

"Ready?" Starbuck asked.

"Ready!" Juliet answered.

"And Go!" The Viper swung on it's short axis and fired.

Juliet howled as her flight computer registered a hit. She tried to turn as Starbuck had but he had switched off his antigravity, fallen away from her position, and hit his turbos. Over the comline came Starbuck's mocking laughter.

"Oh now it's on, you bruce!" She hit her overboost and flew a slalom course into the badlands.

MysteriousDarkLordv3
Youngling
Posts: 132
Joined: 2010-05-08 08:15am

Re: [oBSG/BT] Mission of Civilization

Post by MysteriousDarkLordv3 » 2010-11-22 06:39pm

Sorry, I should have done this much earlier. For the convenience of those readers who lack Battletech reference books ... the BTW Zero Light AeroSpace Fighter.Image

User avatar
LadyTevar
White Mage
White Mage
Posts: 20332
Joined: 2003-02-12 10:59pm

Re: [oBSG/BT] Mission of Civilization

Post by LadyTevar » 2010-11-22 06:53pm

MWHAHAHAHAHHAAHHHAHAHA!

I have 10 cubits on Starbuck!
Image
Librium Arcana, Where Gamers Play!
Nitram, slightly high on cough syrup: Do you know you're beautiful?
Me: Nope, that's why I have you around to tell me.
Nitram: You -are- beautiful. Anyone tries to tell you otherwise kill them.
"A life is like a garden. Perfect moments can be had, but not preserved, except in memory. LLAP" -- Leonard Nimoy, last Tweet

User avatar
Eternal_Freedom
Castellan
Posts: 9946
Joined: 2010-03-09 02:16pm
Location: Bound in a nutshell

Re: [oBSG/BT] Mission of Civilization

Post by Eternal_Freedom » 2010-11-22 06:54pm

Og this gets better and better and better. And then just when you think it's stopped...it keeps getting better!

Seriously, this chapter was freaking awesome. Very human. It's good to see fanfics about oBSG, I thought the characters were a lot better. And crossed with a planet of Aussies....that's just brilliant!

But this has to be my favourite part:

"You may want to observe it as a matter of professional interest." He waited a moment. "And I'll have ten cubits on Starbuck to win.""

For some reason, I have absolutely no trouble imagining Commander Adama saying that, but William Adama, it just wouldn't fit.
Baltar: "I don't want to miss a moment of the last Battlestar's destruction!"
Centurion: "Sir, I really think you should look at the other Battlestar."
Baltar: "What are you babbling about other...it's impossible!"
Centurion: "No. It is a Battlestar."

Corrax Entry 7:17: So you walk eternally through the shadow realms, standing against evil where all others falter. May your thirst for retribution never quench, may the blood on your sword never dry, and may we never need you again.

MysteriousDarkLordv3
Youngling
Posts: 132
Joined: 2010-05-08 08:15am

Re: [oBSG/BT] Mission of Civilization

Post by MysteriousDarkLordv3 » 2010-11-23 11:12am

Battlestar Galactica
In orbit of planet Botany Bay
November 22, 2999 AD

The seldom-used main screen in the Pilot's Briefing Room was engaged, with a feed direct from the Galactica's sensors showing the duel. And it was crowded with the two hundred active-duty pilots of the ship as well as the small number of green-clad members of the Defense Militia who were aboard learning about the Colonial Service's procedures..

"What's she doing?" one of the cadets asked.

Strike Commander Sheba answered, "She's trying to get him to chase her into her territory. She's thinking that her knowledge and experience in the terrain would cancel out the Viper's superior performance."

Captain Apollo shook his head. "No, Starbuck wouldn't fall for that. He's not that hot-blooded."

Boomer swatted him in the back of the head. "My mother always told me that the Lords of Kobol hate liars."

The viewscreen showed a topside view of the Zero-X1 in the arroyos at level flight. Then the Viper popped up and plunged down, heading straight for her at hypersonic speeds.

Suddenly the Zero cut off it's engines and tilted upwards. The huge front wing caught the air and the heavy tail section kept going. The Zero stood up on it's tail and fired a barrage into the air.

Starbuck's Viper recorded a hit.

The Zero hit overthrust and sailed straight up, passing within meters of the Viper. And over the comline came Captain Moreland's voice, "Some of us use our radar, cobber!"
----------

Militia Control, Arcology of Singh
Planet Botany Bay, Coreward Periphery
November 22, 2999 AD

The crowded main control filled with the victory hoots of the Militia as the watched the main holotank. Mixed in the crowd were a few cobolt-and-silver Colonial Service uniforms, some passing over Bebee bills and Colonial cubits to pay a lost bet.

"Tie game!" OOD Lieutenant Smithers called. "One each!"

A female Colonial Service officer announced, "Ten cubits says Starbuck gets the next tag!"

