Author's note: Hello, everyone. This is the first chapter of a spin-off from the other story I'm writing. This story picks up when the Terrans in my version of the Stargate Universe discover the existence of the Twelve Colonies and the Cylons in a secluded region of the Milky Way Galaxy, and decide to meddle in their affairs. From that point on this story will exclusively be related to events regarding the Colonials, while my other tale continues with the other problems the Terrans have to deal with.

Well, enough talk. Here it comes.

Thanks to my beta, and I hope you'll like this story too.

Updated on 6/5/2019


The Cylons were created by man.

They were created to make life easier on the Twelve Colonies.

And then the day came when the Cylons decided to kill their masters.

After a long and bloody struggle, an armistice was declared. The Cylons left for another world to call their own.

A remote space station was built...

...where Cylon and Human could meet and maintain diplomatic relations.

Every year, the Colonials sent an officer.

The Cylons sent no one.

No one has seen or heard from the Cylons in over forty years.

On a remote space station, created with the sole purpose of meeting with the Cylons once every year, a man was slowly nodding off to sleep. Suddenly, the doors opened, and two metallic Cylons walked in, flanking the doorway. The man froze in his chair. This was something that had never happened.

A blonde woman in a red suit entered the room, slowly walking down the hallway towards him. Reaching the table in front of the man, she sat on it, looking at the man that she thought by now must be frightened as hell. The woman leaned against his side of the table, bending over him.

"Are you alive?" Six asked.

The man felt confused. A strange question to ask at such a moment, but then he thought about it and came to the conclusion that it didn't matter. He knew he was going to die today.

And he didn't much care either. "Lady, I haven't felt alive in twenty years!"

Six was slightly taken aback by the man's brief reply, "Why not?"

"Are you blind? Look what I do for a living? If I'm not on this frakking space station waiting for you to show up - something, year after year, you were never interested in doing - then I'm in some even smaller office, doing the most boring job in the Twelve Colonies. My wife left me, and my only daughter hasn't spoken to me in years! My only brother, the only man that I could talk to, had an accident last year. He barely survived and lost both legs, and the only thing he now does is to sit at home all day and drink…"

Six was stunned. She didn't think this man would tell her his life story, and especially not one so depressing. It also seemed that he wasn't about to stop there.

"…oh, and not to mention the two mortgages I have to pay if I want to keep the house. And I'm not even living in that house anymore! My wife got it in the divorce-

'Where the frak are those missiles!' Six thought.

Moments later, the first missile impacted the station. "Thank God!" Six said, relieved.

"…I wish at least my daughter would speak to me, you know. But her mother turned her against me. That witch!"

"You never stop, do you?" Six asked, annoyed.

"Stop what?"

Six woke up in the resurrection tub, immediately noticing Three and another Six standing next to her.

"Calm down. Everything is going to be fine."

"Everything is not frakking fine! Next time one of you two is going to a space station in the middle of nowhere to talk to a human. Why did I have to go to that station if we were going to blow it up anyway?"

"One wanted it."

"Then next time he's going to be the one to go instead of me!"

Inside the Galactica, located in the Helios Alpha system, Starbuck was jogging through the corridors. She passed several people before approaching a large tour group. "Make a hole!"

The tour group quickly moved out of the way, allowing her to run through the middle while the tour guide was explaining the inner workings of the ship. "As I was saying, form follows function. Now, nowhere is this axiom of design more readily apparent than onboard the worlds famous Battlestar Galactica. This ship, the last of her kind still in service, was constructed over fifty years ago in the early days of the Cylon War. Now, originally there were twelve battlestars, each representing one of Kobol's Twelve Colonies. Galactica represented Caprica and was first commanded by Commander Dash…"

Further down the corridor, Adama was rehearsing a speech he was preparing, "The Cylon War is long over, yet we must not forget the reasons why-"

"Commander Adama, if I may?" Captain Kelly asked as he almost bumped into Adama.


"I just wanted to say what a pleasure it's been serving with you in your command, sir."

"Captain Kelly. It's been my honor. Good luck in your next assignment," Adama said, shaking the man's hand.

"Thank you, sir," the man said before moving on with his duties.

Adama began again reading his speech. "The Cylon War is long over, yet we must not forget-"

"Morning, Sir," Starbuck saluted as she jogged next to Adama.

"Good morning, Starbuck. What do you hear?"

