The Thirteenth Tribe (nBSG/SG Crossover)
Moderator: LadyTevar
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Eternal_Freedom
- Castellan
- Posts: 10369
- Joined: 2010-03-09 02:16pm
- Location: CIC, Battlestar Temeraire
Re: The Thirteenth Tribe (nBSG/SG Crossover)
I'll be writing again tomorrow on the long train journey home, I've been on holiday these two weeks, bonding with a large Labrador and a small nephew.
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.
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.
-
Eternal_Freedom
- Castellan
- Posts: 10369
- Joined: 2010-03-09 02:16pm
- Location: CIC, Battlestar Temeraire
Re: The Thirteenth Tribe (nBSG/SG Crossover)
As promised. Train journeys are good for writing it seems.
Recovery
Terran Orbital Space
Even as the momentous meetings took place inside Olympus Base, indeed even while Thor and SG-1 took their shuttle trip across to the huge structure, the remains of the Combined Fleet began to gather itself from the immediate aftermath of the battle. There was a huge amount to do: the wounded needed to be treated, damage on ships shored up as best as possible to prevent further incidents, ejected pilots needed to be recovered.
And the dead needed to be counted.
It was a grim task. Even with the near-miraculous medical technology the Terrans possessed, some damage was simply too much to repair. Added to this were the thousands who had no body left to bury; their ships, stations or planes blasted to fragments and the human pilots shattered with them, along with those human’s potentials, dreams, hopes and fears.
The tally was going to be high, a cursory glance at the known losses could tell you that. The more one looked the worse the count became.
The Fleet had opened the battle with no less than six Battlestars, fourteen destroyers, eight defence platforms, slightly over three thousand Vipers or Cobras and thirty bombers. Now, barely an hour later, they had three operational Battlestars, only four destroyers, a hair over thirteen hundred fighters and bombers, and five platforms.
There would be no survivors from the ten lost destroyers. They had died too quickly, their destruction was too complete. Some larger fragments of three ships survived, but every compartment within had either been vented to space or flooded with fire. Each ship had carried a crew of five hundred.
The same was true for the defence platforms. A hundred men and women had manned each one, and three were now nothing but irradiated vapour. Many of the Viper and Cobra pilots had ejected safely, so the total casualties amongst the small craft was only seven hundred and forty three, including the five-man bomber crew lost in the opening strike on the Cylon fleet.
The Battlestars showed a remarkable distribution in casualties: Pegasus, Warspite and Excalibur had taken no losses at all, except among their air wings. The ship’s shields had held, though it had been a perilously close thing at some points. Despite the spectacular destruction of the Barham, all but five hundred of her crew had safely evacuated before her last stand.
The Lionheart was less lucky; the failure of her forward shields and the destruction of her main battery had claimed nearly two hundred lives. But it was the Galactica that had lost the most, in more ways than one.
Nearly thirteen hundred men and women had spilled their lifeblood on her decks when the Cylon missiles had finally penetrated her defences. Combined with the catastrophic damage she had sustained, it was amazing that anyone aboard still lived. Already a renowned ship, she was rapidly assuming near-mythic status as the ship that just would not stop.
The initial estimates would be a gut-punch for the senior commanders when they received them. Over eight thousand dead, and the tally was expected to rise as some of the seriously injured lost their final struggle.
Despite this number, and the absent people it represented, the gaps soon to be seen on mess decks and in formations, the Terran and Colonial spacers took solace from one triumphant fact: despite the Cylon bombardment and their overwhelming numbers, despite the powerful impacts of the Champion and the flight pod torn away from Galactica, not one single civilian had been so much as injured by the battle. Terra and her billions, as well as the Colonial refugees, remained safe.
The remaining ships in orbit began the slow and careful task of corralling the debris left behind into two parking orbits well away from Olympus Base. The remains of the human vessels were in one area and would be treated with great respect. The wreckage left behind by the dozens of Cylon Basestars would not be so fortunate. Once it had been collected, it would be towed piece by piece to Tartarus Base, a mineral refinery in the asteroid belt, where it would be fed into the huge plasma furnaces and rendered down into constituent elements for refining and use elsewhere in the system.
The hours passed. The leaders conferred, the pilots began to land and rest, the spacers were allowed off duty to decompress after the battle. Those were not simply too exhausted to do anything but sleep sat in their mess decks or their berths and began the task of coming to terms with what had happened. Many, indeed most of them had seen very little of the battle, being posted somewhere inside the armoured hulls and seeing nothing but sensor feeds. The pilots and the gunners were the only ones to directly witness the fire and fury of the general fleet action and even then their view had been limited.
They all knew though. Many had friends on the destroyed ships, and these crewmembers sat in their berths or at their mess tables and mourned for their absent friends. Some cried, some prayed, some simply sat in silence, occasionally reaching out for a hand to comfort them. There was no rank in these moments, no rivalries between pilots and deckhands or Marines and engineers. All that was forgotten for those few hours as thousands mourned the loss of thousands more.
Down on the surface, the civilian populations rejoiced as the huge city-shields were deactivated and they emerged from their reinforced shelters. Their elation continued unabated even as the news reports began the grim roll of the lost, except in New Delphi, the Colonial settlement. News of the Galactica brought virtually the entire population to tears or silence or prayer. This collective grief was so all-encompassing that almost no-one even noticed the Terran medical shuttle that had raced to Gaius Baltar’s small apartment, alerted by the building’s bio-scanners that someone was mortally wounded.
Back in orbit, the meeting between the planet’s leaders and the new arrivals had ended. William Adama, his mind still reeling from the information he had learned, walked through the base almost on autopilot. Only when he reached an observation deck did he stop. The handful of off-duty personnel who had been using the telescopes to watch the recovery operations recognised him and wisely made themselves scarce, leaving the Admiral in peace. A look at the senor display told him where to train the powerful scope.
There was his Battlestar, a broken wreck, beginning the long slow process of being towed to one of the vacant berths at the base. The sight of the damage, the horrendous wounds on his once-beautiful ship and the deaths they represented finally shattered his self-control.
His legs, one so recently repaired, gave way. The old man, the indomitable Admiral who had stood on his CIC and faced down an apocalypse twice over and barely blinked, collapsed to the deck and finally allowed himself to grieve for his ship and his crew and the thousands of others.
It was in this position that his son Lee, Kara Thrace and Saul Tigh found him half an hour later, no longer the iron-willed warrior, Bill looked like a broken man. Looks were deceptive however. Saul signalled to the others that he would handle this, and the younger officers kept their distance, despite both of them wanting to comfort the old man.
Saul sat down on the deck next to Bill. He placed a reassuring hand on his friend’s shoulder which finally tore Bill’s gaze away from the distant stars. Saul spoke quietly; he had never been a great orator, he spoke with little verbosity, no flowery rhetoric, no sermons. Just simple comfort:
“She did us proud Bill. She carried most of us through, and saved Lemuria and millions of lives. That’s a damn good score for any ship.”
Bill nodded, the tears long gone but the grief still in his eyes. Saul had thought this would happen, and had planned ahead.
“Starbuck, go ahead and pass those glasses around.” The pilot did so, suspecting the reasoning behind Saul’s order whilst Lee and Saul helped Bill to his feet. This simple act, standing upright again, seemed to restore the Admiral’s iron resolve. What followed worked even better.
A cup was handed out to each officer, and Saul filled each with a generous measure of fine whiskey he had liberated from the station’s wardroom along with the glasses. He set the bottle down and then raised his glass high.
“To the Battlestar Galactica, the finest ship in the Fleet, may her name be forever honoured.”
The toast was a tradition older than the Colonial Fleet, dating back hundreds of years to the wet-navy ships of the Picon Navy. It was echoed by the others, and a sip was taken.
Lee spoke next, continuing the send-off for a ship lost in a victorious battle: “To those she saved, may they live long and know her sacrifice.” Another echo, another sip.
Kara continued: “To those who gave their last full measure of devotion aboard her, may they rest in peace.”
Bill gave the final toast, his voice even gruffer than usual: “To those who survived, may they never forget the victory she brought them.” The four finished their glasses and then Lee put his down and embraced his father.
Kara and Saul looked on. The animosity they shared had dissipated somewhat, enough to poke fun at each other without any real sincerity – while off duty of course. The pilot looked at the XO with a smirk on her face. Saul knew what she was thinking and spoke quickly.
“Don’t even think about it Starbuck.”
Her smirk only grew wider, her irreverent sense of humour being her way of coping with the aftermath of battle.
“Wouldn’t dream of it sir, I got a better idea.” Instead of embracing him, she instead reached down for the bottle of whiskey and offered him a refill.
================
Next chapter will see something of a time jump and an interlude/montage of the various plot threads, similar tot he Combined Fleet training chapter before the Battle of Terra.
Recovery
Terran Orbital Space
Even as the momentous meetings took place inside Olympus Base, indeed even while Thor and SG-1 took their shuttle trip across to the huge structure, the remains of the Combined Fleet began to gather itself from the immediate aftermath of the battle. There was a huge amount to do: the wounded needed to be treated, damage on ships shored up as best as possible to prevent further incidents, ejected pilots needed to be recovered.
And the dead needed to be counted.
It was a grim task. Even with the near-miraculous medical technology the Terrans possessed, some damage was simply too much to repair. Added to this were the thousands who had no body left to bury; their ships, stations or planes blasted to fragments and the human pilots shattered with them, along with those human’s potentials, dreams, hopes and fears.
The tally was going to be high, a cursory glance at the known losses could tell you that. The more one looked the worse the count became.
The Fleet had opened the battle with no less than six Battlestars, fourteen destroyers, eight defence platforms, slightly over three thousand Vipers or Cobras and thirty bombers. Now, barely an hour later, they had three operational Battlestars, only four destroyers, a hair over thirteen hundred fighters and bombers, and five platforms.
There would be no survivors from the ten lost destroyers. They had died too quickly, their destruction was too complete. Some larger fragments of three ships survived, but every compartment within had either been vented to space or flooded with fire. Each ship had carried a crew of five hundred.
The same was true for the defence platforms. A hundred men and women had manned each one, and three were now nothing but irradiated vapour. Many of the Viper and Cobra pilots had ejected safely, so the total casualties amongst the small craft was only seven hundred and forty three, including the five-man bomber crew lost in the opening strike on the Cylon fleet.