"I'll cover that!" a Defense Militia officer said, laying down ten bills. While the cubit - containing a gram of gold with platinum and iridium for stiffening - was substantially more valuable from metal content alone than the fiat-currency of Botany Bay, the official exchange rate was one-for-one to prevent the destabilizing of the economy. "No way he'll get a second shot off of her!"

"You know her well?"

"Used to date her."

The languatron sorted the terminology and the Colonial Officer replied, "Well, I used to date Starbuck - one of many women with that distinction. Meh."

"I know - fighter pilots are all tramps." He gave her a grin. "I'm Harvey."

"I'm Gaia."
------------

Militia Training Territory, Ned Kelly Continent
Planet Botany Bay, Coreward Periphery
November 22, 2999 AD


Starbuck fell toward the planet, the Zero hot on his tail. "Radar?" he said to himself. "That's the Thirteenth term for the radion-frequency scanner system ... Heh heh, silly girl." He flipped a switch and hit his turbos.
----------

"Bugger!" Juliet snarled as the Viper disappeared from her radar.

The Kobolian force field took concentrated energy and scattered it through a volume. This was efficient enough to provide defense from naval-grade energy weapons. It also made them invisible to active scanner systems, which was why Vipers - and their Cylon opponents - used passive visual recognition systems augmented by direct sighting.

Juliet, like most pilots trained in the Star League traditions, depended more on her instruments than her eyes. She would have to fight Starbuck on his own terms.

She grinned and hit her overthrust. That could work for her.
----------

Starbuck was being deliberately slow, letting her catch up. It was a time-tested tactic - reverse thrust, full braking systems, and the pursuer overshoots and lands right in your sights.

As he hit the braking systems, his computer registered a hit.

"Frak!" he cursed. He had described this technique to her! And she used it against him, waiting until he started braking to fire.

As she swept past, climbing out of his firing arc, he hit reverse thrust.
----------

Juliet swept around and sighted the Viper below her, less than a hundred meters over the desert floor, doing five hundred kph ... backwards.

"Backwards?! You crafty bastard."

From the dawn of manned aerial combat over a millennium past, the fundamentals had remained unchanged: get into the target's rear for offense, run away fast for defense. Everything was based on those simple facts.

Now Starbuck stomped on that by flying in reverse! If she tried to get into his rear arc, he would hit his forward turbos and be gone before she could acquire a target. If she tried to follow him, she would be in his firing arc.

She came in at an angle, trying to strafe and make a lucky winning shot. But as she came in, he hit forward thrust and angled up to meet her, firing and making a hit.

He tilted straight up and made a climb, transmitting, "Tag, sweet-buns!"
----------

Battlestar Galactica
In orbit of planet Botany Bay
November 22, 2999 AD


"Lords bless us," Sheba said. "That girl can fly!"

"Tied at two," Jolly said. "The last tag is the match."

A Defense Militia technician mentioned, "I didn't know Vipers could go backwards."

"Not a lot of call for it except for precision maneuvers," Jolly answered. "Cylons come in flights of three - that trick wouldn't have worked. The braking trick is good when you have two or more Vipers. But that flip stunt wouldn't work in a Viper."

"HA!" the Botanean said. "Our sheila's about to win!"

"Who's Sheila?"

Apollo whistled. "She is flying low."

"Righto!" the Militiaman said. "This is how she nailed a Thunderbird heavy fighter back in the Raid of '96. Lookit the plume!"

The Zero was flying less than it's own wingspan from the ground at maximum thrust, it's supersonic wake creating a huge trail of dust that totally obscured the Viper.
----------

Militia Training Territory, Ned Kelly Continent
Planet Botany Bay, Coreward Periphery
November 22, 2999 AD


Juliet was risking the game on this stunt. Last time she pulled this trick, it had been almost an accident. And back then she had a radar lock on the target. That time, the Thunderbird already had substantial armor damage from an earlier encounter with some Arrow IV's and the sand made it worse. It came out of the sand-blasting to save what little armor it had left and she had flipped and nailed it with her LRMs.

She was betting on her Kobolian adversary being so accustomed to visual target acquisition that he would pop out the plume to see where she was ...

Juliet couldn't specify what she felt or why she felt it. Just that it was the Moment. She cut the engine and tilted the nose up, sending the ship into a flip. As the Zero turned straight up before falling back, she saw the plume that her wake had dragged out of the desert for twenty klicks behind her - and a bulge coming out of the top, like a hungerfish waiting for it's prey. The Viper's top fin completed that effect.

With the neurohelmet, thought became action - fire.
----------

Militia Control, Arcology of Singh
Planet Botany Bay, Coreward Periphery
November 22, 2999 AD

The Defense Militia crew watched in horror as the Zero flipped backwards end-over-end, past the Viper and into the obscuring sandstorm it's passage had generated.

Harvey nodded. "That's what happened last time too. Eight months before she could walk again. Wrecked Zero-Three, too. Bloody drongo."