"Nothing but the rain."

"Grab your gun and bring in the cat."

Starbuck pointed her index as if it was a gun, firing three shots. She then continued with her jogging.

Adama continued his walk, again stopped by more crewmembers talking.

"Let's go, guys. Chief's gonna have our ass," tech Prosna said.

"Yeah, well, you're the one who was supposed to wrap that yesterday," Cally replied.

"Shh, it's the old man," Prosna replied as he noticed Adama.

"Too late. What's up?" Adama stopped having heard them talking.

"Nothing, sir. Just another leak in that frakking window. Pardon me, sir," another tech said while saluting the CO.

"It's supposed to be a battlestar, not a museum. Sorry for saying so, sir," Prosna added.

"I couldn't agree with you more. Be careful out there, all right?" Adama said moving further to the CIC, again rehearsing his speech. "The Cylon War is long over, yet we cannot forget the reasons why-"

"Morning, sir," Lt. Gaeta said to his CO.

"Good morning," Adama replied, once again stopping from reading his speech.

"Comm. traffic from the mid-watch," Gaeta said

"Hmm. Anything interesting?" Adama asked.

"Uhh, mostly housekeeping. Ah, there was one odd message, the one that we were copied on from fleet headquarters there, sir. Courier officer's overdue coming back from Armistice Station. They've asked for a full status report on all FTL capable ships, just in case they need someone to jump out there today, see if his ship is having any mechanical problems."

"I think we're a little bit busy today, wouldn't you say so, Lieutenant?"

"Yes, sir."

"I'm glad we agree."

"And may I take this opportunity to say that it's been both a pleasure and an honor to serve under you these past three years."

"It's my honor, Lt. Gaeta," Adama said, both saluting.

Gaeta moved out into the hallway while Adama continued to rehearse his speech, yet again.

As Gaeta moved through the corridor, he noticed Colonel Tigh leaning against a wall with a cup in his hand. He was more than sure there wasn't just coffee in the cup, "Colonel?"

The Colonel saluted absentmindedly, before moving on. Mere seconds later, he bumped into the tour guide.

"You'll see things here that look odd, even antiquated." The tour guide said before noticing the colonel. "Hello."

Tigh walked past him without saying anything. The tour guide continued with his tour's speech. "Uh, antiquated to modern eyes, like phones with cords, awkward manual valves, computers that, well, are barely deserving of the name. It was all designed to operate against an enemy who could infiltrate and disrupt even the most basic computer systems. Galactica is a reminder of a time when we were so frightened by our enemies that we literally looked backward for protection…"

In the meantime, Adama had walked down a flight of stairs to the hangar. "Good morning."

Chief Tyrol turned around and saluted the CO.

"Hey, Chief. At ease," Adama said.

"This way," the Chief said, gesturing for Adama to follow.

Adama began moving as he saw a Viper Mark II. "Mark II; haven't seen one of these in about twenty years."

"If the commander will take a closer look," The Chief said to the CO.

Adama looked more intently at the ship. The side of the ship read: Lt. William Adama, "Husker."

Adama laughed. "Oh, my gods. Where did you find her?"

"Rusting out in a salvage yard in Saggitarion. We had hoped the commander would allow her to participate in the decommissioning ceremony."

"She'll fly?"

"Oh, yes, sir. We've restored the engines, patched the guidance system, replaced much of the controls..."

"You guys are amazing."

"...she's fueled, armed. Ready for launch, sir," the Chief said, holding out a package. "Commander."

"What, more?" Adama asked while taking the package "Somebody's buckin' for promotion around here."

"I believe that would be Prosna, sir. He found this in the fleet archives; he was doing some research for the museum."

Adama unwrapped the package, seeing it is a picture of a younger Adama with two boys, one blond and one dark-haired. They were all wearing jumpsuits and were standing in front of a Viper. Adama took a deep breath. "Thank you. Thank you all. It's an honor."

"You're welcome, sir," the Chief replied before turning to the crew. "Fall out."

While the crew moved back to work, Adama remained looking at the photograph.

Later, in another part of the ship, Tigh was pouring something from a flask into his mug. He was in a shared room where Starbuck, Boomer, Helo, the CAG and him were playing some poker-like game with octagonal cards.

"Uh oh," Starbuck said.

"Here we go," a man replied.

"If you're gonna play with the big dogs..." Starbuck continued.