The Battlestars showed a remarkable distribution in casualties: Pegasus, Warspite and Excalibur had taken no losses at all, except among their air wings. The ship’s shields had held, though it had been a perilously close thing at some points. Despite the spectacular destruction of the Barham, all but five hundred of her crew had safely evacuated before her last stand.
The Lionheart was less lucky; the failure of her forward shields and the destruction of her main battery had claimed nearly two hundred lives. But it was the Galactica that had lost the most, in more ways than one.
Nearly thirteen hundred men and women had spilled their lifeblood on her decks when the Cylon missiles had finally penetrated her defences. Combined with the catastrophic damage she had sustained, it was amazing that anyone aboard still lived. Already a renowned ship, she was rapidly assuming near-mythic status as the ship that just would not stop.
The initial estimates would be a gut-punch for the senior commanders when they received them. Over eight thousand dead, and the tally was expected to rise as some of the seriously injured lost their final struggle.
Despite this number, and the absent people it represented, the gaps soon to be seen on mess decks and in formations, the Terran and Colonial spacers took solace from one triumphant fact: despite the Cylon bombardment and their overwhelming numbers, despite the powerful impacts of the Champion and the flight pod torn away from Galactica, not one single civilian had been so much as injured by the battle. Terra and her billions, as well as the Colonial refugees, remained safe.
The remaining ships in orbit began the slow and careful task of corralling the debris left behind into two parking orbits well away from Olympus Base. The remains of the human vessels were in one area and would be treated with great respect. The wreckage left behind by the dozens of Cylon Basestars would not be so fortunate. Once it had been collected, it would be towed piece by piece to Tartarus Base, a mineral refinery in the asteroid belt, where it would be fed into the huge plasma furnaces and rendered down into constituent elements for refining and use elsewhere in the system.
The hours passed. The leaders conferred, the pilots began to land and rest, the spacers were allowed off duty to decompress after the battle. Those were not simply too exhausted to do anything but sleep sat in their mess decks or their berths and began the task of coming to terms with what had happened. Many, indeed most of them had seen very little of the battle, being posted somewhere inside the armoured hulls and seeing nothing but sensor feeds. The pilots and the gunners were the only ones to directly witness the fire and fury of the general fleet action and even then their view had been limited.
They all knew though. Many had friends on the destroyed ships, and these crewmembers sat in their berths or at their mess tables and mourned for their absent friends. Some cried, some prayed, some simply sat in silence, occasionally reaching out for a hand to comfort them. There was no rank in these moments, no rivalries between pilots and deckhands or Marines and engineers. All that was forgotten for those few hours as thousands mourned the loss of thousands more.
Down on the surface, the civilian populations rejoiced as the huge city-shields were deactivated and they emerged from their reinforced shelters. Their elation continued unabated even as the news reports began the grim roll of the lost, except in New Delphi, the Colonial settlement. News of the Galactica brought virtually the entire population to tears or silence or prayer. This collective grief was so all-encompassing that almost no-one even noticed the Terran medical shuttle that had raced to Gaius Baltar’s small apartment, alerted by the building’s bio-scanners that someone was mortally wounded.
Back in orbit, the meeting between the planet’s leaders and the new arrivals had ended. William Adama, his mind still reeling from the information he had learned, walked through the base almost on autopilot. Only when he reached an observation deck did he stop. The handful of off-duty personnel who had been using the telescopes to watch the recovery operations recognised him and wisely made themselves scarce, leaving the Admiral in peace. A look at the senor display told him where to train the powerful scope.
There was his Battlestar, a broken wreck, beginning the long slow process of being towed to one of the vacant berths at the base. The sight of the damage, the horrendous wounds on his once-beautiful ship and the deaths they represented finally shattered his self-control.
His legs, one so recently repaired, gave way. The old man, the indomitable Admiral who had stood on his CIC and faced down an apocalypse twice over and barely blinked, collapsed to the deck and finally allowed himself to grieve for his ship and his crew and the thousands of others.
It was in this position that his son Lee, Kara Thrace and Saul Tigh found him half an hour later, no longer the iron-willed warrior, Bill looked like a broken man. Looks were deceptive however. Saul signalled to the others that he would handle this, and the younger officers kept their distance, despite both of them wanting to comfort the old man.
Saul sat down on the deck next to Bill. He placed a reassuring hand on his friend’s shoulder which finally tore Bill’s gaze away from the distant stars. Saul spoke quietly; he had never been a great orator, he spoke with little verbosity, no flowery rhetoric, no sermons. Just simple comfort:
“She did us proud Bill. She carried most of us through, and saved Lemuria and millions of lives. That’s a damn good score for any ship.”
Bill nodded, the tears long gone but the grief still in his eyes. Saul had thought this would happen, and had planned ahead.
“Starbuck, go ahead and pass those glasses around.” The pilot did so, suspecting the reasoning behind Saul’s order whilst Lee and Saul helped Bill to his feet. This simple act, standing upright again, seemed to restore the Admiral’s iron resolve. What followed worked even better.
A cup was handed out to each officer, and Saul filled each with a generous measure of fine whiskey he had liberated from the station’s wardroom along with the glasses. He set the bottle down and then raised his glass high.
“To the Battlestar Galactica, the finest ship in the Fleet, may her name be forever honoured.”
The toast was a tradition older than the Colonial Fleet, dating back hundreds of years to the wet-navy ships of the Picon Navy. It was echoed by the others, and a sip was taken.
Lee spoke next, continuing the send-off for a ship lost in a victorious battle: “To those she saved, may they live long and know her sacrifice.” Another echo, another sip.
Kara continued: “To those who gave their last full measure of devotion aboard her, may they rest in peace.”
Bill gave the final toast, his voice even gruffer than usual: “To those who survived, may they never forget the victory she brought them.” The four finished their glasses and then Lee put his down and embraced his father.
Kara and Saul looked on. The animosity they shared had dissipated somewhat, enough to poke fun at each other without any real sincerity – while off duty of course. The pilot looked at the XO with a smirk on her face. Saul knew what she was thinking and spoke quickly.
“Don’t even think about it Starbuck.”
Her smirk only grew wider, her irreverent sense of humour being her way of coping with the aftermath of battle.
“Wouldn’t dream of it sir, I got a better idea.” Instead of embracing him, she instead reached down for the bottle of whiskey and offered him a refill.
================
Next chapter will see something of a time jump and an interlude/montage of the various plot threads, similar tot he Combined Fleet training chapter before the Battle of Terra.
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.
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.
Re: The Thirteenth Tribe (nBSG/SG Crossover)
I don't know where you got the idea for the toast to lost ships, but it brought a tear to my eye.
And I can't wait to find out what Kara's impish idea was
And I can't wait to find out what Kara's impish idea was
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
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Eternal_Freedom
- Castellan
- Posts: 10369
- Joined: 2010-03-09 02:16pm
- Location: CIC, Battlestar Temeraire
Re: The Thirteenth Tribe (nBSG/SG Crossover)
Kara's idea was to hug Saul, at least in my head.
As for the toast, that wrote itself. The first part seemed like a good send-off, and then I thought about the Royal Navy's series of toasts for each day (to wives and sweethearts, to bloody wars and sickly seasons, etc) and figured why not.
EDIT: As I've mentioned before, I seem to have a knack for writing eulogies or send-offs for warships
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.
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.
Re: The Thirteenth Tribe (nBSG/SG Crossover)
Yes you ruddy well do. CRS Warrior, TCS Barham (*sniff*), Galactica, to name three.
Given how heavily you're drawing from the RN anyway, the toasts fitted perfectly.
Given how heavily you're drawing from the RN anyway, the toasts fitted perfectly.
A mad person thinks there's a gateway to hell in his basement. A mad genius builds one and turns it on. - CaptainChewbacca
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Darth Lucifer
- Jedi Council Member
- Posts: 1685
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- Location: In pursuit of the Colonial Fleet
Re: The Thirteenth Tribe (nBSG/SG Crossover)
This is a far better farewell scene to Galactica than we got on television. Fucking awesome.
I love you.News of the Galactica brought virtually the entire population to tears or silence or prayer. This collective grief was so all-encompassing that almost no-one even noticed the Terran medical shuttle that had raced to Gaius Baltar’s small apartment, alerted by the building’s bio-scanners that someone was mortally wounded.
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Eternal_Freedom
- Castellan
- Posts: 10369
- Joined: 2010-03-09 02:16pm
- Location: CIC, Battlestar Temeraire
Re: The Thirteenth Tribe (nBSG/SG Crossover)
I guess you missed the "Interlude: Rebirth" poast where we see Baltar wake up thenDarth Lucifer wrote: ↑2017-08-15 05:24am This is a far better farewell scene to Galactica than we got on television. Fucking awesome.
I love you.News of the Galactica brought virtually the entire population to tears or silence or prayer. This collective grief was so all-encompassing that almost no-one even noticed the Terran medical shuttle that had raced to Gaius Baltar’s small apartment, alerted by the building’s bio-scanners that someone was mortally wounded.
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.
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.
-
Darth Lucifer
- Jedi Council Member
- Posts: 1685
- Joined: 2004-10-14 04:18am
- Location: In pursuit of the Colonial Fleet
Re: The Thirteenth Tribe (nBSG/SG Crossover)
Oh snap...I guess I did somehow...very nice. And very, so very delicious the kind of punishment you've cooked up...nasty. Just Nasty.
Re: The Thirteenth Tribe (nBSG/SG Crossover)
Come to think of it, how would that ability to send people down resurrection boulevard interact with "term of natural life" sentences? (yes, I'm asking a question that may well indirectly result in some worldbuilding. Water is wet. Film at 11. Here's your lampshade.)
Would life sentences be effectively obsolete, in favour of a long fixed term (plus state-supplied trips down aforementioned boulevard when needed) where "X years in clink means you will serve X years in clink, whether you have suicide as a hobby or not"?
Would life sentences be effectively obsolete, in favour of a long fixed term (plus state-supplied trips down aforementioned boulevard when needed) where "X years in clink means you will serve X years in clink, whether you have suicide as a hobby or not"?
