34INTRO: You need to read Neptune's Revenge before starting this book. The Colonials after joining forces with a group from Rifts Earth had thrown the Cylons off of New Caprica. Now they must repair, rebuild, recover, and then prepare for the future. The Cylons are gone, for now. The now mixed group must work together to find the planet that the Colonial are looking for along with the 13th Tribe that might be living on it, or they both might die off.
To be safe I think Fiction T is the best rating.
I do not own Battlestar Galactica or have any connection with them, other than I have seen the shows. And it was a long time ago. I also do not own or have input into the game of Rifts. I don't even play the game. But I do own copies of some of the books, and I have used them for this story.
BOOK 2
Neptune's Revenge: Sailing the Dark Sea
Chapter 1 Starbuck and Cards
New Caprica, 786 Days after the Fall of the Colonies, 3 years 6 month AT
It had now been a full month since the vote of the Quorum. It had not taken long for word of the vote to get out to the rest of the fleet. It had taken only slightly longer for word about what had happened during the meeting to reach the Settlement. Luckily that had reached them before they had found out about the details of what had been discussed.
It had not gone over well for the general population of the Settlement. It took the recent additions from the Colonials to explain why it had happened the way it had. It helped little because of how soundly the the idea had been rejected by almost all of the Colonial governing body. There were still some sore feelings among the Earthers and not a few Colonials about the ideas that the vote had been based on.
The other thing that had helped greatly in getting relations on a better footing was the lottery Admiral Adama had started up for the Earthers. The prize: a seat on a once daily flight on a Raptor for up to eight people to take a trip up to the Battlestar Galactica. He already had some volunteers rounded up to help give those Earthers a nice little tour of the old warship.
Adama hated dealing with any civilians. But he would do what he needed to do if it helped his new but very powerful allies to calm down again. It was amazing how much good will you can get by giving people who had never had access to even very high altitude flight some free rides into space. Followed by a few hours of touring a big spaceship lead by volunteers who spoke passable English most of the time.
Working with those Volunteers had brought one of them to Bill Adma's attention. She had asked for a short private meeting with him not long after she had started her tours. She had told him that the Settlement liked precious metals, as well as what he knew of as strategic metals. That was not a big surprise to him. What was a surprise was that they had an open trade.
Apparently the little wood walled village had had a legal gambling house for some time now. He had been briefed a few times on the economy the Earthers had set up for themselves. He knew it revolved around recharging and the everyday use of those amazing battery-like things called E-clips.
Now this seemed like a secondary economy of some kind, but not like the one that the Colonial black markets was running. He did some checks to make sure it was all true, he had to make sure about a few things on his side of the equation. For one thing, he needed to make sure no one would be alarmed that the military leader of what remained of the Colonial military was interested in that type of information.
Once he was sure, he called Laura and the head of her legal team for a private meeting. Which they then had to postpone while they scoured the fleet for somebody with the right legal background. As soon as the meeting had ended, a few hours later, he pulled out a few items from the ship's safe that very few people knew about. Then he had Starbuck called in to his cabin for a private meeting.
Starbuck had looked like death warmed over every time he had been able to take the time out of his day to see her. Bill had seen her at least once every day since he had found out she was still alive. His family was about as together again as it had been since before the Cylons had blasted them to the Stone Age with the surprise attack.
He had seen the reports. Even the reports his XO Colonel Tigh did not get to see. He had seen detailed medical records that only the doctor or father normally would have access to in more conventional times.
He had no idea what they did to her while she had been in that 'Cell' for so long without any real human contact. But he had seen what Cylons could do to the human mind and body in the First Cylon War and it seemed that, if anything, they had gotten even better at that horrible game of playing with human minds without hurting the physical body. Her husband Samuel T. Anders was trying to help, but the jury was still out on if it was going to be any actual help or not. Maybe it was time to see if a different game would work on fixing whatever was broken with her.
Bill Adama knew that Kara Thrace was supposed to be in his office soon, but with her you never knew when she would show up to most meetings. She was like a daughter to him, he had never thought differently. Even after his youngest son, Zack had died in that Viper training flight. If she was late it was not because she was disrespecting him in any way. It was because she might have seen something shiny on the way to where she was supposed to be.
That was one of the many reasons she was such a great Viper Pilot. She would notice things. Things that others would miss. Even while just walking down the deck of a Battlestar. She could never make it that far on nature hikes, but she could run on a track like there was no tomorrow.
When the knock sounded on the hatch to his cabin, it was ten minutes before Starbuck was due for her meeting with him. Now Bill had no idea who it might be on the other side of the hatch. It should not have been who he was expecting. Starbuck was never early…to anything but a bar that is.
Starbuck was propped up against one metal wall of the corridor and was waiting outside of Adama's cabin. She was just standing near the hatch to the Admirals Day Cabin, completely ignoring all that passed by. She had been there for some time, but she was just waiting till it was closer to her appointment time. After all it was not like she had anything better to do today. She knew that she was not tracking right, or close to normal even for her.
She was trying her best to get her feet back under her mentally, but she knew that she was not combat ready. And if she knew that, then the Doctor did also. If the Doc reported back to the Old Man about her wrecked mental state, he would pull her Viper flying status, and she would not be allowed to fly.
She did not know what she would do if the Admiral did something like that to her. She told her husband last night about the message to see the older Adama, and what she thought that it might be about. Sam knew how devastating losing her flight status might be, and had taken her in his arms to try to calm her down.
He told her that they would 'find' something to do if it came to that. He told her she was smart, a skilled Viper pilot, and a good frakking operation planner. If they did not want her in combat, that was okay with him because now she would be safer someplace else the next time they got into a fight against the Cylons.
Sam said that there was talk going around in some circles of the fleet. That the Colonials were working on integrating some of the Earther tech into Vipers and Raptors. He said she might be able to get a job as a test pilot or something along those lines.
Starbuck had not thought about them adding some of the Earther tech items into Colonial ships. She did not know if they would pick her up as a test pilot or not. She had a reputation for being the best Pilot in what remained of the Fleet's Viper force but how would that carry over to being a test pilot? The way her luck had been running lately they were more likely to put her in a padded room on one of the other ships rather than let her take on a test piloting or consulting job for new generation Colonial small craft.
She had seen the Earthers' body armor first hand, and even some of their weapons in use. She had thought that they were just amazing after she realized that she was not dreaming them up in her own head. If they could figure out a way add some of that to a Viper, and get it to working even half way right? Now that might be a job she would like to do after all. Even if it meant she was pulled from combat operations…for now.
Now all she had to do was sit around waiting in the access way outside of the elder Adama's day cabin. That never was her strong suit, even when she was hitting on all mental cylinders, and yet she so was doing that today. She checked her watch for what must be the hundredth time in the last half hour, and a deep frown came to her face. She was already starting to get some looks from people passing by, standing there in the metal walled hallway. She was getting jumpy, so as soon as it was close enough to the meeting time to fit her mental picture, she stuck the hard metal hatch with her right fist. That done, she waited to be allowed to enter the room, and most likely find out about her future as a combat Viper pilot.
Bill checked the desk mounted clock, then looked back at the hatch and ordered his mind to be quiet before addressing the knock. "Enter."
Adama started evaluating her the second it took his very quick brain to realize who it was entering his office. She was early. Her hair was in need of a brush but it was at least clean and so were her clothes. However it was the way she walked and then how she sat in the chair in front of his office desk that told the most about how she was doing mentally.
His Starbuck had always had a predatory and cat-like grace when she moved around the room. Whenever she took a seat, it was more like a bird of prey perching waiting for its next meal. Now she was moving almost like she was stiff, her walking tentative and uncertain. And when she sat in the chair in front of his desk, it was almost like she fell into the chair to hide from something. Far from the bird of prey he was used to seeing.
She was watching him back with scared eyes, again not like a bird of prey at all. He had seen those types of eyes before, but not from his Starbuck. Starbuck had never given any outward sign of being anything, but cocky at least on the outside. He had known her long enough to be able to tell when she was nervous, no matter how well she tried to hide it. But she was never scared.
That was what those eyes were telling him. This was new, and he catalogued it for review later.
Starbuck watched the older Adama watch her. He had not moved a muscle that she could tell. And she was not liking the way he was looking at her without saying a word after telling her to enter his domain. She had not felt like this since Zack had died all those years ago. The elder Adama did not normally use this gaze at her, not like this. She had seen an uncountable number of battle hardened combat veterans fold under that gaze she was getting today, and it was already starting to work on her now.
"Well I better let her know what I was thinking, because I think she is about to bolt for the hatch like a cat from a pack of wild daggits," thought Bill.
He sat back in his chair, and let up a little on the look he had been giving her. This position put forward a more relaxed look to most people, and made them relax in turn or response.
"Okay Starbuck, you can breathe now. I have a mission which I would like you to do for me and the fleet. You do not have to do this, but I think it is a good fit for you and more importantly your skills." Bill stopped taking and waited to see how Kara was going to react to the bait he had just dangled in front of her nose.