"No fair," Boomer said grudgingly.

"I'm in. That's you, XO." Helo added, placing a few chips in the pot on the table.

"Ohhh, Helo. When are you gonna learn? First, you're flying with rooks, and then-" Starbuck began saying but stopped when Boomer hit her.

"Hey!" Boomer said.

"…And then you're betting against Starbuck," Starbuck continued.

Helo made a 'bring it on' gesture.

"Starbuck. That's a good call sign. Starbuck-buck-buck-buck-buck-buck-buck," Tigh said, making it sound like a chicken clucking. "Where'd you get that nickname, anyway? Was that before you were thrown in the brig for drunk and disorderly as a cadet, or after?"


"After that's right, it was... after."

"I'm in. Thanks to you, XO," Helo said.

"How's the wife?" Starbuck asked Tigh, not amused.

"Too early for that kind of money," Boomer said, throwing her cards.

"Hey. Checked out that pyramid game on Geminon?" Helo said.

"What were you doing on Geminon?" the CAG asked.

While the other continued talking, Tigh and Starbuck were still glaring at each other.

"There's a girl there I know." Helo continued, not paying attention at the two of them.

"What girl, don't you know?" Boomer replied.

"The wife is just fine," Tigh said, finally.

"Talk to her lately?" Starbuck continued, smiling.

"That's you, Lieutenant." The CAG said.

"Great. Thirty to me, and it looks like I'm going to bring this lovely little game to a close, cause - full colors. Aha!" Starbuck said, laughing and doing a little victory dance.

Tigh, on the other hand, got on his feet, pushing over the table. Without thinking twice, Starbuck punched the old man in the face. Boomer stepped in, pulling Starbuck back who wanted to hit the XO again.

"Okay, I'm fine, I'm fine," Starbuck said, calming down, but the moment Boomer lets her go, she again tried to assault her superior officer.

"You have finally gone too far, and now you're done. Lieutenant, consider yourself under arrest, pending charges. Report to the brig," Tigh replied, pointing his finger at her.

Starbuck picked up her cigar, holding up her hands. "Gentlemen," she said before leaving.

An hour later, in Adama's quarters, he is listening to Tigh and his recollection of events while washing up and getting dressed.

"Are you really going to press charges against Kara?" Adama asked. He always had a soft spot when she was involved.

"For striking a superior officer? You damn right I am."

"Heard you started the day off pretty early."

Tigh walked over, picking up a picture of Adama and his kids. "I wasn't on duty. Where did you get this?"

"Tyrol's deck gang scrounged it up. I couldn't talk you out of it, could I?"

"Not a chance. She is insubordinate, undisciplined…"

"Probably one of the finest fighter pilots I've ever seen in my life."


"She's better than I am. Twice as good as you."

"Like hell."

"Listen. I'm not gonna defend what she did, especially the cracks about your marital problems. But you did kick over the table first."

"I did not," Tigh said, pausing for a moment to think. "Unless I did."

"You did. So what do you say we drop the formal charges, throw her in the brig, let her cool her heels off until we get home."

"You always did have a soft spot for her."

"Yeah, I guess I'm just a crazy old man."

"So now you're telling me, umm… now you're telling me that you're a machine?" Gaius Baltar asked the woman lying in his bed.

"I'm a woman," Six replied.

You're a machine. You're a synthetic woman, a robot."

"I've said it three times now."

"Well, forgive me, I'm having the tiniest bit of trouble believing that, because the last time anybody saw the Cylons, they looked more like walking chrome toasters."

"Those models are still around. They have their uses."

"Prove it. If you're a Cylon, prove it to me right now."

"I don't have to. You know I'm telling the truth."

"See, stating something as the truth doesn't necessarily make it so, because the truth of the matter is, I don't believe a word of it."

"You believe me because deep down you've always known there was something different about me; something that didn't quite add up in the usual way. And you believe me because it flatters your ego, to believe that alone among all the billions of people of the Twelve Colonies, you were chosen for my mission."

"Your mission? What mission?"

"You knew I wanted access to the defense mainframe."

Baltar remained stunned. "Def… Wait a minute, the defense mainframe? What exactly are you saying?"

"Come on, Gaius. The communications frequencies, deployment schedules, unlimited access to every database…"

"Oh my god!" Baltar said, thinking for a moment. "I had nothing to do with this. You know I had nothing to do with this."