A mad person thinks there's a gateway to hell in his basement. A mad genius builds one and turns it on. - CaptainChewbacca
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Eternal_Freedom
- Castellan
- Posts: 10369
- Joined: 2010-03-09 02:16pm
- Location: CIC, Battlestar Temeraire
Re: The Thirteenth Tribe (nBSG/SG Crossover)
WEll, as I said, Terran medical tech is highly advanced compared to Colonial or SG1!Earths, and is able to revive people who are clinically dead for up to, oh, 20 minutes or so, provided they can repair whatever organ damage occurred. In Baltar's case, that probably meant rapidly cloning a new heart to replace the one that Head!Six stabbed in half.
That being said, this is not effective immortality. Sufficiently serious injuries are, as in real-life, fatal. This is why Galactica's casualty count will not lower very much - massive brain trauma, or getting blown into chunky salsa, or being incinerated by a fuel leak can't be fixed - there is just too much damage to repair before the brain deteriorates beyond being saveable. So single-injury fatalities, like Baltar's, are fixable if you get there soon enough, but multiple-wound stuff that causes major damage is game over.
Also, this repair and rapid-organ-replacement does extend lifespan, but eventually, the central nervous system deteriorates too much to be salvageable.
How this applies to prison sentences is basically "we throw you in a cell and keep you there until your sentence is up or you die of old age - suicide, organ failure due to diesease, similar stuff gets you fixed and put back in your box. If necessary (say, because every other inmate wants to kill you repeatedly because you're accessory to genocide) you'll be in solitary. Whether that's worse than getting repeatedly shanked/strangled/suffocated etc over a 150-year sentence is an excersise for the reader.
That being said, this is not effective immortality. Sufficiently serious injuries are, as in real-life, fatal. This is why Galactica's casualty count will not lower very much - massive brain trauma, or getting blown into chunky salsa, or being incinerated by a fuel leak can't be fixed - there is just too much damage to repair before the brain deteriorates beyond being saveable. So single-injury fatalities, like Baltar's, are fixable if you get there soon enough, but multiple-wound stuff that causes major damage is game over.
Also, this repair and rapid-organ-replacement does extend lifespan, but eventually, the central nervous system deteriorates too much to be salvageable.
How this applies to prison sentences is basically "we throw you in a cell and keep you there until your sentence is up or you die of old age - suicide, organ failure due to diesease, similar stuff gets you fixed and put back in your box. If necessary (say, because every other inmate wants to kill you repeatedly because you're accessory to genocide) you'll be in solitary. Whether that's worse than getting repeatedly shanked/strangled/suffocated etc over a 150-year sentence is an excersise for the reader.
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.
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.
Re: The Thirteenth Tribe (nBSG/SG Crossover)
Ok, thanks for that.
How good is Terran cloning tech? Your example covers hearts - does that apply to limbs or other bits that can be amputated? Ie, clone around for a bit and graft result on?
Where does whole-body cloning fit in? I'm guessing there's no accelerated-growth tanks, so if (frinstance) Adama Senior gets cloned, even if his telomeres get reset (sort of implied by wtfpwning cancer), Mini Me has to gestate, get born, and grow up at his own rate.
How good is Terran cloning tech? Your example covers hearts - does that apply to limbs or other bits that can be amputated? Ie, clone around for a bit and graft result on?
Where does whole-body cloning fit in? I'm guessing there's no accelerated-growth tanks, so if (frinstance) Adama Senior gets cloned, even if his telomeres get reset (sort of implied by wtfpwning cancer), Mini Me has to gestate, get born, and grow up at his own rate.
A mad person thinks there's a gateway to hell in his basement. A mad genius builds one and turns it on. - CaptainChewbacca
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Eternal_Freedom
- Castellan
- Posts: 10369
- Joined: 2010-03-09 02:16pm
- Location: CIC, Battlestar Temeraire
Re: The Thirteenth Tribe (nBSG/SG Crossover)
Arms and limbs are a lot harder to do than individual organs - too many components, different tissue types etc.
As for cloning a whole being, sure they could do it and have the clone age normally - but then you've just got a kid with the exact same DNA. They can't copy minds or personalities or anything.
As for cloning a whole being, sure they could do it and have the clone age normally - but then you've just got a kid with the exact same DNA. They can't copy minds or personalities or anything.
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.
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.
Re: The Thirteenth Tribe (nBSG/SG Crossover)
That's a relief - don't have to worry about Shtarker, mass production model.
A mad person thinks there's a gateway to hell in his basement. A mad genius builds one and turns it on. - CaptainChewbacca
-
Eternal_Freedom
- Castellan
- Posts: 10369
- Joined: 2010-03-09 02:16pm
- Location: CIC, Battlestar Temeraire
Re: The Thirteenth Tribe (nBSG/SG Crossover)
Boom, baby:
Rebuilding
The weeks that followed the Battle of Terra were filled with activity, all of it filled with purpose and a hope that they had turned a corner from the apocalyptic assaults they had so recently faced. They had stared down the abyss and now they had no great enemy hunting them, they had new friends and a whole galaxy they could begin to explore. The future now seemed bright and hopeful for the first time in living memory.
The on-going negotiations with the humans of Earth and the Asgard had yet to reach a conclusive result, but a wealth of valuable information had been exchanged. Star maps, gate addresses historical and cultural exchanges. Everyone involved was confident that a formal agreement was close. There were very few contentious issues, to everyone involved it seemed like a deal that benefitted everyone.
By now, the grim task of counting the dead was complete, and the final toll was indeed a stark reminder.
Eight thousand four hundred and twenty eight men and women had fallen. Already plans were being drawn up for a memorial service in a week’s time, and a permanent monument in Lemuria was being designed.
The evacuated survivors of the Barham, led by the Operations Officer Lt. Commander Wallace, had been debriefed and the precious experience had been documented; the Terran Navy now knew the weakness inherent in their superconductive armour, that a sufficiently powerful detonation could scramble the FTL and sublight drive controls. Fixes were discussed, but it was Samantha Carter and Thor that presented the solution that was eventually chosen.
They suggested installing a series of large capacitors in the Battlestars; energy absorbed by the armour could be diverted to them safely and then repurposed to power the ship’s guns or quick-charge the FTL drives for a rapid escape. The engineers could see the advantage in such a system but lacked the practical knowledge to implement it quickly.
Thor, on the behalf of the Asgard, offered to supply them with the necessary equipment and use his ship’s beaming system to install it as a gesture of good faith to his potential new allies. This offer was quickly accepted by the Terran President, whilst Laura Roslin asked if such a system could also be fitted to Pegasus and Warspite. That too was agreed, but it would take longer and would require an Asgard support ship be summoned from Orilla.
After eight days, the final negotiations were completed. A treaty signing was arranged; Thor even went so far as to collect a representative of the Nox to attend this reforming of the Great Alliance. In a manner typical of that quiet, enigmatic race, Lya agreed to observe the proceedings but would not, at this point, join in the Alliance with the Terrans and the Tau’ri. Their own longstanding relationship with the Asgard would of course continue.
The ceremony was held in the Great Hall of the Citadel in Lemuria. Presidents Matthews and Roslin jointly represented the United Colonies, Thor was present for the Asgard High Council whilst the Tau’ri had summoned General Hammond to represent them. The senior General was, privately, thoroughly baffled by the Colonial’s and Terran’s history, but conducted himself with the professionalism that had seen him through seven years commanding the SGC and all the fantastic, implausible and downright impossible events he had seen.
The document, declaring the Second Great Alliance, was duly signed, sealed and approved by the representatives in a solemn occasion. As a gesture to his new allies, President Matthews invited the other representatives to attend an awards ceremony shortly afterwards, honouring the survivors of the recent Battle.
This ceremony, whilst also solemn, was grand and filled with martial pomp. The Terran and Colonial officers and crew were assembled in their entirety in a vast stadium in Lemuria, wearing their dress uniforms and in many cases looking decidedly uncomfortable at the adulation being thrown upon them.
The list of awards was extensive indeed – no less than three hundred different awards to individuals were made, in addition to the Battle of Terra medal being issued to everyone who had fought. Many of the medals were by necessity posthumous awards, presented to their grieving but proud families.
As was traditional, the awards were presented in order of seniority of the recipients, starting with the most junior. Here, a Colonial specialist crewman who had heroically led his damage control team aboard Galactica, suffering extensive burns in the process, was awarded the Colonial Cross. There, a Terran pilot who had flown an unarmed shuttle out into the furball to rescue ejected pilots received a Distinguished Service Medal. Everywhere there were awards that told their own tales of glory, honour and courage, sometimes foolhardy, sometimes in vain, but always recognised.
Towards the end of the proceedings, President Matthews presented the two penultimate medals for the Terran Navy, to Commander Shtarker and Captain North of the Barham. His speech was short and to the point, but nonetheless told the tale:
“…that these two officers did show unshakeable determination and courage in the face of overwhelming opposition and slim chances of survival. Their leadership and quick thinking allowed four-fifths of their crew to escape an otherwise doomed ship. Their stoicism in the face of impossible odds allowed them to isolate and destroy a significant fraction of the enemy fleet, buying time to reinforce our orbital position and quite possibly saving the rest of the Fleet and Terra as well from certain destruction. For this and more, Commander George Shtarker and Captain Franklin North are hereby awarded the Olympic Cross, our highest award for valour.”
There was a moment of respectful silence as the President presented the medals to the two grieving but proud widows, before the assembled officers, men and civilians, a hundred thousand strong, burst into spontaneous applause. The sound was deafening and did not dissipate for nearly five minutes.
Then came the final awards. Commander Jellicoe received the Colonial Cross for his own actions as well as his swift response to being forced to assume command of the Fleet. Admiral Lethbridge-Stewart was presented with the Commonwealth Star for his leadership, and then finally Admiral Adama stood to receive his own Colonial Cross for his stalwart defence over Lemuria. President Roslin was not quite done with him however.
“It has been brought to my attention that the President of the Colonies is not able to summarily promote a Battlestar Commander to flag rank, even in time of war. I am only able to provisionally appoint someone to the position of Admiral of the Fleet for a two-year term. As such, William Adama has been holding that position for the last six months while still technically remaining a Commander.”
There was a collective intake of breath at this point, to many Colonials it seemed almost heretical that the legendary Old Man was not in fact an Admiral after all he had done. Roslin however had an answer for them.