Starbuck did not expect that statement, and the only thing she could do was blink a few times at the Admiral. She had to stop and think about what the Old Man had said, and after what seemed like hours, she finally gave a reply. She tried to give a 'normal' reply, but it sounded forced even to her ears.
"Sir, I have been dying to get in the cockpit again. Where am I going this time, the Cylon home planet or maybe a run back to Kobal?"
"Does he know how broken I am, and he wants me to pull another rabbit out of the hat," thought Kara.
Bill smiled back at her. It was one of his warmer and friendly smiles, at least for the ones that normally came for him. Of course she would assume that it was a secret mission, in command of a Viper or Raptor attack of some kind. "No, Starbuck not this time. I was not thinking about anything like that, just yet. The Doc has to clear you for a return to flight status first anyway. And from what I understand, right now he is backlogged with patching up hurt jocks and crew, physicals, and interviews from non-prisoners. I'm sorry to say, that your medical check out is at the bottom of a long list of reports he still has to finish." Bill tried to keep a stern look as he explained a few things.
That part about the long list of people ahead of her was not exactly true. Sherman Cottle had already looked at her, and talked to Bill about what he had thought was her primary medical condition. Between them, they had moved her name to the bottom of the checkout list. It was hoped that this would let her buy some time for her to come out of her funk by herself.
"What I was thinking about, was another set of skills you have. And ones that I have seen you use more than a few times in this room." He raised one eyebrow at her, and tilted his head to one side. He could see the confused look all over her face. It was at the same time funny and a bit sad. "Have you spent much time with the Earthers, since you were pulled out of that Hades' hole the Cylon had you in Starbuck?" Now he wanted to get her mind to working again.
Kara made a face and tilted her head to one side to match what Bill had done. She was trying to see what Adama was driving at, and she was not that sure where he was still driving at. "Well you won't find out if you don't answer his question you twit."
"No, Sir I haven't. I saw a few of them a couple of days ago, in the hangar bay for a tour of the ship. But that is all that I can think of right now. Why?" The last word came out of her mouth, with a just a hint of wonder and concern equally mixed between them.
Bill sat farther back in his chair and rocked back and forth a little more, letting the chair softly squeak as he moved. "Okay Starbuck what we need to do, is something that has not been done in any fleet that I have ever heard of before. I don't think it has needed to happen since maybe at the founding of the Colonies, I bet. We need items for trading with and to these Earthers. That is besides some special lights for their hot houses and food growing tunnels. We need food, and a huge list of high tech items from them."
"What we are short of are items that they need from us. Items that we don't also need as badly as they do. I had hoped to trade some raw materials to them at first and some of our own tech. That has not panned out yet, and after seeing some of what they are carrying around, I don't know what we might be able trade to them tech wise. Right now, they are pretty flush with metal recovered from all of the Centurions and Raiders that they took out in the ground battle. That, and we are also short of those same raw materials. At least until Apollo finds more, and gets back to us. All we have on hand right now, we need for our own use."
"Now here is where you come in on this, Starbuck. You have a well-developed set of skills that we might be able to find is now useful to me and the fleet." He stopped talking, and waited to see how she would respond to what had said. He wanted her to connect all the dots, which he had just laid out for her. If he could get her to start thinking, maybe it would help her pull herself back together again.
Starbuck had no idea what the older Adama was talking about. And the longer she thought about it, the more her head hurt as she tried to catch up to what the Admiral was driving at.
The only skills she was thinking about was what she had as a great pilot. And the ability to frak with Colonel Tigh like there was no tomorrow. Okay, she had also been a good flight instructor once upon a time on a planet too far away to think about right now.
"Sir, maybe I have been in that cell a little too long after all. What exactly are you talking about, Sir? I have no idea on how to make trades." The tone was soft, and sounded as confused as she looked. While she was talking she looked up, and then back down to her hands folded in her lap.
Now Bill smiled at her, and then took a little more pity on her. She normally was a lot faster on the uptake than this. He had given her plenty of hints already. Would something like that affect the skillset that he needed from her now?
"The Earthers like to gamble and drink, almost as much as my other Viper jocks do. They even have a purpose built place for it, and it's all perfectly legal under their government. These are two things that are something, which I remember you have some skills at, yes?" The last words out of his mouth were joined by a single raised eyebrow. He knew that she would understand what he was hinting out. If not, then he was going to have to look at other options to get the job done.
Starbuck was floored so badly, her jaw was swinging open in the breeze. The term was gobsmacked, and it was a lot better fit of a term for the way she was feeling as she heard those words.
Was she hearing this right? Was it that the Old Man wanted her to go drink and gamble? Her mind had by now completely forgotten about the Doc not clearing her for any flying yet. She did a quick head shake. Tried to clear some mental cobwebs that seemed to be clouding her thinking.
Even with the cobwebs gone, she still looked at her commander in utter confusion. "Sir, how would I be able to do that? It's not like I have anything to bankroll me at the tables. If we were only talking about table stakes in the mess hall, now that would be different. I can do that. But you're talking about thousands of cubits per hand to be useful for what I think you have in mind."
"To be a high roller, I have to be able to play the part of one. I've done it for a few hands, after a long tour back in the day, but only a time or three. I don't have the weight to pull it off for a whole night. Much less do something like that for a few nights in a row. Is something like this even legal?" Normally being legal would not have rated very high in Starbuck's list of things to be concerned about, but today it was a different matter. She had spent too long in a prison cell recently, and was not looking forward to spending any more time in one if she did not have to. Cylon or otherwise.
Bill Adama did not say a word at first, and his face was schooled as he reached down one side of his desk. He slowly pulled open the topmost drawer of his old and battered desk open. From there he pulled out a small but thick leather pouch, and put it on the desktop in front of them both. He did not open the leather pouch, but he kept his right hand on the tooled leather.
"I have asked around, and under their laws, which you will need to review by the way, it is legal. As for the bank rolling... I will front you the money, with this." He pushed the pouch closer to her without saying a word more. He was inviting her to take the leather package, and open it to see what he was talking about as her funding for gambling.
Starbuck's face now had an even more confused expression on it as Bill Adama pulled his hand back to his side of the desk. But she leaned forward anyway without speaking, and picked up the leather object from the desk top. Bill looked back at her like a father would and smiled. Giving the nonverbal cue for her to continue.
Starbuck opened the leather pouch and poured the items into her open left hand. In her palm was now a mix of ten silver and gold cubits shining in the cabin's light with the Colonial Navy seal stamped on them. The normal face value was not that much compared to what she was used to. But now? She had never held this much real and pure gold and silver in her hands before in her life. Those ten odd shaped coins were now equal to a few years of back pay. At least for what they were trading at within the Rag Tag fleet.
Starbuck quickly put the metal cubits back into the leather pouch, and tied it back closed so that they would not fall out when carried. She was just using the time it took to tie the leather strings and fold the tooled leather to get her mind working again.
"Sir, what's the catch?" She knew that the older Adama would not throw her out the air lock. That is unless he had to, and the reward was totally huge for a lot of people. Like save the whole fleet, and every person within it, huge. But there just had be more to this than he had said to her, so far.
Bill tilted his head down a little, and looked at her over his glasses at her without at the same time glaring at her. "That is good, you're thinking and planning out moves or counter moves. I was starting to worry there for a second that you might not be ready for something like this. The basic idea of the plan, if you decide to take this mission after all, is that you will be listed as supporting in fixing our supply issues in a military capacity while you are dirtside."
Bill held one of his hands up, because he could see Kara starting to move. "This is legal under their laws. And I will make sure all of the right paperwork is done, so that you are covered from anything that might come down from a certain few of our people. You can keep ten percent of all winnings. You can also take up to ten percent of any winnings, and use it towards living expenses for you and your husband. Everything else you bring in will be used to buy what we need to support the fleet." Bill put his hands down and gripped his high back chair's arms.
"So are you in or not? If not, I understand. But I will have to go to the mess hall, and see who else might be game or have the gaming skills to pull this off." He was pretty sure that he knew which way she was going jump, but he felt that he needed to give her a way out just in case it turned out that he was wrong. She was family after all.
Starbuck now leaned back deeper into the chair after the hand movement that had stropped her question mid lips. She could not allow someone else to represent the fleet at the card table. It would be like a daggit letting a new dog use its favorite chew toy. Something like that was just not going to happen. Not without a big time fight first.
"Okay I'm in, but what happens if I lose all of this?" She pointed a long thin arm and pointed a thin finger at the brown leather pouch in her other hand. "I'm good, but I don't think I'll know the games these people like to play. And well, it's called gambling after all, and not winning." She tossed the bag of cubits two feet into the air, and caught it again like it was nothing at all. A soft jingling sound came from the metal cubits hitting each other inside the little bag, as leather made contact with her open palm.