"You have an amazing capacity for self-deception. How do you do that?"

"How many people know? About me? Specifically that I'm involved?"

"Even now, as the fate of your worlds hangs in the balance, all you can think about is how this affects you."

"Do you have any idea what they'll do to me if they find out?"

"They'd probably charge you with treason."

"Treason is punishable by the death penalty. This is unbelievable."

"What are you doing?"

"I'm phoning my attorney."

"That won't be necessary."

"Yeah, he'll know what to do, he'll sort this out. He's the best in the business."

"It won't be necessary, because, in a few hours, no one will be left to charge you with anything."

"What exactly are you saying?"

"Humanity's children are returning home. Today," Six said as, outside the window, there was a bright flash of light on the horizon.

Baltar looked in shock at what had just happened. They were nuking the planet! He quickly moved to turn on the television, displaying two channels at once.

"We don't have any more information yet, but, uh... / ...all remaining ships able to leave Caprica... / actual enemy has yet been sighted... / ...get out into the open countryside or the lesser populated areas of the city... / ...but there doesn't seem to be any doubt..."

Both feeds were abruptly cut, leaving only static.

"What have I done? What am I gonna do? There's no way out," Baltar cried out in panic.

"I know."

"Sure, you know. That's your doing, isn't it? Wait. Wait. There has to be another way out of here. I mean, I mean, you must have an escape plan. You're not about to be destroyed by your own bombs, are you? How are you leaving?"

"Gaius. I can't die. When this body is destroyed, my memory, my consciousness, will be transmitted to a new one. I'll just wake up somewhere else in an identical body."

"You mean there's more out there like you?"

"There are twelve models. I'm number six."

"I don't want to die! I don't want to die!"

Six looked out of the window, wondering.

Gaius stopped whining the moment he noticed Six's strange expression, as if something wasn't right, "What is it?"

"Well, I thought there would be more nuclear explosions by now," Six answered, very confused.

Aboard the oldest Terran spaceship, floating on the outskirts of the Helios Alpha system, Captain Pendergast moved through the various corridors on his way to the cargo bay the TIA agents had indiscriminately turned into an intelligence-gathering station. He didn't like it. No one asked him if he wanted a cargo bay to be turned into something else, and he liked the TIA agents behaving as if they were in charge even less. He had clear instructions that the Prometheus was under the TIA purview for the duration of this mission, with the length of the mission not being specified in the orders.

Pendergast entered the cargo bay, noticing the small group of TIA agents working on their stations.

"Are there any news?" Pendergast asked.

"The Cylons have just begun their attack on the Colonies. We have detected several nuclear explosions on Caprica," Brian Fitzpatrick, the man in charge, replied.

"Nuclear explosions? Does that mean our virus didn't work?" Pendergast asked.

"It did," Brian replied. "Our virus infiltrated the Colonial systems the same way as the Cylon virus did, through the same backdoor in their navigational system. The virus was able to counteract any attempt from the Cylon virus to disrupt the normal functioning of their ships."

"Then why haven't they stopped the Cylons?"

"I would say, slow reaction time and the Cylons going straight for the planets, which will soon turn out to be a terrible idea," Brian said.

"The Cylons must have thought the Colonial warships would be disabled by now, so they sent only a few raiders to destroy them while the rest of their fleet turned immediately on the Colonial planets. The Colonial forces are now flanking them, and it won't be pretty," Joshua Philips, another TIA agent, added.

"Still, they were able to drop nukes on the population, and that's the part I don't like," Pendergast added thoughtfully.

"Nothing we can do about that. Our orders were to help the Colonials covertly, and that's what we've done," Brian replied.

"I am aware of our orders. Does that mean our mission is over and that we can return home?"

"No, Captain. And it won't be over for quite a while," Brian added.

"Our mission has just got more interesting… and became more long term."

Pendergast didn't like how this had sounded, "What do you mean?"

"I mean that we've received new orders. We are to stay here and monitor the situation. A stealth frigate will soon bring us more agents as well."

This was not what the captain wanted to hear. "Great! Just great."

"Sorry Captain, but… orders are orders."

Adama sat in his office, reading the latest reports when the intercom buzzed.

"CIC to the commanding officer," Gaeta's voice was heard.

Adama picked up the phone. "Go ahead."

"I'm sorry to disturb you, sir, but we have a Priority One alert message from Fleet Headquarters. It was transmitted in the clear."