“Therefore, at my request, the Quorum of Twelve have unanimously passed a special resolution, promoting William Adama to the rank of full Admiral, with all the rights, privileges and duties associated therewith.” Once again thunderous applause rolled around the stadium.
After that died down, President Matthews stepped back onto the stage, signalling for both Laura and Bill to remain.
“There are two final awards to be made here today. These are not military medals however. In the two thousand years of Commonwealth history, there is an award that has only been presented eleven times. Each time it has been presented to someone whose deeds have become legend, someone who saved millions of lives, or even the entire world, from destruction. I am told that this award traces its origins back even before the Exodus, and that our Colonial cousins consider it a myth presented by the Lords Themselves.” Here he paused for effect, as the historically-minded members of the audience began to grasp what he was referring to.
“I speak of the Star of Kobol.” Some gasps were heard; the Colonials did indeed consider the Star to be a myth, spoken of in the Scrolls as an award from the Gods. “Yesterday, in closed session, the Commonwealth Senate voted to award the Star of Kobol to William Adama and Laura Roslin.”
The crowd was silent, in sheer awe that they were present to witness a mythic event. Matthews continued.
“No one here needs to be convinced of the worthiness of these two. They, and they alone, gathered the scattered survivors of the apocalypse and led them, by sheer force of will, through the darkness to a new future. They guided and protected those precious few, keeping their spirits intact and their resolve strong. They have met every challenge posed by the end of the worlds. They led the Exodus from the Colonies and then, when they finally found a new home, they stood to defend it from a second apocalypse in the making.”
He looked around the gathered crowd of thousands. Then, lapsing into a formal dialect two millennia old, reserved for such occasions and originally written by Zeus Himself, he spoke once more.
“Is there anyone here present who would challenge this award? Is there anyone here present who would challenge the worthiness of William Adama and Laura Roslin, who would challenge their names being written in every place of honour, their stories being inscribed in history for all time?”
Silence answered him. “Then so be it. William Adama, Laura Roslin, you have done what no others could, achieved what others thought to be impossible, saved what could not be saved. Your names and your stories will be honoured for eternity.” He nodded at Admiral Lethbridge-Stewart, who stepped forward, flanked by Captains Mace and Davies, each of whom carried a case holding the medals.
The Terran Admiral, his own new award hanging around his neck, turned his gaze across the assembled crews.
“Officers and spacers of the Combined Fleet! Attention to Orders!”
The crews stood and snapped to attention. Alistair nodded, then turned to Captain Mace and removed the large, solid platinum eight-pointed starburst from the purple velvet case and reverentially placed it around William’s shoulders. He then turned to Captain Davies and repeated this with the medal for Laura.
This done, he withdrew a scroll and from it read the names of the Eleven, now the Thirteen, demigods for a modern pantheon.
“To those here present, honour the names of those who earned the Star of Kobol: James McKenna, Artemus Bowman, Jessica Sherlock, Cassandra Cameron, David Redgrave, Edward Barham, Richard Railton, Jonathan Edmunds, Eric Jorgunsson, Stephen Falken, Sarah Jacobs, William Adama, Laura Roslin.” He rolled the scroll up again.
“Officers and spacers of the Combined Fleet, Salute!”
Thousands of men and women saluted in near=perfect unison. Admiral Adama, stoic as ever, returned the salute with dignity. Laura Roslin, on the other hand, blushed, looked down at her shoes and then looked back at the crowd and nodded respectfully.
Once more Alistair spoke up.
“Fleet, stand at ease!” That was the cue for the whole crowd to burst into cheering and applause. The Admiral and the President turned and shook hands, then embraced. A whisper passed between them, a shared hope that now that the war was over, maybe they could find time for them, whatever that meant for the future.
The observers, General Hammond, SG-1, Lya and Thor had watched this all, though in deference both to their military training and their newfound respect for the people on stage, the three USAF officers present had found themselves standing to attention and saluting along with the Terran and Colonial crews. It had been a long and solemn occasion, lasting hours, but they were all glad they had attended. The battle these men and women had fought was greater in scope than any of them could conceive of, the catastrophic losses beyond their nightmares, and beyond that, the Exodus itself, and the Fall, was something none of them even wanted to imagine.
But the United Colonies, the Tau’ri, and the Asgard now stood as allies. They would face the future and all its trials together.
==============
And I'm back ladies and gentleman. Having a new job and sorting out a new flat has helped immensely as I now longer feel miserable all the sodding time. Which is a nice feeling.
Yes, I gloss over a lot of stuff here. But honestly, long tediuos discussions and debates and negotiations are as boring to write as they are to read. I've always taken a "broad strokes" approach to stuff like this - set up the situation, then explain what the results are and let the imaginations of my more obsessive readers fill in the blanks.
The next chapter is half-written and features another jump forwards in time, two months this time. But don't worry, we're soon approaching the event that will lead to the next action sequences.
Rebuilding
The weeks that followed the Battle of Terra were filled with activity, all of it filled with purpose and a hope that they had turned a corner from the apocalyptic assaults they had so recently faced. They had stared down the abyss and now they had no great enemy hunting them, they had new friends and a whole galaxy they could begin to explore. The future now seemed bright and hopeful for the first time in living memory.
The on-going negotiations with the humans of Earth and the Asgard had yet to reach a conclusive result, but a wealth of valuable information had been exchanged. Star maps, gate addresses historical and cultural exchanges. Everyone involved was confident that a formal agreement was close. There were very few contentious issues, to everyone involved it seemed like a deal that benefitted everyone.
By now, the grim task of counting the dead was complete, and the final toll was indeed a stark reminder.
Eight thousand four hundred and twenty eight men and women had fallen. Already plans were being drawn up for a memorial service in a week’s time, and a permanent monument in Lemuria was being designed.
The evacuated survivors of the Barham, led by the Operations Officer Lt. Commander Wallace, had been debriefed and the precious experience had been documented; the Terran Navy now knew the weakness inherent in their superconductive armour, that a sufficiently powerful detonation could scramble the FTL and sublight drive controls. Fixes were discussed, but it was Samantha Carter and Thor that presented the solution that was eventually chosen.
They suggested installing a series of large capacitors in the Battlestars; energy absorbed by the armour could be diverted to them safely and then repurposed to power the ship’s guns or quick-charge the FTL drives for a rapid escape. The engineers could see the advantage in such a system but lacked the practical knowledge to implement it quickly.
Thor, on the behalf of the Asgard, offered to supply them with the necessary equipment and use his ship’s beaming system to install it as a gesture of good faith to his potential new allies. This offer was quickly accepted by the Terran President, whilst Laura Roslin asked if such a system could also be fitted to Pegasus and Warspite. That too was agreed, but it would take longer and would require an Asgard support ship be summoned from Orilla.
After eight days, the final negotiations were completed. A treaty signing was arranged; Thor even went so far as to collect a representative of the Nox to attend this reforming of the Great Alliance. In a manner typical of that quiet, enigmatic race, Lya agreed to observe the proceedings but would not, at this point, join in the Alliance with the Terrans and the Tau’ri. Their own longstanding relationship with the Asgard would of course continue.
The ceremony was held in the Great Hall of the Citadel in Lemuria. Presidents Matthews and Roslin jointly represented the United Colonies, Thor was present for the Asgard High Council whilst the Tau’ri had summoned General Hammond to represent them. The senior General was, privately, thoroughly baffled by the Colonial’s and Terran’s history, but conducted himself with the professionalism that had seen him through seven years commanding the SGC and all the fantastic, implausible and downright impossible events he had seen.
The document, declaring the Second Great Alliance, was duly signed, sealed and approved by the representatives in a solemn occasion. As a gesture to his new allies, President Matthews invited the other representatives to attend an awards ceremony shortly afterwards, honouring the survivors of the recent Battle.
This ceremony, whilst also solemn, was grand and filled with martial pomp. The Terran and Colonial officers and crew were assembled in their entirety in a vast stadium in Lemuria, wearing their dress uniforms and in many cases looking decidedly uncomfortable at the adulation being thrown upon them.
The list of awards was extensive indeed – no less than three hundred different awards to individuals were made, in addition to the Battle of Terra medal being issued to everyone who had fought. Many of the medals were by necessity posthumous awards, presented to their grieving but proud families.
As was traditional, the awards were presented in order of seniority of the recipients, starting with the most junior. Here, a Colonial specialist crewman who had heroically led his damage control team aboard Galactica, suffering extensive burns in the process, was awarded the Colonial Cross. There, a Terran pilot who had flown an unarmed shuttle out into the furball to rescue ejected pilots received a Distinguished Service Medal. Everywhere there were awards that told their own tales of glory, honour and courage, sometimes foolhardy, sometimes in vain, but always recognised.
Towards the end of the proceedings, President Matthews presented the two penultimate medals for the Terran Navy, to Commander Shtarker and Captain North of the Barham. His speech was short and to the point, but nonetheless told the tale:
“…that these two officers did show unshakeable determination and courage in the face of overwhelming opposition and slim chances of survival. Their leadership and quick thinking allowed four-fifths of their crew to escape an otherwise doomed ship. Their stoicism in the face of impossible odds allowed them to isolate and destroy a significant fraction of the enemy fleet, buying time to reinforce our orbital position and quite possibly saving the rest of the Fleet and Terra as well from certain destruction. For this and more, Commander George Shtarker and Captain Franklin North are hereby awarded the Olympic Cross, our highest award for valour.”
There was a moment of respectful silence as the President presented the medals to the two grieving but proud widows, before the assembled officers, men and civilians, a hundred thousand strong, burst into spontaneous applause. The sound was deafening and did not dissipate for nearly five minutes.
Then came the final awards. Commander Jellicoe received the Colonial Cross for his own actions as well as his swift response to being forced to assume command of the Fleet. Admiral Lethbridge-Stewart was presented with the Commonwealth Star for his leadership, and then finally Admiral Adama stood to receive his own Colonial Cross for his stalwart defence over Lemuria. President Roslin was not quite done with him however.
“It has been brought to my attention that the President of the Colonies is not able to summarily promote a Battlestar Commander to flag rank, even in time of war. I am only able to provisionally appoint someone to the position of Admiral of the Fleet for a two-year term. As such, William Adama has been holding that position for the last six months while still technically remaining a Commander.”
There was a collective intake of breath at this point, to many Colonials it seemed almost heretical that the legendary Old Man was not in fact an Admiral after all he had done. Roslin however had an answer for them.