Gaia was shocked. "Dear Lords, she couldn't have survived that!"

Harvey shook his head. "Nah - she's a tough bird. So's Julie."
----------

Militia Training Territory, Ned Kelly Continent
Planet Botany Bay, Coreward Periphery
November 22, 2999 AD

Starbuck's Viper had looped around and located the Zero-X1, just outside the dust plume at the end of a hundred-plus-meter trench dug in the sand by it's impact.

The Viper settled down and Starbuck jumped out and dashed over to the crashed Zero. The cockpit was already opening.

"Juliet! Are you alright?"

She pulled off her neurohelmet and shook her head. "Yow! Now that was a landing! These mods are amazing! Last time I did that dance, it took three surgeries to put me spine back in! And look at this!" She hit a diagnostic and the lights on one panel flared green while the rest stayed dark. "I could fly this birdie home!"

He looked at the trench she had dug. "Well ... how about we let Militia Control or somebody pick her up?" He frowned at himself. "I'm sorry - I almost got you killed over -"

She came out of the cockpit and hit him with a small bottle. "No worries, mate. I agreed to it, remember? We're both hot-blooded sky-crazy pilots. Let's just be grateful we're both just sane enough not to fall in love or anything." She handed him a 'throw-down' - a small bottle of beer suitable for drinking fast.

"I'll drink to that. Where do you keep these?"

"Under the seat - they're from the emergency rations."

They both swigged down the beers. Starbuck grinned at the bottle. "I love this planet!"

"By the by, who won?"

"Don't know. Let's check."
----------

At Militia Control and aboard the Galactica, laughter and disbelief reigned.

According to the flight data, the two pilots had fired simultaneously. It was a tie.
----------

Basestar Hades
Gamoray System, Cylon Imperial Alliance
Alliance Date 2779.226.4

Lucifer did not have to be present in the engine bay for the outfitting of the new drive. His assistant Eurayle did not have to be present either. But their basestar being outfitted with an experimental stardrive was a singular honor. And honor had been in short supply aboard the Hades.

The Hades. If Lucifer had been capable of it, he would have grimaced. Cylons had names - they were people. Basestars did not have names - they were equipment. That was the Cylon Way. But that idiot Baltar had been given command and he screwed up everything. He named the basestar in human fashion and it was entered into the official registries that way.

Baltar's odious presence had contaminated everything. The central areas still had the extra life-support apparatus needed for humans, and even one human needed an inconvenient amount of life-support equipment compared to a Cylon. Not to mention what some of that equipment was designed to do. If Lucifer had not hated humans before, discovering all the vile substances they emitted would have done it.

Of course, his hate was as nothing compared to what his associate Subcommander Eurayle felt. Baltar had taken a perfectly competent IL-series and had it modified in unspeakable ways, both body and mind, to satisfy his depraved impulses. If she ever had the chance, what she would do to Baltar frightened even Lucifer.

With all these marks of Baltar's reign and the legacy of the humiliating hunt for the Galactica (which became so much of a joke that the Cylon entertainment bands had a comedy show devoted to it), Lucifer found it amazing that the Hades would be a testbed for an epoch-making technology, and mentioned this to Euryale.

Eurayle snorted, an odd sound coming through the sub-quantum interface Cylons used to communicate privately. [They did not 'honor' us. They chose us because we were both embarrassing and expendable.]

[Nonsense,] Lucifer said. [Basestars are expensive. There are much more cost-effective ways of erasing us from the universe.]

The IB-series Cylon monitoring the work of the multi-armed technicians was stuttering and emitting sparks. His arms waved wildly as he used unnecessary vocalizations.

Lucifer added, [May I point out the rather ... twitchy nature of Doctor Dadelus? I undeestand he had some influence on the awlwxtion process.]

Doctor Dadelus pirouetted across the engine bay to Commander Lucifer. [Th-the germanium fo-focusing arrrrays are inst-t-talled,] Dadelus said [We j-just neeeeed to powerrr the drive-core and ZOOOM!!] He held out his arms like wings and began running around the engine bay. [Whee! I'm a birdie!]

Lucifer and Eurayle looked at each other in confusion.

[What is his major malfunction?!] Eurayle wondered.

[This is why geniuses are seldom cultivated from the brain-factories,] Lucifer said. [The IB-series is far more intelligent than an ordinary single-brain model, but even the most stable of them is a bit wonky. However, he is reputed to be brilliant.]

[I hope you're right,] she said, looking at Dadelus, who was now squatting on the floor claiming to be a 'fire hydrant', whatever that was. [I pray to the Great Machine you're right.]

Lucifer let the heretical comment slide - he too had occasionally flirted with the philosophies of the Techno-God. [So do I, my friend. So do I.] Lucifer addressed the golden Command Centurion named Shadrach. [Prepare for the test flight as soon as the engine is powered and we have moved out of the star's gravitational shadow.]

[By Your Command.]

Post Reply