"In the clear? What does it say?"

"Attention all Colonial units. Cylon attack underway. This is no drill."

"I'll be right there."

Ten minutes later, Colonel Tigh was looking at a picture of a blonde woman and pushing a lit cigar through her face when the alarms went off throughout the ship. Tigh looked around, not knowing what was going on.

"Action stations, action stations. Set condition one throughout the ship. This is not a drill. Repeat, action stations, action stations. Set condition one throughout the ship. This is not a drill. Repeat, action stations, action stations."

Tigh immediately pulled his jacket on and exited his room, immediately noticing crew members already rushing to their posts. He needed to reach the CIC and see what was going on.

"Not a drill? They cannot be serious," Prosna shouted while passing near Tigh.

"Sounds like it to me," Cally replied, as well not sure what was going on.

"What are we gonna shoot with? The ship's got no ammunition," Prosna replied dumbfounded.

"All right people, let's go. Let's get to the hangar bay and get it ready for possible incoming," the Chief ordered.

Meanwhile, Tigh had moved through the various corridors and had reached the CIC. "What have we got? Shipping accident?" he asked while Adama was giving him the memo.

"Combat? Understood," Gaeta said, hanging the phone. "Condition One is set. All decks report ready for action, sir."

"Very well," Adama replied.

"This is a joke; the fleet's playing a joke on you. It's a retirement prank, come on," Tigh replied.

"I don't think so," Adama replied before taking the intercom. "This is the Commander. Moments ago, this ship received word a Cylon attack against our home worlds is underway. We do not know the size, the disposition, or the strength of the enemy forces. However, all indications point to a massive assault against Colonial defenses. Admiral Nagala has taken personal command of the fleet aboard the Battlestar Atlantea in orbit of Picon Fleet Headquarters. How, why - doesn't matter right now. What does matter is that as of this moment, we are at war? You've trained for this; you're ready for this. Stand to your duties, trust your fellow shipmates, and we'll all get through this. Further updates as we get them. Thank you."

"Tactical," Adama said, dropping the intercom.

"Sir?" Gaeta asked.

"Begin a plot of all military units in the system, friendly or otherwise."

"Yes, sir."


"Sir," Tigh answered.

"We're in a shooting war. We need something to shoot with."

"I'll start checking munitions depots."

"Dee. Send a signal to our fighter squadron. I want positions and tactical status immediately."

"Yes, sir," Dualla replied.

"And get Kara Thrace out of the brig."

"Sir, I just received a message from Picon Headquarters. They are ordering us and any civilian ship in the area to jump to Picon Anchorage."

"Are they joking? This ship hadn't jumped in ten years," Tigh replied.

"We have no choice Saul; too many Cylon raiders between Picon and us to go through without bullets."


"Mister Gaeta, plot jump coordinates for Picon."

"Yes, sir."

Gaeta worked on the console in front of him for almost five minutes, before pulling out the unique key. Without this key, the jump drive would not work. "I have the coordinates, Commander."

"Set the clock."

The cloak was set for ten seconds. At the end of the ten seconds, Gaeta turned the key, with the ship powering up the FTL drive and jumping away.

Adama entered Admiral Nagala's office in the Colonial's military headquarter on Picon where the admiral was sitting behind his desk, swamped by a small mountain of paperwork.

"Commander Adama, thank you for joining me," the Admiral said, the moment he saw Adama.

"Admiral, I came as soon as I received the order to report to you." It had been three days since the initial attack, and Adama was becoming restless. He wanted answers, and even more, he wanted to do something to help.

"Please, take a seat Commander."

"I'm sorry for my bluntness, sir, but can you tell me what the situation is? Nobody is saying anything."

"Commander, the situation is that we have been caught with our pants down. As a result, the Colonies sustained massive civilian losses, all except for Picon and Aerilon. Caprica and Geminon fared the worst. There is talk of completely evacuating the planets. There is so much radiation that those who didn't die in the blast will soon follow if we leave them there without the appropriate meds.

"On the other hand, our military fared much better. We lost ten battlestars, but the Cylons paid dearly with more than fifteen of their baseships having been destroyed, as well as thousands of raiders."

"I heard rumors that Cylon losses were due to their baseships immediately taking orbit and beginning bombardment of our worlds instead of fighting our warships."

"Yes, and this is the reason why I wanted you here. It was strange that the Cylons used such a flawed tactic. Or at least that was until we found out some of our ships had some trouble."