“Therefore, at my request, the Quorum of Twelve have unanimously passed a special resolution, promoting William Adama to the rank of full Admiral, with all the rights, privileges and duties associated therewith.” Once again thunderous applause rolled around the stadium.
After that died down, President Matthews stepped back onto the stage, signalling for both Laura and Bill to remain.
“There are two final awards to be made here today. These are not military medals however. In the two thousand years of Commonwealth history, there is an award that has only been presented eleven times. Each time it has been presented to someone whose deeds have become legend, someone who saved millions of lives, or even the entire world, from destruction. I am told that this award traces its origins back even before the Exodus, and that our Colonial cousins consider it a myth presented by the Lords Themselves.” Here he paused for effect, as the historically-minded members of the audience began to grasp what he was referring to.
“I speak of the Star of Kobol.” Some gasps were heard; the Colonials did indeed consider the Star to be a myth, spoken of in the Scrolls as an award from the Gods. “Yesterday, in closed session, the Commonwealth Senate voted to award the Star of Kobol to William Adama and Laura Roslin.”
The crowd was silent, in sheer awe that they were present to witness a mythic event. Matthews continued.
“No one here needs to be convinced of the worthiness of these two. They, and they alone, gathered the scattered survivors of the apocalypse and led them, by sheer force of will, through the darkness to a new future. They guided and protected those precious few, keeping their spirits intact and their resolve strong. They have met every challenge posed by the end of the worlds. They led the Exodus from the Colonies and then, when they finally found a new home, they stood to defend it from a second apocalypse in the making.”
He looked around the gathered crowd of thousands. Then, lapsing into a formal dialect two millennia old, reserved for such occasions and originally written by Zeus Himself, he spoke once more.
“Is there anyone here present who would challenge this award? Is there anyone here present who would challenge the worthiness of William Adama and Laura Roslin, who would challenge their names being written in every place of honour, their stories being inscribed in history for all time?”
Silence answered him. “Then so be it. William Adama, Laura Roslin, you have done what no others could, achieved what others thought to be impossible, saved what could not be saved. Your names and your stories will be honoured for eternity.” He nodded at Admiral Lethbridge-Stewart, who stepped forward, flanked by Captains Mace and Davies, each of whom carried a case holding the medals.
The Terran Admiral, his own new award hanging around his neck, turned his gaze across the assembled crews.
“Officers and spacers of the Combined Fleet! Attention to Orders!”
The crews stood and snapped to attention. Alistair nodded, then turned to Captain Mace and removed the large, solid platinum eight-pointed starburst from the purple velvet case and reverentially placed it around William’s shoulders. He then turned to Captain Davies and repeated this with the medal for Laura.
This done, he withdrew a scroll and from it read the names of the Eleven, now the Thirteen, demigods for a modern pantheon.
“To those here present, honour the names of those who earned the Star of Kobol: James McKenna, Artemus Bowman, Jessica Sherlock, Cassandra Cameron, David Redgrave, Edward Barham, Richard Railton, Jonathan Edmunds, Eric Jorgunsson, Stephen Falken, Sarah Jacobs, William Adama, Laura Roslin.” He rolled the scroll up again.
“Officers and spacers of the Combined Fleet, Salute!”
Thousands of men and women saluted in near=perfect unison. Admiral Adama, stoic as ever, returned the salute with dignity. Laura Roslin, on the other hand, blushed, looked down at her shoes and then looked back at the crowd and nodded respectfully.
Once more Alistair spoke up.
“Fleet, stand at ease!” That was the cue for the whole crowd to burst into cheering and applause. The Admiral and the President turned and shook hands, then embraced. A whisper passed between them, a shared hope that now that the war was over, maybe they could find time for them, whatever that meant for the future.
The observers, General Hammond, SG-1, Lya and Thor had watched this all, though in deference both to their military training and their newfound respect for the people on stage, the three USAF officers present had found themselves standing to attention and saluting along with the Terran and Colonial crews. It had been a long and solemn occasion, lasting hours, but they were all glad they had attended. The battle these men and women had fought was greater in scope than any of them could conceive of, the catastrophic losses beyond their nightmares, and beyond that, the Exodus itself, and the Fall, was something none of them even wanted to imagine.
But the United Colonies, the Tau’ri, and the Asgard now stood as allies. They would face the future and all its trials together.
==============
And I'm back ladies and gentleman. Having a new job and sorting out a new flat has helped immensely as I now longer feel miserable all the sodding time. Which is a nice feeling.
Yes, I gloss over a lot of stuff here. But honestly, long tediuos discussions and debates and negotiations are as boring to write as they are to read. I've always taken a "broad strokes" approach to stuff like this - set up the situation, then explain what the results are and let the imaginations of my more obsessive readers fill in the blanks.
The next chapter is half-written and features another jump forwards in time, two months this time. But don't worry, we're soon approaching the event that will lead to the next action sequences.
Last edited by LadyTevar on 2017-09-05 01:07am, edited 1 time in total.
Reason: Corrected the names of those who earned the Star of Kobol for the author -- Lady T
Reason: Corrected the names of those who earned the Star of Kobol for the author -- Lady T
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.
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.
Re: The Thirteenth Tribe (nBSG/SG Crossover)
SERIOUSLY?James McKenna, William Hartnell, Jessica Sherlock, Nicholas Courtney, Neil Armstrong, James Sawyer, Stephanie Cameron, Samantha Johnson, Patrick Troughton, Jon Pertwee, Edward Barham, William Adama, Laura Roslin.
I swear SG-1 should all be wondering "WTF, Neil Armstrong?" and then wondering why there's THREE Dr Who Actors listed, as well as the Brigadier. Not to mention the OTHER actors listed.
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
Re: The Thirteenth Tribe (nBSG/SG Crossover)
Another lampshade to hang, maybe? Especially if the Terran Herr Courtney is a Generation Xerox of The Moustache.
I maybe haven't yet had enough coffee, but how long until "Wallop" Wallace gets another battlestar shot out from under him?
I still reckon Frankie would have merited the SoK, but we've had that discussion a while ago - no need to revisit it here.
Looks like Shtarker's co-husband got left out. He was in a queen triad - thus Frankie's crack that I think I PMed to you, "Shtarker, if I manage to get our fool selves killed, your kids will be better off than mine".
Nice to see you're going with the solution I suggested, from Traveller, for raising the Lionheart design's traffic flow ceiling - if you're under Enough Dakka to be seriously charging those capacitors from the armour/shield generator bleed, you need to either strike back or bugger off. If the Cool Ship can't discharge those supercaps in time, it has a nasty under-armour explosion to deal with.
Will the Warspites get the thermal-supercon armour, on top of (to pardon pun) the shield-bleed supercapacitors? Or is that more fundamental than the spinal mega-lasers and can't really be refitted - instead, it's easier to lift up nameplate and slide a Lionheart hull underneath?
I maybe haven't yet had enough coffee, but how long until "Wallop" Wallace gets another battlestar shot out from under him?
I still reckon Frankie would have merited the SoK, but we've had that discussion a while ago - no need to revisit it here.
Looks like Shtarker's co-husband got left out. He was in a queen triad - thus Frankie's crack that I think I PMed to you, "Shtarker, if I manage to get our fool selves killed, your kids will be better off than mine".
Nice to see you're going with the solution I suggested, from Traveller, for raising the Lionheart design's traffic flow ceiling - if you're under Enough Dakka to be seriously charging those capacitors from the armour/shield generator bleed, you need to either strike back or bugger off. If the Cool Ship can't discharge those supercaps in time, it has a nasty under-armour explosion to deal with.
Will the Warspites get the thermal-supercon armour, on top of (to pardon pun) the shield-bleed supercapacitors? Or is that more fundamental than the spinal mega-lasers and can't really be refitted - instead, it's easier to lift up nameplate and slide a Lionheart hull underneath?
A mad person thinks there's a gateway to hell in his basement. A mad genius builds one and turns it on. - CaptainChewbacca
-
Eternal_Freedom
- Castellan
- Posts: 10369
- Joined: 2010-03-09 02:16pm
- Location: CIC, Battlestar Temeraire
Re: The Thirteenth Tribe (nBSG/SG Crossover)
Eh, I needed eleven names, and decided to add a few more shoutouts. I can always change those names in future, it's hardly a major part of the story.LadyTevar wrote: ↑2017-08-28 08:41pmSERIOUSLY?James McKenna, William Hartnell, Jessica Sherlock, Nicholas Courtney, Neil Armstrong, James Sawyer, Stephanie Cameron, Samantha Johnson, Patrick Troughton, Jon Pertwee, Edward Barham, William Adama, Laura Roslin.
I swear SG-1 should all be wondering "WTF, Neil Armstrong?" and then wondering why there's THREE Dr Who Actors listed, as well as the Brigadier. Not to mention the OTHER actors listed.
Also, apart from Hartnell, Troughton, Pertwee and Courtney I don't recall any of the others being actors, merely a couple shoutouts to BattleTech, Hornblower, the real-life Barham and a good friend of mine.
Fnord: As for Wallace getting a second Battlestar shot out from under him, probably not for a while.
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.
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.
Re: The Thirteenth Tribe (nBSG/SG Crossover)
Only just noticed it now, but shouldn't The Moustache have ordered the assembled starmen and booties to stand easy, instead of at ease?
A mad person thinks there's a gateway to hell in his basement. A mad genius builds one and turns it on. - CaptainChewbacca
-
Eternal_Freedom
- Castellan
- Posts: 10369
- Joined: 2010-03-09 02:16pm
- Location: CIC, Battlestar Temeraire
Re: The Thirteenth Tribe (nBSG/SG Crossover)
Fnord: eh, maybe, but as I've said, Terran Navy regs/protocols are not exactly identical to RL militaries, for obvious reasons.
LadyTever: If you wouldn't mind helping out, I can PM you a different list of names for The Eleven and you can edit them in place of the shoutout heavy list thats currently there.
Anyways, on with the post. This is a long one, and I shamelessly admit that's because half of it is spent describing Nemesis. But she's going to be important to the future story and I like the mental image I have for the ship and her armaments and capabilities. So there.