Bill rose from behind his desk and went to a side table along one of the walls of his cabin. He made a show of pouring two large glasses of Ambrosia from a nice cut crystal decanter. When he returned to the desk area, he sat beside his almost daughter, and handed one of the two quarter filled glasses to her. "If you lose it, I can draw out some more, but it is not unlimited. So don't blow it all. Because I will have to pay it back if this plan blows up in our face."
"I need you both ready and packed right the frak now. I was going on the evening Raptor to the Settlement tonight. I would like you and your husband to join me on the trip down. I have a meeting with their leadership, and I want you to start as soon as possible. While I'm there, I can personally make sure that you're listed correctly with the leadership of the Settlement. That way no one can say that they didn't know what you're doing and who you were doing it for."
"If you can't make it, then you can try to catch the normal Raptor run in the morning. I would, however, really prefer you ride down with me." He had changed his mind at the last minute, and when she agreed to do the job. Originally it was planned out that they would fly down in the morning, now he wanted her to ride down with him. It should not be that big of a deal for Kara and Sam. After all most of the surviving Colonials did not have much to pack any more.
Kara did not say anything for a few seconds, as she fully made up her mind about what she was going to do. She looked down at the drink in her hand, then looked back up to Bill and gave a nod of understanding to what he had said.
Bill gave an answering nod, and they touched glasses and drank deeply of the amber liquid. It was just early in afternoon, but after the last few years, it really did not matter to them when they had a stiff drink among friends and family. For the next two hours the pair talked and finished the drink that Bill had poured for them.
It was only small talk, but it was the key that would start her on the road to coming to grips with what happened to her. She never would be back to what anyone could call normal, but a long road to travel was started with but a small step onto the pavement. She never even thought that she might want to check with her husband about the short notice relocation that she had been asked to do. Packing would be quick between the two of them. They might have a small rucksack or two full of personnel items including clothes between them.
Three hours after Starbuck had left the Admiral's Day Cabin, she was in the only hangar bay left on the Battlestar Galactica. Starbuck and her husband were part of a small group that boarded the Raptor marked for launching at one end of the overworked small craft support area. They only people on the small craft tonight were the pilot, the ECO, Adama, Starbuck, and Anders along with a few rucksacks on the floor of the small craft. It would have been filled with more, at least eight more people normally, but once Adama had put his name on the passenger list for this bird, the staff moved everyone else from that flight and put them on other flights with only a message that they had been bumped. This was done without the Admiral's knowledge. However he would have been both grateful, and a little annoyed that they had used his rank for his own advantage.
This will be Bill Adama's only second flight to the planetside settlement to date. He had too much to do to just be able to take a short hop down. Secretly he was hoping that this would change in the near future. Only a few people in the fleet knew why this meeting was going to take place. Most, upon seeing the Admiral going down gravity well, would just assume it was a sightseeing trip of some kind.
Bill could only wish he could take the time off, and just do some sightseeing or fishing for that matter. He knew that this was going to be a stressful trip. Adama tried to distract himself by watching the ground come up towards them as they cleared the high level cloud cover. As they flew over the seaward mountains, and then lined up on the improvised landing pad it was an amazing sight to distract the older Adama.
If this bit of land had been back on one of the planets in the Colonies, it would have been a very high end resort of some kind by the time that Bill Adama's farther was born. That was if any of the visitors could forget about the cold and rain that plagued this planet.
"This is where we should have put up a camp, instead of the muddy plain like Baltar demanded we should do." This was mumbled by the military commander as he looked out the side window of the Raptor in a low voice that dripped with venom.
As the Raptor continued its descent, his mind raced with thoughts that went through his mind in pain filled lightning bolts. "If we had just taken the time to plan a little more or better, then maybe the Cylons would have had a different reception than they got. When they found this planet, they might not have found us such an easy pushover. That Gods frakking damned Baltar. If they had not rushed so much when they first got to this system. Then things could have been so much different this time."
Adama was so deep in thought that he did not even realize that they had landed in the grassy area until the hatch popped open and the cool damp air rushed into the warm little transport craft he was riding in. After being stuck on a ship for so long the cold, the damp air hit Bill like a slap in the face.
The pilot on this run was one of the new and growing pool of recruits. One that had just finished the flight basic course on board one of the Battlestars. Both of the crew members were waiting for Adama, who, according to tradition should exit the Raptor first on any non-combat mission. He had to wave them to exit their stations, to show that he was ready for the craft to be emptied. No one would exit the craft until he checked a few items that one part of his brain had noticed on the flight down.
No one was waiting on the flattened tall grass of the space that had been set aside as the landing area. "Well, it seems they are waiting for me." Thought Adama to himself as he kept his face from showing what was on his mind.
"Crew." Any namepatch on the obviously young pilot's flightsuit was obscured by the protective vest. If they had even gotten around to making him one. This one was so new that Bill hadn't gotten to know him yet and hadn't yet earned a callsign that he could recall. Bill felt himself sigh at the squeaky new pilot. "One of you can go into town, at a time. But the one that stays by the craft has to stay alert at all times." With the directions to the Raptor crew given, it started to empty out the one exit. But the people did not go far from the hatch after making the short hop from the low slung wing to the grass covered ground.
When Adama exited the craft, and put his first foot on the grass covered ground, the young newly qualified pilot snapped a very sharp salute. He was still standing on the wing when he sang out, "Sir! We will be ready to go whenever you're ready to lift, sir!"
The young pilot's voice kept getting higher and higher, until it almost broke from the young throat. Bill took four years off his estimate of the young man's age with the breaking of his voice. He had to fight to not start shaking his head in disbelief at the young man's age.
"Was I ever that young?" Bill wondered.
He forced himself to just nod at the young crewmen. Before he could say more. Bill heard a familiar sound coming towards him, and it was one that was not known to be used by the Earthers. He and the rest of the group turned to watch two Colonial military cargo trucks loaded to almost overflowing with metal salvage visible over their high walled sides.
The wheeled cargo trucks had come rumbling out of the woods only a few dozen yards away. They quickly went from the tree line, across the open ground, and into an open wood clad gate. That gate just as quickly, closed behind the two trucks. At first Bill did not understand what he was seeing, and then remembered the report about the attack on the Wood cutting detail. The one that had been so successful for both the Earthers and the Colonial units out in the forest. That must have been were the Earthers got those Colonial made military class cargo trucks. Because Bill was pretty sure that those trucks had not come from any of his ships.
After the trucks were both gone from sight and hearing, Bill turned to look at the odd couple standing next to him. The Colonial wide known sports star and the Viper pilot from the wrong side of the spaceport were the definition of an odd couple if there ever was one.
The pair were not holding hands, but they were standing so close together that they were almost in each other's pocket. He hoped that they were on the way to patching things up between them. He was not sure that their pairing was a good idea, but he could tell that Sam loved Starbuck. He also knew that you could never know who Starbuck was bound to fall for.
"Okay, you two. There's small log hotel set up near the building that they call Warehouse One. That should do till you can find other arrangements that might fit you two better." Bill turned slightly so that he was center on the woman.
"Starbuck you have the list of items I am looking for?" He gave the short haired blonde woman a slight nod of his head to emphasize his question. He would be standing there until she replied to what he had asked.
She patted a pocket on her field jacket with her right hand, but did not say a word.
Adama nodded accepting that she did indeed have the object in question on her person. "Okay let me know how things are going after you get settled in. I don't need or expect daily contact, but don't make me have to call you for an update." He looked back at the gate that had now re-opened and let an open topped hovercar exit the wood clad device. It was heading toward him about as fast as a human could run on open ground, so he assumed it was for him.
Looking back at the two warriors, he shook hands with them one last time. "Good luck. Remember, we need that stuff as fast as you can get me the funds to buy them myself or the items. Apollo should be back in a week or two, but you know I don't like to have a single point of failure anywhere in a plan if I can help it." He gave them a smile, as he boarded the now stopped hover car two steps away from him.
Bill was able to watch the two Colonials pick up their few bags, and start to walk to the Wood clad wall and gate under their own power. He wished he could have dropped them off at this Warehouse One place, but this was a very small little hover car that only had one open seat. Maybe it was best for them to walk around some on their own. Then they could get a better feeling about the layout of this strange town while they made their way to their home for the next few days. Besides, you never know. They might need the alone time without dad being around.
That was Bill Adama's last thought of the pair as the small hover car went through the defensive gates, and he lost sight of the two. It did not take long for the little hover car to catch up and pass the two scrap metal filled cargo trucks. It seemed to him that the cargo trucks were also going to one of the two ocean-going ships, that he was also heading towards.
For some reason, that stuck in his mind as a possibly important piece of information to add to the still limited data on these people. He had the feeling that the Colonials knew more about the Cylons than they did of this group. That was not true but it did feel that way sometimes.