Progress
Two Months Later
It would be a stretch of the imagination to say that things around Terra had returned to normal over the last two months. With the regular presence of at least two Asgard vessels and the occasional visit from one of the Tau’ri’s battlecruisers, the dwindling collection of Cylon debris and her own refitted and expanded fleet, Terran orbital space was busier than ever.
“New normal” was the term used by the people on the surface. Despite the strangeness of meeting other non-Kobolian humans and actual aliens, things had proceeded remarkably smoothly. The more religious elements of the populations, both Colonial and Terran, had been soothed somewhat by the fact that the Sacred Scrolls and the Book of the Word both spoke of the Asgard, albeit the Scrolls had not mentioned that they were a different species from the Lords. As for the Tau’ri, it was also relatively easy to accommodate them within their belief system – the Tau’ri too were connected to the Lords of Kobol, even if it were in a somewhat more distant fashion than the Kobolians.
The Nox and the Furlings also did not cause problems. The Nox, because they too were spoken of in the Scrolls or the Book and appeared as harmless and polite as it was possible for a being to be, were largely ignored. This was made even easier because only two of them had ever visited Terra, and then only briefly.
The Furlings, too, were spoken of in the scriptures. But they were even easier to reconcile – not even the Nox or the Asgard had seen neither hide nor hair of them for at least twelve thousand years. Daniel Jackson, who had taken up a role as a semi-official Tau’ri Ambassador to the Alliance (a role that neither Generals Hammond nor O’Neill were comfortable performing themselves) had finally gotten around to asking Thor about this final enigmatic member of their Alliance.
Thor had answered him with a great sadness in his voice: ”Millennia ago, the Furlings informed the other races that they had to withdraw from this galaxy, even from this galactic cluster. They said they had a great task to perform, a great enemy to defeat…and that not even we of the Alliance could help them in this battle. They left a beacon in a stable orbit around the supermassive black hole at the centre of this galaxy that we could use to contact them, but we were warned not to do so unless certain very specific events had occurred. Those events have not come to pass and the beacon remains dormant.”
Daniel, being the ever-curious man that he was, pressed the diminutive grey being for more.
”They did say that they would return eventually, but not for a long time. As for the conditions to use their beacon, they are complex and highly detailed, but in short, not enough time has passed for the stars to be right.” Daniel had left it at that, leaving it as something for him to puzzle over in his spare time. Instead, he had moved on to other matters.
Something else had occurred that helped people move on from events of the battle. In the central plaza of the capital city, stood the completed Memorial to the Battle of Terra. A central monolith of smooth onyx reached a hundred feet into the sky, and upon its sides were etched the names of the fallen. Around this central pillar were twelve smaller pillars, each bearing the name of one of the twelve destroyed vessels and an impressive rendering of the ship’s crests and mottos.
Whilst the civilian populations on the surface were adapting to this new and strange universe they found themselves in, the Combined Fleet was restoring itself to its former glory. Three weeks before, Lionheart had slipped from her moorings and re-joined the Fleet, her damage repaired and her systems upgraded with the Alliance-designed armour capacitors, coupled with new neutrino-ion generators to supplement her powerful naquada reactors. She was now faster than before, her shields stronger, her guns more powerful. Almost before she had assumed her place in the formation, the Excalibur began to move into the vacated dock for her own refit to what some called “Flight II” standard.
The other five docks at Olympus Base were also busy. The three newest Battlestars had been completed and were now finishing their own Asgard upgrades whilst Pegasus completed her own refit, following Warspite. Their hulls were completely replaced with the superconductive armour of the Terran ships and they received the same upgraded generators. The two Colonial Battlestars were still not as powerful as a Terran built ship, but they proved just how skilled their designers and builders had been – the hulls had taken the upgrades far more easily than anyone expected. It also had the effect of replacing their usual gunmetal-grey paint schemes with the gleaming white colour worn by the Terran ships.
It was the sixth capital berth that held the most interest for people on the surface and in the observation decks however. Within this berth was the hulk of the Galactica; it was clear to everyone that the ship simply could not be repaired to fighting standard, or even to a standard sufficient to survive an FTL jump. Instead, the two Admirals had agreed her fate.
Olympus Base would restore the venerable ship’s hull to her pre-battle standard, the damaged compartments would be faithfully rebuilt, the destroyed flight pod and engines would be lovingly replaced. For whilst Galactica would never jump again, her frame was still strong enough to handle a stable orbit and hold an atmosphere in place. Ironically, her fate was the same one she had escaped so determinedly in the Fall – she would become a museum and a memorial to the Cylon Wars.
Her name and her legacy would live on however. The two Admirals had also agreed on this point. Of the three new Terran Battlestars, only the third (provisionally named Temeraire) still needed a Captain – Kate Stewart and Stephen Garrett having been appointed to command Victorious and Republic respectively.
The third Battlestar would instead become the new Galactica and placed under Colonial control – and under command of the newly-promoted Commander Saul Tigh. All of the old Colonial crew were accompanying him, along with the Terrans who had fought aboard her over Terra. There would be a formal ceremony in a week’s time, when the three new ships were ready for service: the old Galactica would be formally decommissioned by the President and Admiral Adama. Her standard and her commissioning plaque would then be transferred, with an honour guard, across to the next berth where the new Galactica waited to receive her legacy.
But the Battlestars were not the only focus at the vast shipyard – each of the six capital berths had six further destroyer-scale berths attached to it – and every one of those berths were close to launching a completed vessel. Twenty of them were new destroyers, whilst the remaining sixteen was exploration vessels to begin scouting the galaxy for new resources and new worlds.
The three new Lionhearts, the twenty new destroyers of the Challenger class and the sixteen explorers of the Endeavour class were all nearly ready to be launched – in several cases they were already prepared. But the launchings had been delayed until Styx Base finished work on the Warstar Nemesis, it having been decided to hold the launching and commissioning ceremonies together in a single grand event.
The Warstar herself was in fact completed at this point and was a week away from Terran orbit, being towed gradually by every tug that was not needed for ferrying battle debris to Tartarus Base. The massive ship, as per both Terran and Colonial tradition, would not move under her own power, or even be referred to by her name, until she had been formally commissioned into the Fleet. This long slow cruise from Styx Base served as a pre-shakedown cruise; whilst the main drives would not be tested on this trip, other systems were given a thorough examination to confirm that she was ready to be handed over to the Fleet and her first crew.
The ship itself was vast. No other descriptor seemed appropriate for her. She was the pinnacle of Terran warship design and even the Asgard were impressed at the power and the scale of her construction. Her white hull gleamed in the starlight as the three and a half kilometre long vessel continued onwards to Terra.
Her hull largely conformed to the standard Battlestar arrangement but there were noticeable differences. Her central hull had a hexagonal profile, wider than it was tall. From the port and starboard sides of this hull stretched the five pylons connected to each flight pod. In another departure from Battlestar designs, the Warstar boasted four such pods, arranged in two pairs, one above and one below the centreline, giving the ship a much bulkier appearance.
Each pod would be home to no less than eight squadrons of twenty Cobras each, giving the ship a total fighter strength of 640. The ship would also carry four squadrons of Scimitar bombers and another four of Scythe gunships, giving the ship no less than eight hundred planes in total. The pods were fully two and a half times the length of the pods on the Lionheart class and, taking a hint from the Mercury class Colonial ships, sported a second, full-length landing deck on the underside of each pod – this was only for use in emergencies though, as the “upside down” landing decks had no elevators to bring small craft to the hanger decks.
From the rear of the main hull emerged the massive drive section, which housed eight huge sublight drives and four FTL drives – the minimum needed to move a vessel this big between star systems. Some of the ships main generators were housed here whilst more were found back within the cavernous main hull: an effective combination of naquada reactors and neutrino-ion generators provided all the power needed for the enormous vessel. With so much internal volume available, the ship’s builders had included multiple redundant generators as well as storage for spare small craft – in fact, a spare for every fighter, bomber or gunship carried was stored in the ship’s holds.
Along the top and the bottom of the main hull was a large raised ridge, running along both the ship’s back and her keel, which linked the drive section to the bow section. The bow was where the main divergence from the Battlestar pattern was evident. The bow section flared outwards and forwards from the main hull before tapering gradually forwards similar to the Mercury class. Like the Colonial ship, the Warstar had a “trench” running around the bow section where a number of weapon batteries were located. At the very front of the ship, there was a large vertical trench , giving the impression of a split hull and four fangs or talons reaching forwards, one pair above and one below the centreline trench. Each of those fangs held a trio of Battlestar-grade mega-lasers, giving the ship three times the forward firepower of a Lionheart.
But between those fangs was the ship’s real main weapon. The designers had gone even bigger with their applications of energy weapons to produce what they collectively dubbed a superlaser – the weapon was expected to be capable of providing a one-hit-kill on shielded capital ships at long range. Such power had limitations however, the recharge time was a full ten minutes, or just three if power was drawn from the other weapons, engines or shields. The weapon had no elevation or traverse, requiring very precise positioning of the ship and the energy discharge was powerful enough to blind the ship’s own sensors for a few seconds after firing.
The rest of the ship’s offensive punch was found in the hundreds of turbolaser batteries placed on the dorsal and ventral hulls, on the flight pods, the drive section, anywhere they could be mounted, giving the ship very good arcs of fire. Meanwhile, thousands of point-defence laser cannons would supplement the incredibly strong shields. Along the dorsal ridge was a line of four turrets, each mounting a single mega-laser. Combined with the four identical ventral turrets, they provided a very powerful anti-ship punch that did not require reorienting the entire ship.
The Warstar was more than a pure combat vessel however. Within the heavily armoured bow was an enlarged Fleet Operations Centre, allowing the flag officers aboard to coordinate an entire war if needs be. Secure accommodation for VIP’s was included, as was a large and extremely well-equipped hospital – no mere infirmary or sickbay for this vessel. The intention was to allow other ships to offload wounded to the better facilities aboard the Warstar.
The ship also had accommodation and supplies for an entire ten-thousand strong division of Marines, who were housed in the centre section, near to the ventral hull, where armoured and concealed hangers held the big Leopard dropships that would ferry them to ground. In short, the Warstar was intended to be a one-ship task force; able to smash her way through orbital defences, establish air superiority over the planet and deploy and support a large landing force.
All of that was in her future however. Right now, she was still a week away from having a name and a real crew. No one expected just how soon she would be baptised in fire and destruction.
======
Yes, the Nemesis is a big ship. Yes, she has a lot of weapons and a lot of long-range striking power. No, the Terran's won't be building more of her, not for several years at least. Yes, the air wing, the Marines and the "smash through orbital defences to land troops" will come in handy.
Yes, we get some hints of the Furlings. I felt I had to address this, as with the Nox showing up (briefly) and the Asgard still around and helpful, it seems inevitable that someone would ask the little grey guys about the unknown Fourth Race. Really, I'm amazed no-one did in the actual show. Or that Daniel never looked it up in the Asgard Core after the series finale.
So yes, we get some hints. I will make this clear: The Furlings will not be appearing in this story. They might appear if and when I get around to a sequel, once I've decided what their great task/enemy was. Maybe they, to quote the Doctor, "went off to fight a bigger war."
LadyTever: If you wouldn't mind helping out, I can PM you a different list of names for The Eleven and you can edit them in place of the shoutout heavy list thats currently there.
Anyways, on with the post. This is a long one, and I shamelessly admit that's because half of it is spent describing Nemesis. But she's going to be important to the future story and I like the mental image I have for the ship and her armaments and capabilities. So there.
Progress
Two Months Later
It would be a stretch of the imagination to say that things around Terra had returned to normal over the last two months. With the regular presence of at least two Asgard vessels and the occasional visit from one of the Tau’ri’s battlecruisers, the dwindling collection of Cylon debris and her own refitted and expanded fleet, Terran orbital space was busier than ever.
“New normal” was the term used by the people on the surface. Despite the strangeness of meeting other non-Kobolian humans and actual aliens, things had proceeded remarkably smoothly. The more religious elements of the populations, both Colonial and Terran, had been soothed somewhat by the fact that the Sacred Scrolls and the Book of the Word both spoke of the Asgard, albeit the Scrolls had not mentioned that they were a different species from the Lords. As for the Tau’ri, it was also relatively easy to accommodate them within their belief system – the Tau’ri too were connected to the Lords of Kobol, even if it were in a somewhat more distant fashion than the Kobolians.
The Nox and the Furlings also did not cause problems. The Nox, because they too were spoken of in the Scrolls or the Book and appeared as harmless and polite as it was possible for a being to be, were largely ignored. This was made even easier because only two of them had ever visited Terra, and then only briefly.
The Furlings, too, were spoken of in the scriptures. But they were even easier to reconcile – not even the Nox or the Asgard had seen neither hide nor hair of them for at least twelve thousand years. Daniel Jackson, who had taken up a role as a semi-official Tau’ri Ambassador to the Alliance (a role that neither Generals Hammond nor O’Neill were comfortable performing themselves) had finally gotten around to asking Thor about this final enigmatic member of their Alliance.
Thor had answered him with a great sadness in his voice: ”Millennia ago, the Furlings informed the other races that they had to withdraw from this galaxy, even from this galactic cluster. They said they had a great task to perform, a great enemy to defeat…and that not even we of the Alliance could help them in this battle. They left a beacon in a stable orbit around the supermassive black hole at the centre of this galaxy that we could use to contact them, but we were warned not to do so unless certain very specific events had occurred. Those events have not come to pass and the beacon remains dormant.”
Daniel, being the ever-curious man that he was, pressed the diminutive grey being for more.
”They did say that they would return eventually, but not for a long time. As for the conditions to use their beacon, they are complex and highly detailed, but in short, not enough time has passed for the stars to be right.” Daniel had left it at that, leaving it as something for him to puzzle over in his spare time. Instead, he had moved on to other matters.
Something else had occurred that helped people move on from events of the battle. In the central plaza of the capital city, stood the completed Memorial to the Battle of Terra. A central monolith of smooth onyx reached a hundred feet into the sky, and upon its sides were etched the names of the fallen. Around this central pillar were twelve smaller pillars, each bearing the name of one of the twelve destroyed vessels and an impressive rendering of the ship’s crests and mottos.
Whilst the civilian populations on the surface were adapting to this new and strange universe they found themselves in, the Combined Fleet was restoring itself to its former glory. Three weeks before, Lionheart had slipped from her moorings and re-joined the Fleet, her damage repaired and her systems upgraded with the Alliance-designed armour capacitors, coupled with new neutrino-ion generators to supplement her powerful naquada reactors. She was now faster than before, her shields stronger, her guns more powerful. Almost before she had assumed her place in the formation, the Excalibur began to move into the vacated dock for her own refit to what some called “Flight II” standard.
The other five docks at Olympus Base were also busy. The three newest Battlestars had been completed and were now finishing their own Asgard upgrades whilst Pegasus completed her own refit, following Warspite. Their hulls were completely replaced with the superconductive armour of the Terran ships and they received the same upgraded generators. The two Colonial Battlestars were still not as powerful as a Terran built ship, but they proved just how skilled their designers and builders had been – the hulls had taken the upgrades far more easily than anyone expected. It also had the effect of replacing their usual gunmetal-grey paint schemes with the gleaming white colour worn by the Terran ships.
It was the sixth capital berth that held the most interest for people on the surface and in the observation decks however. Within this berth was the hulk of the Galactica; it was clear to everyone that the ship simply could not be repaired to fighting standard, or even to a standard sufficient to survive an FTL jump. Instead, the two Admirals had agreed her fate.
Olympus Base would restore the venerable ship’s hull to her pre-battle standard, the damaged compartments would be faithfully rebuilt, the destroyed flight pod and engines would be lovingly replaced. For whilst Galactica would never jump again, her frame was still strong enough to handle a stable orbit and hold an atmosphere in place. Ironically, her fate was the same one she had escaped so determinedly in the Fall – she would become a museum and a memorial to the Cylon Wars.
Her name and her legacy would live on however. The two Admirals had also agreed on this point. Of the three new Terran Battlestars, only the third (provisionally named Temeraire) still needed a Captain – Kate Stewart and Stephen Garrett having been appointed to command Victorious and Republic respectively.
The third Battlestar would instead become the new Galactica and placed under Colonial control – and under command of the newly-promoted Commander Saul Tigh. All of the old Colonial crew were accompanying him, along with the Terrans who had fought aboard her over Terra. There would be a formal ceremony in a week’s time, when the three new ships were ready for service: the old Galactica would be formally decommissioned by the President and Admiral Adama. Her standard and her commissioning plaque would then be transferred, with an honour guard, across to the next berth where the new Galactica waited to receive her legacy.
But the Battlestars were not the only focus at the vast shipyard – each of the six capital berths had six further destroyer-scale berths attached to it – and every one of those berths were close to launching a completed vessel. Twenty of them were new destroyers, whilst the remaining sixteen was exploration vessels to begin scouting the galaxy for new resources and new worlds.
The three new Lionhearts, the twenty new destroyers of the Challenger class and the sixteen explorers of the Endeavour class were all nearly ready to be launched – in several cases they were already prepared. But the launchings had been delayed until Styx Base finished work on the Warstar Nemesis, it having been decided to hold the launching and commissioning ceremonies together in a single grand event.
The Warstar herself was in fact completed at this point and was a week away from Terran orbit, being towed gradually by every tug that was not needed for ferrying battle debris to Tartarus Base. The massive ship, as per both Terran and Colonial tradition, would not move under her own power, or even be referred to by her name, until she had been formally commissioned into the Fleet. This long slow cruise from Styx Base served as a pre-shakedown cruise; whilst the main drives would not be tested on this trip, other systems were given a thorough examination to confirm that she was ready to be handed over to the Fleet and her first crew.
The ship itself was vast. No other descriptor seemed appropriate for her. She was the pinnacle of Terran warship design and even the Asgard were impressed at the power and the scale of her construction. Her white hull gleamed in the starlight as the three and a half kilometre long vessel continued onwards to Terra.
Her hull largely conformed to the standard Battlestar arrangement but there were noticeable differences. Her central hull had a hexagonal profile, wider than it was tall. From the port and starboard sides of this hull stretched the five pylons connected to each flight pod. In another departure from Battlestar designs, the Warstar boasted four such pods, arranged in two pairs, one above and one below the centreline, giving the ship a much bulkier appearance.
Each pod would be home to no less than eight squadrons of twenty Cobras each, giving the ship a total fighter strength of 640. The ship would also carry four squadrons of Scimitar bombers and another four of Scythe gunships, giving the ship no less than eight hundred planes in total. The pods were fully two and a half times the length of the pods on the Lionheart class and, taking a hint from the Mercury class Colonial ships, sported a second, full-length landing deck on the underside of each pod – this was only for use in emergencies though, as the “upside down” landing decks had no elevators to bring small craft to the hanger decks.
From the rear of the main hull emerged the massive drive section, which housed eight huge sublight drives and four FTL drives – the minimum needed to move a vessel this big between star systems. Some of the ships main generators were housed here whilst more were found back within the cavernous main hull: an effective combination of naquada reactors and neutrino-ion generators provided all the power needed for the enormous vessel. With so much internal volume available, the ship’s builders had included multiple redundant generators as well as storage for spare small craft – in fact, a spare for every fighter, bomber or gunship carried was stored in the ship’s holds.
Along the top and the bottom of the main hull was a large raised ridge, running along both the ship’s back and her keel, which linked the drive section to the bow section. The bow was where the main divergence from the Battlestar pattern was evident. The bow section flared outwards and forwards from the main hull before tapering gradually forwards similar to the Mercury class. Like the Colonial ship, the Warstar had a “trench” running around the bow section where a number of weapon batteries were located. At the very front of the ship, there was a large vertical trench , giving the impression of a split hull and four fangs or talons reaching forwards, one pair above and one below the centreline trench. Each of those fangs held a trio of Battlestar-grade mega-lasers, giving the ship three times the forward firepower of a Lionheart.
But between those fangs was the ship’s real main weapon. The designers had gone even bigger with their applications of energy weapons to produce what they collectively dubbed a superlaser – the weapon was expected to be capable of providing a one-hit-kill on shielded capital ships at long range. Such power had limitations however, the recharge time was a full ten minutes, or just three if power was drawn from the other weapons, engines or shields. The weapon had no elevation or traverse, requiring very precise positioning of the ship and the energy discharge was powerful enough to blind the ship’s own sensors for a few seconds after firing.