As he worked on those facts, he started to wonder. "Why were they not storing all of that salvage metal in one of the warehouses on dry land?" He did not doubt that there was some kind of a reason for it. The leadership of these humans did not strike him as people that just did things without putting at least some thought into it first. He was wishing that he could say the same for most of his people's leadership throughout their blood soaked history.
The meeting Bill was headed to was on the more heavily armed of the two ships in the protected bay. It was strangely named, and it caused a lot of confusion on the Colonial ships that held people that were more religiously inclined. That had been when the whole Colonial fleet had found out that in the old scrolls, Neptune turned out to be another name for the water God Poseidon in Colonial legends. But the Earthers had claimed repeatedly and very publicly, not to know about the Lords of Kobol.
In the end it was chalked up to be more lost knowledge on the Earthers' part. All because of the two hundred plus year Dark Age, the one that they had said that they had just come out of as a planet.
This time the meeting Bill was going to was not taking place in the main meeting room, but in the command section near the top most deck of the ship. It was a good view of the rest of the forward part of the long ship, and Adama took advantage of it so that he could see for himself the ship in the fading light of the setting local sun.
On the sly, Bill had ordered the Raptors to take as many images as they could whenever they overflew the Settlement. The images that were produced were not as helpful as he had hoped they would be. They did, however, give him a better idea about the ships that were the center of the village, as well as let him take his time reviewing the weapons they were both packing.
The Earthers on the ships had not done any weapons test since they had made contact, but the Admiral knew that they still held different types of drills on the ships. That way the ship would still be combat ready if the need ever arose from the ashes of what remained of the Cylons. Saul had remarked that the Earthers did not know the term 'letting your guard down'. Bill thought maybe that was another thing that they could teach the average Colonial.
Adama was looking out the massive front window on the ships bridge, when Kelly walked up to his side without out making that much noise. They shook hands then went to the back of command section, where the translation computer was already set up and waiting on them to use for tonight's conference.
Kelly started off the meeting between the now complete four person meeting, now that the last person had arrived. "Good to see you again Admiral. Have you got any word back yet from your scouting and mining mission?"
The fact that some of the Colonial ships were gone was common knowledge to both groups of people. But when they were planning to return, was a very closely held secret of the Colonial Military. And the limited space watching capabilities of the Earthers made it even harder to gain the requested information on their own. Kelly was fishing, and even without the sly little smile on his face, Bill knew what he was doing. He fully understood why the attempt at fishing had been made.
"Right to the point okay, I can deal with that," thought Bill while he kept his face as bland as he could. "No, but they are not supposed to be back for another week or two. It they come back too early, then that would mean that they haven't found any raw material that we need. Or that they found Cylons lurking around close by. I'm just hoping that they've not found any Cylons or other dangers while looking around this nebula."
You wanted to get to point, so I will do the same Captain Kelly. Now let's see how you like being put on the spot. "What have your people decided?" He touched a copy of the image that had been drawn over a month ago. They were tacked to the back bulkhead at head height near where he was standing.
It was a different member of the three man leaderships group. It was the one that normally did not say much on military or similar matters. "It was not a unanimous decision, but a super majority did vote to heed the advice from the oracles. That is one of the main reasons we wanted to have this meeting tonight, Admiral. How will we go about it?"
Max was looking and studying the Colonial military leader, trying to read any hint that he might let slip. The votes had been cast, tabulated and reviewed twice already. Just under 89.7 percent of voters had decided to leave the planet. What were the ones that voted against it going to do, no one knew yet. Not even the ones that had voted no to joining the Colonials. Max, Bob and Kelly were starting to look at different ways to make sure that the entire population left with the Colonials when it was time.
Adama smiled a very political smile, one he copied from Roslin some time ago. He was very glad that they would be joining them on the trip to find their 13th Tribe's version of Earth. He was jumping for joy on the inside, but he wanted them to think that he had his doubts about them joining his people.
"Okay, I will start making some plans on our end. It seems obvious to Laura and me, that someone wants you to come on our little mission. And has figuratively pointed us in a specific direction that they would like use to take. We just need to find out if we can do what this hint seems to want us to."
Bill let a little air out of lungs in a sigh that carried to the others. This was going like he hoped and had talked to Laura about. Unfortunately he knew that down the road, and maybe not even that far down the road, they were going to have problems. And he was betting that they were not going to be from the small side of the problem tree when they came to smack them in the face. Then again, there were many stories among the Colonials about the kinds of trouble a mortal could find themselves in if they went against what the gods had been trying to push them to do in the first place. Bill was betting that he could play on those stories when the time was right.
Bill did not let any of those last thoughts show on his face, but it took some effort. "I was hoping that your people would vote in favor of joining us. I have already had some of my people look at my copy of the drawings. I wanted to see if it could be done, with what we have on hand."
He looked around the room. This was partly to buy some time, and partly to let the computer translate what he had just said to them. "They have not had much time to work things out, just from the two pages we have been given. At the same time, we have to get all of the other ships ready for another long trip, and we don't know what we will find while my people are digging into their guts. If you have any people who might be helpful in any way, let me know. Maybe a fresh set of eyes will see something on those sheets that we might have missed."
Bill Adama stopped talking, and took the time to look each person in the eyes, and his mouth turned into a deep frown after looking at them. "I don't know if we will be able to do what this drawings seem to suggest we need to do. Back home, we had a Design Bureau with thousands of very smart people and massive computer support who did this kind of stuff every day. And it still would have taken years to plan something like this out." Bill felt the stress building up as he told these people, about the magnitude of what was waiting for them.
He had to give himself a little shake and decided to change the topic, a little bit. "Speaking of new ideas, the Acting President asked me to pass a long a thank you for getting the first Hydroponics rooms up and running already. The training of the people on how to use them will be a huge help. I don't know if you know how much this is a game changer for our people. We were doing okay living on vat algae and what we had in storage. But it was not great, and it was starting to cause other health problems among our younger ones. That brings me back to the subject of trading. We are short on things to trade, so I dropped off one of my officers, a Captain Kara Thrace and her husband at your village. They are, well, working on ways to find trade items for us, and to get her used to people again. She was one the people who were held long term by the Cylons before your ground attack was able to spring them." He did not need to say more. The stories of what those few survivors among the long term prisoners had gone through, had been told and investigated by both groups.
That struck a cord with the three other men. They had read the very detailed reports that had come out of 'The Building' weeks ago. They had put three of the human form Cylons to death after they were proven to be directly involved in the horrendous crimes committed within that ugly prefab building.
The form of death had made use of the water, as befitting naval people like the Settlement's leadership. After the trial that was very public, they had taken the three Cylons out on a boat to the open ocean two days after the verdict had come out. They had been given a final meal that was the best the Settlement could provide.
They had tied thick green vine ropes to all three of the Cylons' legs with three hundred pounds of rock weight. Then they were pushed out of the boat in one group into the deep, cold, and dark water of the ocean. They had been about two miles past the protected bay's boundaries.
The Cylon named Kathy had been on the little boat. She was there to make sure that it was done according to the Earthers' laws as they were written down. To some of the Colonials' surprise, it had been her idea on the method of killing the Cylons while the trial was taking place. So very little could be pointed to as targeting or prisoner abuse by the other Cylons at the punishment being given out.
The human forms might have been part machine, but they would not go to waste. Something in the deep water would take care of the bodies. In time.
Adama took the silence going on around him, to keep to his notes that he wanted to cover. "How is the battlefield salvage business these days? I saw two of our old cargo trucks coming in, right after I landed. They looked to be overfull of metal that looked like it was used Cylon parts."
Kelly looked up from the glowing screen of the computer, and waved another man over to join the group in the meeting. It was a person that Adama had not met yet. If he had, he did not remember the man, and he had always been good at remembering faces. Kelly pointed to the man now beside him, but not blocking the large display screen that made the meeting possible. "This is Hugh Lloyd. He is in charge of our supplies, and reports straight to us. I would like it if he can make contact with your officers, to see if he can help with your supply issues. "Hugh would you please brief the Admiral on what we were talking about an hour ago?" As Kelly was talking, Max and Bob were looking at the Colonial.
Adama and Hugh shook hands and maintained eye contact. "Sir, it is nice to be able to put a face to your voice. The trucks you saw were the last ones we think will be coming back to us in fully loaded. We have cleaned up, and covered our tracks to, all of the major combat sites. When the Cylons do come back, they will have very little to go on beyond the odd clue we've missed here or there. We hope."
"We also think we picked off the last of the roaming Cylons in the forest, but there is no way to be a hundred percent sure of that. It will be nice to be able to use our limited hauling capabilities on other projects that need to be done just as badly." Hugh pulled out a small electronic device from an inner pocket, and looked quickly down at its small display.
With a fresh look at his notes Hugh pushed on with the reason that he had been waiting on the sides lines of this meeting until just now. "Besides the metal we have been collecting. We were able to find some large deposits of Oralloy and Lithium rich clay that you asked for. The clay was in an old river bed about four hundred miles from here, and we should have only few problems pulling it out of the ground. The hardest part will be making sure that we do it in such a way that we do not leave any markers for the Cylons to find after we're done getting what we need. The Oralloy ore is going to be harder to get our hands on, because it's under water. But that has the advantage of the mining operations being very easy to hide. We are going to need to do so much more to it compared to the clay, hiding it on land might have been impossible. We hope to start pulling out both ore types in a few days. How much of each type of ore will you need to make a viable weapon?" No one that had come from Earth knew how to make a nuclear weapon. Much less have any idea on how many tons or pounds of the different types of ore would be needed to make one.
Adama was glad he had not been caught flat footed with this information about finding the ores they needed. The captain of one of the grounded ships had heard and passed the word on. It had caused a bit of joy to stir in the older Adama's heart when the word reached him.
He did some quick math in his head. He had most of the numbers already done in case this came up today. In the back of his mind, he had been thinking about bringing up the subject just before the meeting was about to break up. Now Bill did not have to wait.
"It mostly depends on the grade of the ore you can get from the deposits you've found. I think that it took us about two thousand tons of average grade ore, to make a single one-ten kilogram warhead. That's what we usually use for one of our capital launched missiles. A weapon of that size will yield up to one-fifty Kilotons of force on detonation on a target. The warheads that we normally mount on the Raptors or Vipers are smaller weapons, but it's just as hard for us to make one of the smaller missiles as it does for a capital sized one. Now that we are out of usable missile casings we'll have to build them both from scratch now. I think going for the bigger punch is the way to go for right now. That is if you can get the ores to us."
Bill folded his arms and hands behind his back and set his feet shoulder width apart. Now for the hard part he thought to himself, as he got into his full commanders pose. "How will we handle the ore trade, it's not like we have a lot to offer right now? I would think that element 235 or 92 as you normally call it, is going to be expensive to recover, but not that much less than the clays that are needed for the yield boosters. Or do you want to hold off recovering the ores until my people have enough of what you need?"
Hugh looked at the other three men, but did not say anything as a reply to the Colonial Admiral. This was not his area of responsibility, so he kept his lips closed and let the bosses cover that little issue on trade and timing. He did not agree with the plan that had been discussed by the trio last night, but it was not his call. He knew that he was going to have to work with whatever came out of the meeting.
Kelly looked around the group in the meeting also, but it was purely for show. The three of them had spent hours and hours debating and trying to predict how this conversation would play out. Now it was time to see if they were right or not. If not, they had a few counter plans already worked out, but they were not as helpful for the people from Earth. "What we were thinking is that we would like to set up some kind of a trade in kind arrangement. If you say that you need two thousand tons of ore per weapon, maybe if we mine, say ten thousand tons of ore for you, then our people will get one weapon of our own of the same size that you are making for your defenses. How does that sound?" Kelly made sure not to smile as he made his pitch. That would have ruined what he was trying to work out.
Adama was not sure at first how he should handle this flow of events. They were talking about him giving up a weapon of mass destruction to people that he barely knew. Even if they had been very helpful and had been so for a while without much in the way of reservations.
He knew that the best way to judge people was to see how they acted when they were not looking for a reward. They had proven themselves already a number of times using that standard. That they were friendly, and they were planning on leaving this planet with his people in the future was also not in question. Then again, the last time he had given up a nuke to someone that he had thought knew how to take care of one, it had ended up blowing one of the civilian ships out of space. That was not a good track record, but you had to start somewhere.
"That seems a bit cheap for you to get a nuclear weapon out of the deal." Bill stopped talking mid-way through his thought, and made an odd face. What would having ten new anti-ship nuclear warhead missiles be worth to him? More importantly, how many civilians could be saved with those ship killers when the Cylons found them again?
It did not take Bill long to figure out the answer to those questions. He needed to cut one loophole that he had already seen in this offer. He did not want to link this deal to tons of ore, in case the ore was low quality or just useless rocks.
"If we can make ten warheads, then I will sign over one to your leadership. Any more than that one warhead and you're going to have to talk to Roslin. But that is only after I have been able to build the other nine weapons first. My people have the skill, equipment, and the energy to do the work. Yours will be supplying the raw material, but it's just rocks and mud without us to do the work to get the weapons ready. On the other hand, without you supplying the ores, we will not have the warheads we need." Bill was still speaking, and then stopped when he noticed the other people in the meeting looked happy with what he was saying.
Kelly had a big smile with lots of white teeth showing. Some would say he had a huge smile on his face. It was right then that the elder Adama realized he had unknowingly left meat on the bone in this little side negotiation. So he was not surprised when Kelly spoke. Still smiling at him. "If you make ten weapons, we will get one. The last one that is made. That's a deal, Admiral."
Now Kelly let the smile fall from his face as he filled in the Admiral on what they were going to do with the weapon. "Our plan is to see if it will mount on one of the few Long range missile weapons we have left. After that one weapon is turned over. We will deal with the civilian leadership of the Fleet on a longer ranged plan. My people understand that this will be on case by case basis. I think that is agreeable."
The other two men nodded their heads with matching grins. It the rest of the meeting went this well, it would be a great evening. The three men from Earth were thinking long term about getting these weapons. Of course it would be useful against Cylon Baseships when they left this planet. Beyond that however, it would also be something for when they found Earth. They wanted their small group of people to have the big dog of weapons once they got back to Rifts Earth. The three men knew without a doubt that the Collation States would be coming at them with everything they had.
Hugh could not help himself and smiled that this had gone so much better than he had thought it would or had even hopped to expect. It did prove that some of the Colonials would do just about anything to get what they thought they needed to fight for their survival against the Cylons.
Hugh thought that this was a good thing. Too many of the ones he had seen lately looked like abused animals. "Well that is one thing down, Admiral. I'm glad you brought up trade between our people. We have been working on bring a third armor production plant on line. I have a list of parts, which your ships might be able to make us so that we can build the thing. That third plant will speed up our production to around twenty sheets of the four foot by four foot by one-eighth inch armor sheets on average per day." Hugh did not consider himself a smart man, only average one in the intelligence. But he could see the gears turn in the Colonial Admiral's eyes. As clear as day as he read the computer screen.
Hugh handed over an off white folder which held about thirty sheets of paper inside it. "I would not get my hopes up, Sir. What we need to be made for us are standard items that we are running short of for the whole Settlement. They start with screws, nuts, bolts, bearings and various mounting plates. So there is nothing in there that we would call proprietary technology or anything like that. At least not yet. Most of the items in there are things we would like to ask you to make for us. After filling our orders for the plant, of course. They should sell very well to the Settlement as a whole. They also should be very easy for your ships to turn out, without delaying production of spare parts for the other ships by any measurable amount."
Adama took the rectangle folder and opened it to reveal the white pages within. It was still strange not to have the cut corner look of Colonial stock, but that was just a small aesthetic after all. He slowly flipped through the pages filled with engineering diagrams and notes.
There did not seem to be anything special on those pages that he flipped through. The other man had been right. When they first asked about supply parts to help build up their armor production, Bill had thought about finally being able see how they did the magic that they did with their armor plate. Something the Colonials could possibly copy for their own use. These were terribly mundane in comparison.
When he had gone through each page he nodded to the man. "I don't see anything that might have a technical hurdle in production. It was nice that you wrote them out in Caprican. Most of my people can only say a simple greeting in your tongue, if that. If you could provide physical samples as well so we can verify that the specifications translate properly through the language barrier, that would be the best."
The idea of selling simple types of mounting hardware had not occurred to anyone on his staff. The monster called 'assumption' had struck the Colonials again. He could not count how many times he had had to send requests to the machine shops for the same types of items for his own ship. You just don't think about how many nails it takes to build a home, or how many bolts get stripped to unusability every day. Adama did not know this, but there is a reason that nails are measured in a term called a penny in the United States. And a Penny was also used as a measure of value.
Hugh nodded back to the Colonial. "I'm not surprised. We've tried to limit the different sizes and styles that we use ourselves after we started to run short of those items. We also have the first load of Cylon and Colonial weapons along with the ballistic ammunition that work with them. All ready for pickup whenever you're ready for them. Recovered missiles have been in shorter supply than we had expected, so I cannot give you a time to pick those up just yet."
Hugh smiled and held out his right hand. This was the signal that he was done with his planned part of the meeting. "I look forward to doing more business with you or your representatives later." Hugh was thinking that if he could finally deal with someone that was not one of the key power players, he might be able to move things along a lot faster than they had been moving of late. After all the Fleet Admiral only had so many hours to work with in a day that he could devote to all the things under his command. Someone with less rank might be able to speed more time working on the issue he needed to complete to help the people he worked for.
The hands were shook between the two men. From the tone he had heard coming from Hugh, Bill did not think later was going to be too much farther down the road. It was just a feeling he was getting from the rest of the men standing around the table. Bill was thinking that it was good thing that he was getting support from these people and his own to get things working faster. Adama had to fight down a wry smile. It was a strange feeling to not have everything go through him first before they could get done.