The rest of the ship’s offensive punch was found in the hundreds of turbolaser batteries placed on the dorsal and ventral hulls, on the flight pods, the drive section, anywhere they could be mounted, giving the ship very good arcs of fire. Meanwhile, thousands of point-defence laser cannons would supplement the incredibly strong shields. Along the dorsal ridge was a line of four turrets, each mounting a single mega-laser. Combined with the four identical ventral turrets, they provided a very powerful anti-ship punch that did not require reorienting the entire ship.
The Warstar was more than a pure combat vessel however. Within the heavily armoured bow was an enlarged Fleet Operations Centre, allowing the flag officers aboard to coordinate an entire war if needs be. Secure accommodation for VIP’s was included, as was a large and extremely well-equipped hospital – no mere infirmary or sickbay for this vessel. The intention was to allow other ships to offload wounded to the better facilities aboard the Warstar.
The ship also had accommodation and supplies for an entire ten-thousand strong division of Marines, who were housed in the centre section, near to the ventral hull, where armoured and concealed hangers held the big Leopard dropships that would ferry them to ground. In short, the Warstar was intended to be a one-ship task force; able to smash her way through orbital defences, establish air superiority over the planet and deploy and support a large landing force.
All of that was in her future however. Right now, she was still a week away from having a name and a real crew. No one expected just how soon she would be baptised in fire and destruction.
======
Yes, the Nemesis is a big ship. Yes, she has a lot of weapons and a lot of long-range striking power. No, the Terran's won't be building more of her, not for several years at least. Yes, the air wing, the Marines and the "smash through orbital defences to land troops" will come in handy.
Yes, we get some hints of the Furlings. I felt I had to address this, as with the Nox showing up (briefly) and the Asgard still around and helpful, it seems inevitable that someone would ask the little grey guys about the unknown Fourth Race. Really, I'm amazed no-one did in the actual show. Or that Daniel never looked it up in the Asgard Core after the series finale.
So yes, we get some hints. I will make this clear: The Furlings will not be appearing in this story. They might appear if and when I get around to a sequel, once I've decided what their great task/enemy was. Maybe they, to quote the Doctor, "went off to fight a bigger war."
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.
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.
Re: The Thirteenth Tribe (nBSG/SG Crossover)
Cthulhu mythos reference with the Furling beacon, much?
I had thought that the mega-lasers were spinal weapons, around which the Lionheart hull was built - looks like that ain't so, as they have some independent traverse that the warstar's spinal superlaser does not have.
So when dust settles, the Terran Navy will have in commission:
2x flight II-standard Warspite-class battlestars (flight II being the armour and supercap upgrades, from looks), Warspite and Pegasus
2x converted-to-flight-II Lionheart-class battlestars, Lionheart and Excalibur
3x new-build flight-II Lionheart-class battlestars, [i[Victorious[/i], Republic and Galactica
1x new-build Nemesis-class warstar, Nemesis
25x surviving + new-build Challenger-class destroyers. Will the Challys be getting their own flight-II remix (Asgard bang-bang, blackjack, hookers?)?
16x new-build Endeavour-class explorer/scouts
Whole motza of small craft
Who's actually driving Nemesis? Whoever's hoisting their flag (Adama Sr being obvious choice since Battleaxe should normally only embark in a BoT-style situation) will have their hands full with fleet ops.
Shouldn't that just be plain Tau'ri, along same lines as Asgard, Terran, Colonial, etc?occasional visit from one of the Tau’ri’s battlecruisers
I had thought that the mega-lasers were spinal weapons, around which the Lionheart hull was built - looks like that ain't so, as they have some independent traverse that the warstar's spinal superlaser does not have.
So when dust settles, the Terran Navy will have in commission:
2x flight II-standard Warspite-class battlestars (flight II being the armour and supercap upgrades, from looks), Warspite and Pegasus
2x converted-to-flight-II Lionheart-class battlestars, Lionheart and Excalibur
3x new-build flight-II Lionheart-class battlestars, [i[Victorious[/i], Republic and Galactica
1x new-build Nemesis-class warstar, Nemesis
25x surviving + new-build Challenger-class destroyers. Will the Challys be getting their own flight-II remix (Asgard bang-bang, blackjack, hookers?)?
16x new-build Endeavour-class explorer/scouts
Whole motza of small craft
Who's actually driving Nemesis? Whoever's hoisting their flag (Adama Sr being obvious choice since Battleaxe should normally only embark in a BoT-style situation) will have their hands full with fleet ops.
A mad person thinks there's a gateway to hell in his basement. A mad genius builds one and turns it on. - CaptainChewbacca
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Eternal_Freedom
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Re: The Thirteenth Tribe (nBSG/SG Crossover)
Good catch on the Tau'ri thing.
On the fleet lists, it's only 24 destroyers, 4 survivors and 20 new-builds. The destroyers are being upgraded with better generators, but it isn't practical to fit them with superconductive armour like the Battlestars/Warstar - there is a minimum size needed to safely disperse the energy. Put it on too small a ship and you won't have the incoming weapon energy being spread out enough to avoid damage. Don't expect to see the destroyers playing a major role in the story though from here, I have other plans.
And technically, the Pegasus, Warspite and the new Galactica are Colonial Fleet vessels that, along with the purely Terran Navy vessels, operate under one unified command - hence reference to Lethbridge-Stewart being both Commanding Admiral of the Terran Navy and Commander of the Combined Fleet.
The mega-lasers? I never said they were spinal weapons - I said they replaced the spinal KEW's on Warspite. They are large cumbersome weapons that take up considerable space, but they do have some traverse/elevation - a few degrees at most. Nemesis is only able to mount turretted versions because she's so damn big, and only then because a lot of the equipment (capacitors, amplifiers etc) can be within the hull and not the turret.
As for who is driving Nemesis, I haven't decided yet. I know who is going to fly their flag from her, but I ain't spilling that yet.
There should be one more chapter that sets up "Part 3 - The War in Heaven" and then the next campaign kicks off.
EDIT: I should point out that the Warstar concept and how it is implemented (the one-ship-assault-fleet, the Marine division etc) are heavily inspired by WSG-1: The Fall of the Colonies by Kelso 323, who has a rather interesting take on the End of the World
On the fleet lists, it's only 24 destroyers, 4 survivors and 20 new-builds. The destroyers are being upgraded with better generators, but it isn't practical to fit them with superconductive armour like the Battlestars/Warstar - there is a minimum size needed to safely disperse the energy. Put it on too small a ship and you won't have the incoming weapon energy being spread out enough to avoid damage. Don't expect to see the destroyers playing a major role in the story though from here, I have other plans.
And technically, the Pegasus, Warspite and the new Galactica are Colonial Fleet vessels that, along with the purely Terran Navy vessels, operate under one unified command - hence reference to Lethbridge-Stewart being both Commanding Admiral of the Terran Navy and Commander of the Combined Fleet.
The mega-lasers? I never said they were spinal weapons - I said they replaced the spinal KEW's on Warspite. They are large cumbersome weapons that take up considerable space, but they do have some traverse/elevation - a few degrees at most. Nemesis is only able to mount turretted versions because she's so damn big, and only then because a lot of the equipment (capacitors, amplifiers etc) can be within the hull and not the turret.
As for who is driving Nemesis, I haven't decided yet. I know who is going to fly their flag from her, but I ain't spilling that yet.
There should be one more chapter that sets up "Part 3 - The War in Heaven" and then the next campaign kicks off.
EDIT: I should point out that the Warstar concept and how it is implemented (the one-ship-assault-fleet, the Marine division etc) are heavily inspired by WSG-1: The Fall of the Colonies by Kelso 323, who has a rather interesting take on the End of the World
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.
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.
Re: The Thirteenth Tribe (nBSG/SG Crossover)
Replacing the spinal slugthrowers would be where I got the mixup from.
It looks like Nemesis can also handle the Aegis area-defence role - it may well have Enough Dakka.
Is it a capital starship (filling the dreadnought role, from your description), or a mobile base?
How many flight-I Lionhearts could have been built instead?
It looks like Nemesis can also handle the Aegis area-defence role - it may well have Enough Dakka.
Is it a capital starship (filling the dreadnought role, from your description), or a mobile base?
How many flight-I Lionhearts could have been built instead?
A mad person thinks there's a gateway to hell in his basement. A mad genius builds one and turns it on. - CaptainChewbacca
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Eternal_Freedom
- Castellan
- Posts: 10369
- Joined: 2010-03-09 02:16pm
- Location: CIC, Battlestar Temeraire
Re: The Thirteenth Tribe (nBSG/SG Crossover)
Nemesis is intended to be both a dreadnought and a one-ship assault fleet. "Mobile Base" is stretching it, as it doesn't have any Cobra/Scythe/Scimitar production capacity besides the spare planes in storage. As for area-defence, not really. The Terran NAvy very much subscribes to the idea that each ship has to be able to stand on it's own if necessary. Certainly, close formations for combined point-defence fire is preferred but the ships have to be able to run solo.fnord wrote: ↑2017-09-04 03:14am Replacing the spinal slugthrowers would be where I got the mixup from.
It looks like Nemesis can also handle the Aegis area-defence role - it may well have Enough Dakka.
Is it a capital starship (filling the dreadnought role, from your description), or a mobile base?
How many flight-I Lionhearts could have been built instead?
As for how many Battlestars, probably 4 or so on materials alone. BUT...building one large dock for the Warstar was both quicker and less resource-intensive than expanding Olympus Base with an extra 4 capital berths.
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.
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.
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Sky Captain
- Jedi Master
- Posts: 1267
- Joined: 2008-11-14 12:47pm
- Location: Latvia
Re: The Thirteenth Tribe (nBSG/SG Crossover)
Interesting, Nemesis seems massive overkill in Stargate universe. IIRC only Anubis battleship may be credible opponent.
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Eternal_Freedom
- Castellan
- Posts: 10369
- Joined: 2010-03-09 02:16pm
- Location: CIC, Battlestar Temeraire
Re: The Thirteenth Tribe (nBSG/SG Crossover)
Consider that I've already made mention of Ba'al fleeing to Pegasus. Consider that at this point in the timeline the SGC has not yet received the distress call from Atlantis showing what they're facing.
Consider how big and powerful Wraith Hive Ships are
Consider how big and powerful Wraith Hive Ships are
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.
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.