Captain Kelly thanked Hugh, but the Head of the Supply Department did not walk far from the table after being thanked. This reinforced the hunch that was in the back of the Colonial's mind. Captain Kelly then went back to talking to the Admiral, and the rest of the group in this meeting. "Now, for the next point of business we need to cover tonight. When we had our first meeting with you, we said that we have some legal issues and concerns. One, we have a set dogma about certain freedoms for our people to include freedom of religion. Do you and the rest of the Colonial leadership have a way to guarantee that we will not be absorbed. And our belief systems or legal system will not be flushed out an airlock after we join your group?" It had not taken long for the Colonial legal penalty for what they called heresy to make the rounds of the Settlement. It also had not taken long for it to be compared to something out of a nightmare.
Adams looked at them and he could not stop the poleaxed looked showing on his face. This was a 180 degree change in the flow of the meeting, and not one he ever suspected would come up tonight. "I have not put much time into thinking about that subject Captain Kelly. But I'm betting you all have come up with something on that matter already that you can work with. So why don't you lay it out on the table and let's all have a look at it?"
"I do think that you need to bring this up with the Acting President, not me. This is more her area of operation. I handle the Military side of things. The internal workings of which I'm sure of." Adama let a thin smile come to his face, but it did not take a lot of political savvy to know that it was not a real look. He was just trying to fight his way out of a corner, that he had just taken a bite out of his butt.
The three Earthers nodded to the elder Adama, but Captain Kelly pointed to the drawing. "We have a plan or two, but we wanted to show you something first. We wanted to see if this was a good place to start, or if you had any other suggestions." What Kelly was pointing at were copies of the two sheets of line drawings now on display on the table top. Bill had no idea who had put the table there, but it had not been there a few minutes before. "You can see that basically the hulls of both ships of our large ships have been somehow grafted on to one of your Battlestar warships. Why don't we use the same system that has worked out so far on the ground? Your laws work on your ships, but on the grafted parts that are made up of Bob's and mine ships. Our laws are the ones enforced, and by our people." Kelly licked his lips, and tried to hide that this was one of the few times that he was very uncomfortable with what he had pitched in an upper level meeting.
Kelly could feel his co-leaders beside him and for some reason it felt better. "If your military is like any I have dealt with on my planet, you are going to bring up that split commands fail in combat. It is one of the golden rules of command where we come from. We have all agreed that you're the senor warship commander. And all of the weapons on our ships would be linked to your command, and be directed as such by your CIC. But the rules and laws of the people living in that area would be what we have always thought of as being normal. Those areas will also be represented by a governing body of their choosing that also lives and works in that area that is under 'Earther control' for lack of a better term."
Adama was trying to think on his feet, and had already come to one conclusion. The hard part would be whether he was going to be able to communicate it. They had just made a few good points, and ones that he had not thought of. This was something that he was not used to having to do. He hated to deal with politics of any sort at any time. But it seemed like he had or been having to do that more and more. Ever since he had gathered what was left of the Colonial ships at Ragnar Anchorage, and got them to follow him away from Colonial space looking for Earth and the Thirteenth Tribe. "I can see where your coming from with most of those issues. This is again, more of a political item than a military one. If you have an idea written down, I will pass it along to our Acting President, as an official request. Other than that I think it might work, but I also think that this needs to be closely studied." Bill made a face then locked eyes with Kelly. He wanted to let these people know that he was taking what they had said seriously. "I will remember what your people did for my people, when you did not have to. You could have just stayed hidden, and no one would have known you were here."
The three men nodded, and Captain Kelly began to speak again. This time he was leaning a little more forward than he had been before. It was a more predatory pose, and Adama did not think that it was an unplanned maneuver on Kelly's part. They wanted something big, and this ship's captain was not sure they were going to get it without a lot of horse trading.
"That is a good place to start. At least something is on the table from a starting point to be marked out. Now about defenses, we have quite a bit of combat power, which is higher tech than your used to having to deal with. You have never had to plan how to use it or how to plan to defend against it. We want to keep control of most of it." Kelly gave Bill a sly and knowing smile. "We know that you're trying to work on it in the dark. By the way, how is that modified Viper with three twin lasers mounted in place of your KEW's working out for your people?" Kelly had just thrown a thick beef steak on the table for the Colonial to chew on.
Bill made his face go very still and he kept his mouth from opening up. "Well Frak, so much for keeping that a bit secret for a while longer" thought Adama. We told them that we were going to be working on integrated some of their technology into our weapons. But Frak, how did they find out so much about it already. "We are still working on plans, and some rough ideas. We have had other issues that have a higher priority than those that projects. So it has not moved much past a few bull sessions and notes on scrap paper. In any case, the Pegasus has the only Colonial Viper production capabilities that we know about that is still in working condition. So until they get back, we are just kicking around ideas and not really working on it that hard."
Bill stopped talking again, and looked over the rim of his glasses at the Earther across from him. "From what I'm getting from your line of thought, are you offering to help us with that project?"
"Now that was a good way to put the ball back in their court," thought Adama. As he looked around the table, the looks on the other men's faces led the older Adama to think that they were expecting the exact response he had just given them. "Frak, I fell into it again. I have to get better at countering them. It must be because I'm getting older. Then again, it might because of the different language we have to deal with." These were the rapid fire thoughts that went through Bill's mind at the speed of light.
Kelly was still leaning forward over the low table, and had a smile on his face, one that the Elder Adama was not too sure if it was supposed to be friendly or not. "Let's put that question on the side, for right now. If or when we leave this rock, we can think about adding new classes of weapons into your arsenal. I think we can work out some deals that might address that question with a better focus. What we were thinking about right now is, what we feel needs to be done. It's that most of our combat equipment is supposed to be space rate. At least that is according to the sales literature we have recovered from some of those shipping containers. We say supposed to, because none of us has seen it done before. And we don't know what might come up, if they were in a space combat environment and had to use our weapons to defend the fleet. Also what we would like to know what the cost would be to us to put say five or six of our people, into one of your ongoing Viper and Raptor training classes you have been running?"
Of all the things that might have come up that was not anywhere on the list in Adama's mind. Before he could open his mouth to say a word, he was thinking. "Now why would they want to send someone to learn how to fly a space fighter like a Viper?"
Bill felt the corner of one side of his mouth droop a little. "I would have to get back to you on the cost, but maybe that would help everyone with the language problems that are going to come up more often. I can see now why, you're wanting to ramp up your production of armor plates. Flight schools are not cheap, even the boot strapped ones we have set back up to replace our losses. The big question now, is what are you going to do with the pilots after they're trained on Vipers or Raptors?"
Bill wanted to do a little fishing to see what they might be thinking about with this flight school idea. "If they're in my units they fall under my orders and Colonial Laws, even off duty. We had problems that some of the other Colonies had odd laws compared to the rules that the Military was supposed to be following. We learned that there had to be only one set of laws that can be enforced in the military. At least for active duty personnel. reservists would only fall under those laws when they're recalled for a stint of active duty." He was looking at each of the now four individuals from Earth. One at time, with the best 'don't frak with me' look that he could make. It was an impressive look, but his audience was used to that kind of thing and it had no visible effect on them that Adama could see.
It had very little effect on Kelly mentally, much less physically. It did have some effect on the ship's commander. But not like it would have on a person, who had not used that very same look for decades. And he had had to use it against not only humans either. It was more of a score board for Kelly to match against the Colonial's score.
"If anyone joins the Colonial military, then they belong to the Colonial military unit until their tour of duty is over." Kelly had a thin lip line as he continued to speak his mind. "Just like the way it was done back home. What we are thinking regarding those Viper and Raptor pilots, is that it would be nice to have a reusable power projection device that can go farther out than my long ranged missiles or cannons can reach. And we know that those are space rated as well as can operate in a planet's atmosphere. Right now, we don't think most of our warfighting capability will be able to range more than a few tens to hundreds of miles away from our hulls. Even if they work as they are advertised to do in real life. You brought up Viper production capabilities just now. I'm sure you're not surprised that we have been told about that before our first meeting. We think that if we traded for a few of them, we could expect to be able to maintain them out of our own coffers. For now those classes, would fill some of the requirements that we see coming down the line."
Kelly had been voted on to be the main spokesmen, but none of them were sure what would happen next. At least not after this topic had been brought up to the Colonial military commander. Adama, for his part, was not sure what way he was going to go after they dropped that bomb on him. "Well, that is why I get paid the big cubits." He had no idea that he was drumming his fingers on the wooden table top as he mentally looked at the different angles of the idea. He needed to buy some time, and for the second time in this meeting he wished that Roslin was with him today. She would have a better idea of what would happen when the Colonial political leaders heard about this idea. He held up his hands in a 'please wait' gesture that was surprisingly common to both group of humans.
When he was ready, Bill's mind let his mouth work again. And his fingers stopped moving mid drumming. "Okay let's slow this down a little, if you please. I already agreed to give up one nuclear weapon, but that is if you help me make nine of the same weapons for us. It's worth the risk to me. If we don't make the total estimated numbers? I still get the weapons I need, and I can't exactly get them from any frakking place else. Now you're talking about me selling or trading you some Vipers and Raptors after we get you trained up to use those craft. This is a completely different Pyramid game to me. Those craft cost between three and six hundred million cubits each, fresh off the factory lines for the Colonial Fleet buying them in bulk. Even the old museum piece Mark Twos, which we had on my ship, they cost almost a hundred million cubits each. Back when they were new. If you were rebuilding one into a fly worthy condition it could cost a lot more than that."
"We can make a few new Mark Seven Vipers, and the spare parts to support them in a week. If we have the raw material, and we don't need that many replacement parts for the rest of the Viper fleet, we could double the rate of production." Bill made a face and his lips turned into a deep frown. "But any new Raptors? All we have now are all the Raptors we are going to have ever again. I will find it hard to release the few of those craft I have left. After things settle down some, and I have the assets free from other tasks. I'm actually going to go look around what is left of those wrecked Baseships. We know that the Cylons have used captured Colonial craft before. I'm hoping we can luck out and find a few wrecks. We'll need any spare part for those craft I can find under any handy rock."
Kelly made a sour face. Those were all good points, and he had to agree with what the Colonial commander had said. "I understand where you're coming from. After all, it's not like we will be getting any more sets of powered body armor, or any other replacement weapons and parts for that matter. We are in the same boat as you are Admiral." That was a little dig on the Colonials, and Kelly knew it was. The Settlement had given or sold weapons and body armor to the Colonials. Even knowing that they would most likely never be able to get fresh sets to replace what was sold or lost in battle with the Cylons.
The verbal hit was not lost on the Admiral, but he did not react to the point being made against him. Kelly went on talking. Ignoring the barb he had just given to the Colonial. "We have other skills and equipment to offer, besides our warfighting items that you and your people have already seen in use. We have construction equipment, which I doubt you have when you left your home systems." He paused this next bit was going to be a little touchy. "Don't take this the wrong way, Admiral. What we offered earlier to your people, we did it because it was the right thing to do. Now that I have covered my butt politically, how is your President doing after her treatment?" One of the things that had come up before the first year on this planet was over for Kelly and the rest of the people carried by the Lucky Find, had been the issue of doctor-patient confidentiality between one party and a second non family member.
Adama had to fight the urge to hit the man across the table as his first instinct. He had to fight real hard not to, but he did have a few points. The Earthers needed to show that they had medical skills, which his fleet was in very short supply of. Short supply not only in terms of specially trained personnel, but also some very unique medical equipment that these people had access to. That last thought let the older Adama center himself, and calm down at being asked such a personnel question. "She is doing very well thank you. She had completed the final treatments last week. I understand that your people would like to see her every few months, to make sure she remains in remission from the cancer. They said that if it or another one of the same class comes back, the next round of treatments will be easier on her. Since it will not have had as much time to expand into her body unchecked by medication."
Kelly nodded and let out breath he had been holding, with a soft audible sigh. For a few seconds, it looked like the Admiral was going to try to take a swing at him or something. "It is in my experience that Medical people are always in short supply and good ones even more so. We were lucky in that we had a few extra, when we got here. And they have trained a few more of our people while we were in hiding. But it makes the point that we can help in those two areas also. That is until the ratio of healing skills and number of medically trained personnel level off between our people. Or we run out of our advanced medication, the devices break, and cannot be fixed again. With your support ships, I hope that the last condition is not going to happen for a while down the road." Kelly had just let the Colonial know that the Earthers were going to share two new types of knowledge with his people.
Kelly leaned back away from the table, and gave a soft smile. He wanted to give the hint that their people were going to need stuff to fix the Earth made equipment. Most of it had been in use for years now. It would start to wear out even faster with the heavier work load about to be placed on them.
"Now that that one sore spot is cleared up." There was now a twinkle in Kelly's eyes and the tone he had just used had caused Max to roll his eyes. "We have a few other items, which we have not covered in the few trade talks we have had to date. There are some things that you need to know about those twenty armor plates your supply person bought on the market auction a few days ago."
Adama looked around the group, and noticed that they all had knowing smiles, and they did not look mad about the Colonials having bought those plates. The skin on the back of Bill's neck started to itch. This was almost as bad as having to deal with Tom Zarek. Bill could not see any trap, so he went with honesty. "We were told that it was on open sale, and anyone who wanted to bid on them could do so as long as they had the money at the close of bidding. Was there some misunderstanding of some kind in this auction?" Now Bill was sweating on the inside, but he kept his voice calm. He was deciding how hard he was going to fight to keep those armor plates that they needed so bad.
Hugh stepped forward again to a more central spot in the little group of leaders again. He could not tell if the Colonial was stressed or not. He just seemed to be standing there like a human shaped wall made of the best armor plate. "Well, what we need to know from your point of view is what did you think about them? I take it you have noticed that we have not put any more of that stuff on the market for sale after your last high bid. Why do you think that was? You have to have found out that we are making as much armor as we can. And now you know that we are looking to add a third shop to make even more on a daily basis." Hugh had not wanted to stop the sales, but he had been ordered by Max to stop any more public sales until after this meeting.
"What was this guy fishing for? Well one way to find out," thought Bill. He quickly pushed away the idea of not telling the whole truth to these people. It seemed like they really wanted to know what he thought about those expensive slabs of flat armor plate. "We tested and then retested, those armor plates on my Flagship. I had my best people doing the evaluations and reviews. They were hands down better than anything I had ever heard about in testing from the R and D labs. Or for that matter even in defense periodicals from before the war started. It's roughly as good as what we put on our latest generation Battlestars like the Pegasus, but we've never been able to make it feasible for infantry or even small craft scale applications. Normally I would ask our only major scientific brain in the fleet, Baltar, if he had heard of anything like them before. But that is not an option at this time." Adama would rather kiss a Cylon's butt, than talk to that person again. He did not doubt that these Earthers knew some of the stories come out of the Refugee camp about him.
Bill let his face slip some, and in doing so. It let the other people in the room know that the Colonial did not know what was going on with this line of questioning. Bill did not notice the slip, and he needed to clear the thoughts out of his head about Baltar, and kept talking. "We tested them side by side with some Raider and Centurion hulks that we on board. It was as good as the Cylons stuff, or even better because it was thinner and massed less for a given area of coverage. Just as you and your people had advertised it would be."
Bill gave a deep frown to the group in the meeting. Then let them know why he had not asked that man. He later would tell Laura that he did not know why he told them about his feelings regarding the man. "I can't get near that frakker, at least until I'm sure I won't choke him to death with my bare hands. And yes, I and my staff have been wondering why you have not put anymore of the armor plates up for sale after the last auction. The betting pool has it, that you're setting it aside to stockpile, or you are using it to replace damaged armor from all the fighting against the Cylons." Bill stopped talking and quickly looked around the table. "So are you going to tell me? So I can close the pool, and make a lot of people very unhappy for the next few weeks?" Bill had not noticed that absence of new sales, until it had been brought up to him by Felix.
Before Bill could say more, a voice brought him back to the meeting. "I have one more question for you Admiral, before we get to that." This came again from Captain Kelly, and he had another sly smile on his face. "Did you notice that no one was bidding against you for those plates? Well a few were trying to get a deal on it at first. But once it went to a certain level, only the other Colonials were bidding against you to get to take them home." There had been eight different Colonial groups that had been identified by Major Weston as wanting to get those plates. This was not going to be told the Admiral. If he wanted to know something like that, he was going to have to have his people dig for it all on their own.
Adama had to send his brain back to three weeks ago for the event these people were so interested in. And yes, Kelly was right about who had been bidding in the small crowd. As each plate was put up for sale, the price was very low to start with. And when it reached certain points the bidders were fewer and fewer, and all Colonials in the end. "Now that you mention it, yes I did notice a few other ship captains bidding. Why was that?" Bill was trying to work the angles and even he was coming up blank, but he could tell that he was still missing something that was possibly very important.
Kelly tried not to smile any bigger than he already was, but he could not help it. "That run was a test production run of one of our machines that had just been repaired. It was not up to spec for what we are used to using, so it was set aside. They have fixed the problems, and we are now using the improved stuff for all of the warmachines that were brought in for repair. We made sure to fix them back up to fully operational status, before we packed them back down again. That did take much of the stock we had on hand. But the rate of returning equipment in need of repair is pretty steady. The bottleneck had been qualified repair teams to do the work to the standard we expect. So yes we have been using a lot of what we had been making to repair battle damage, and replacing our stockpile back to what it was when we got to this planet."
Hugh now jumped in with his own hands behind his back and a seriously look on his face. He was always that way when he was talking about what he called real numbers. Those were normally numbers that started at a million and went a lot higher. "You said that a newly built Mark Seven Viper and Raptors run between 300 and 600 million cubits when you were back on your home planets. How much would it cost to rearmor one of your Battlestars in something that tough, or just normally for that matter? Now I'm not talking about being able to do something like that all at once. Frankly, I don't know even if Northern Gun or the CS produces that much armor in a year. Much less using only the two almost three handmade machines, we have here on this whole planet." He looked around the group again and was trying to read their faces.
Adama had a tight smile and was about to vibrate out of his boots. It was only by some miracle that he was not hyperventilating. "I have no ideahow much it would cost to put a whole armored belt on a Battlestar, and neither would anyone else left alive in the fleet. I think that it would cost maybe in the tens of Billions of cubits to replace the armor belt on a Mercury class Battlestar. I read about it once, which was why they took most of the Old Girls armor off of her when she was on her way to the museum. It was to reuse it on other ships, instead of buying a new stock of the stuff. How would you want to do this? That is if you could make enough armor plate to do the job?" In Bill's mind's eye, he was seeing all of those exposed ribs of his ship. He knew how His old girl should look with all of the armor she was supposed to have on her old hull. Seeing that way her again would be amazing to his old eyes.
Kelly smiled with just a little of his teeth showing as the read the screen before looking back to the Colonial. "Now this is just a rough plan which we have worked on. When we start selling the armor again, you bid on it. But you can only buy up to ninety percent of what is for sale on any given day. That information will be posted at Warehouse One for everyone to know. I know you could use it all, but others need it also. If you buy it all up then there will be issues, down the road. We have seen it happen before. We will be making two grades of armor. The top grade takes longer and uses a lot more resource, but is better. The second grade will be just like what you have bought already, and should be cheaper. What you bid on is of no concern to us." Kelly stopped talking and gave a head to Hugh to finish up with all of the numbers.
Hugh was ready and pulled out a small cut sheet of paper with hand written notes on it. "We will need to have thirty percent of the end bid price to be paid out as is normal for a public auction. The rest of the balance will go into an account which we will draw on to pay for the first batch of pilot trainees from among our people. Then we need to come up with a plan on how to use the funds in those accounts. We were thinking that you come up with a number first for an older Mark II Viper, and then a new built Mark VII Viper and a Raptor. We don't need the numbers now. We can work that out later but I would like it before the next armor sale goes off. When you have some hard numbers to throw at us, please don't be greedy. Because if the price is too high, then we will call the whole deal off."
Adama nodded and pulled out a little paper note book from a jacket pocket and made some notes in. "I think, that would be a good idea." He gave a smile, but he was looking down at this paper note pad and no one could see it that well. "If I had known what we were going to cover in this meeting, I would have given Starbuck a different task." The smile came off of his face as he thought about her, then again maybe not. "Now I have a request, which I was also asked to bring up tonight. It would seem that the available amount of leather is still in short supply. I have been asked to see if you will increase the hunting of the local large sharks to increase the supply of hides in the markets. The leather is needed to start replacing some of the worse worn clothing among my people, and a few other uses in the fleet." Bill did not want to cover how some of it was needed for blankets, beds, and even patching chairs.
This was not the first time the three Earth leaders had heard this particular request. One or the other of the Triumvirates had been getting the same message twice a day, every day for almost a month now from some Colonial who thought he had political power. It was now an official request, and needed to be addressed officially by them. Max took this one to give Kelly a break from the lime light, and the focus of the Colonial Admiral. "Admiral we have taken a lot of larger animals from the local area waters already in a very short amount of time. We have to manage what is taken, so we don't wipe out a part of the local food chain for a short term gain. We are slowly increasing the amount of fish we are harvesting from the sea. The new fishing locations are farther out than we have been using for the last few years. They are in the bay and outside of the bay, and let's not forget that they have to avoid every place we have hidden one of your ships."
Max stopped talking and when Adama did not seem to have a question just yet, he started speaking again. "Before you bring up the need to stockpile food and stuff, we are. Only about seventy-five percent of the food being caught is being sold on the open market. We have been buying it up on the dock, and processing it for long term storage. And by us, I'm talking about the little government here and paid for by taxes from our people. That goes for food as well as the leather that is coming into the dock off of those boats. We have to have jobs for people while we are on the trip coming up. We were thinking, so why not tanning and cloth manufacturing? If this is not a viable plan please let us know! We only have a few people that have those skills to turn items like that into clothing of high quality. We think that it would be another skill that needs to be passed around between our people."
Adama smiled to himself, these people were on the ball. "They had tried to cover as many bases as they could. Even with the limited knowledge base on space travel, they were very sharp. And I bet that some of the more hide bound of my people will be in for a few rude surprise if they ever underestimated them." Bill had already heard people, and had read a few reports. It was about how backward they must be, if they did not have proper Vipers or even know about space travel. "I will pass along that you have started increasing the quota of fish harvesting, but it is expected to take a few weeks for the effect to be felt for the average person. I think we all should keep the fact that you're stockpiling some items quiet for now. I will limit that information to the President and some of her selected staff. I agree about keeping some things around for people to work on while we are travelling. We have found out that when people are bored, they have too much time on their hands to cause trouble. Having something to do, or maybe as important something new to learn will be a good thing." As Bill was talking imagined and replayed in his mind several events that were centered around Tom Zarek while on the run from the Cylons. Now maybe this time the recruiting grounds will not be so fertile for him to pull his crop of troublemakers.
Kelly looked back at Adama and this time his face was blank as a sheet of paper. "That is a good no information answer. Will your people be upset when they find out about the stockpiling of supplies, and that you knew about it?" Kelly wanted to reward the openness the Admiral was showing them. "I let you know that we knew about your people trying to modify a Viper and a Raptor with our weapons tech. I bet you have been wondering what we have been working on in our own back rooms?"
Now Kelly smiled, Adama and had a blank card player's expression on his face wondering what was about to be dropped on his lap. Kelly met it, with his own level gaze. "We've decided to let you know that we've collected a few wrecked Cylon Raiders and Heavy Raiders during the conflict with the Cylons. We have been taking them apart to see what makes them tick. We have also even been getting some help from a few of the Cylons POW's we collected along the way. We are not getting help from all of them, only a few which seem to truly want to help us. What they are telling us, is that their jump drives are faster, smaller, use less fuel per jump or at 'idle', and are longer ranged than any of yours on a class for class basis. When things calm down some, would you like to send some of your jump engineering people to be on the research teams we are already running?
Adama could not stop his eyebrows from flying almost off the top of his head, and his voice came out a bit louder than he had wanted it to. "You have working Cylon jumpdrives!" The Colonials had been trying to do the same thing, since Starbuck had brought that one Raider on board during one of her signature displays of derring-do. So far they have not had much luck knowing if one of those Cylon drives was good, much less start working on finding out how exactly the performance was different from one of their own. It would seem that they had some kind of safety system that activated the first time it detects a non Cylon who tries to access it in any way.
"Well that hit a nerve or something." Thought Kelly but this time he kept his face plain to hide some information. "Well that tells me a lot right off of the bat, Admiral. That you're focused in on the jump drives, and not that we have Cylons willing to work with us. We feel the same way, about the project."
Now Adama now made a face, like he had been kicked hard by a Centurion in the old family jewels. "I'm not like a lot of Colonials. As a matter of fact the reason we told Athena her child had died at birth. Was because we did not know what some other frakking crazy person might do to her and the little one. It was not like we could put them under twenty-four hour guard with two or three armed marines." His voice softened, but he kept the same volume. "If you have the chance, could you pass along to Helo and Athena something for me? It is that I will welcome their family back with opened arms, whenever they want."
Bill let his eyes focused against the far wall behind the group of Earthers about head height, and changed the subject a little. "That would give you one qualified pilot each for both a Viper and a Raptor already without the need for any training. Helo was trained as a fully qualified ECO, so he could do double duty in that position. They could help pick who you send to the training schools. They know what to look for in a candidate pilot, and they could even set up some pre-classes. That would set you up, so that you could have lot better prepared student. At lease better prepared than what I can do at the start of the classes."
"We will pass your message along as soon as we are done tonight. I think they well be glad that it came from you. Two groups not getting alone perfectly, but having to work together is not a new problem for the human race. We have some ideas we can talk about later that might smooth some things over. But they will only work if we have trust at our level, at least to start with." Kelly was talking, but the other three men were nodding in agreement at the words that were coming out of his mouth in a steady even tone.
Adama just nodded and checked his notes to be ready for the next topic. The meeting would be going on another hour. Amazingly it only ran a half an hour longer than had been planned for in the first place. But what Bill was looking forward to, was going to be at the very end of the meeting if he had to place a bet. That was the tour of the weapons mounted on each of the ships, and detailed information on their capabilities that he was going to be receiving. The weapons tour was to be followed by a quick meal, before he headed back to his ship sometime around local midnight.