"Trouble sir?"

"Yes, Commander. A Cylon virus had infiltrated our ships."

"Thank the gods those ships were not completely disabled," Adama replied, knowing full well all new ships were networked, which made a Cylon virus the deadliest of what the Cylons could throw at them."

"I don't think the Gods had anything to do with this."


"Except for the Cylon virus, our systems were also infected with another, different virus. Our best scientist, Gaius Baltar, has worked on the virus for the past two days. He says that the virus was specifically designed to counter the Cylon virus."

"A virus that's fighting another virus, sir? And it won?" Adama asked, not sure if he understood right. If there was one area in which you never wanted to fight the Cylons, that was inside a computer.

"I was puzzled by this information, the same as you are now, Commander. I was even more puzzled when they told me there was a message embedded inside."

"A message, sir? What kind of message?"

"You are welcome."

"I'm welcome with what, sir?"

"No, the message says – you… are… welcome."

"Oh, now I get it. Who's the comedian?"

"Well, that's the problem. One of our ships was able to pinpoint the location from where the virus had originated. When the ship reached it, the thing that sent the virus blew up."

"A satellite, sir?"

"Something like that, yes, but the strange thing is that our people were able to retrieve a few pieces of the satellite or whatever that was and the metallurgical analysis showed the material used to build it isn't anything we ever saw."

"The Cylons, sir? No, that doesn't make any sense either," Adama corrected himself even before the admiral could reply.

"Someone sent as a virus that has probably saved our entire race Commander, and they did it with knowledge about viruses far beyond our own, and far beyond even the Cylons."

"That is a frightening thought, sir, but that still doesn't help us understand who sent the virus."

"We believe we know who, although we do not know why they didn't do it in person."


"The Thirteenth Colony, Commander. That's the only explanation that we could find."

"The Thirteenth Colony is only a myth, sir."

"Maybe, maybe not. Maybe it's just politics."

"Politics, sir?"

"Commander Adama, your mission will be to search for the Thirteenth Colony."

"My mission, sir?" This was getting better and better.

"Yes, Commander. The Galactica and two other battlestars are to depart in two months on your mission to find the lost tribe. Your job Commander is to find Earth. Unfortunately, I can't give you any of our strongest warships because they are needed here, so you'll have to do with the Pegasus and Colombia as support."

'What the frak is he talking about? Those are the strongest, mercury class battlestars in the fleet!' Adama thought.

Nagala noticed the puzzled expression on Adama's face, "I meant the old Pegasus and Columbia."

'What the frak is he talking about? Those decommissioned ships are flying coffins!' Adama thought.

Nagala watched the Commander change color once again. "I know Commander, they are old birds, but once refitted, they will be more than capable for the mission ahead."

"I'm not sure about that, sir. The Galactica is in bad shape, but the Pegasus, for instance, was decommissioned ten years ago. There is no way the ship can fly after only two months of repairs."

"I'm sorry, Commander, but those are the direct orders from president Adar," Nagala said, pausing for a moment. "And there is more."

"More sir?"

Nagala sighed. He knew this would be the final blow, "You are not going alone, Commander. There will be more than a hundred civilian vessels in your fleet."

"Civilian vessels, sir? What the frak… I'm sorry sir, but…"

"No need to apologize, Admiral. It was my exact reaction when the president told me."

"Why did you call me Admiral… sir?"

"Because if you are to lead a fleet, then you must be an admiral. The least I can do is to promote you to that rank. I know it isn't much, given the circumstances, but…"

"Thank you, sir, but I'm still having trouble wrapping my mind around this whole situation. And I still don't understand your remark about politics being behind this."

Again, Nagala sighed. "As you already know, eighty percent of our government was wiped out during the attack on Caprica. Thankfully, our beloved president was not on the planet when that happened," Nagala said, emphasizing the 'beloved' part. They all thought the president was a moron. "Anyways, it turns out that, after him, the highest-ranking member of our surviving government is the Secretary of Education Roslin. Adar placed her as his vice president and then ordered her to be the one to lead the 70,000 people on this mission to find the Thirteenth Colony. This way, she's out of the picture, and he doesn't have to nominate another vice president the Quorum of Twelve would otherwise most certainly demand."

"From Adar's perspective, this probably makes sense. But why sent so many civilians?"

"Actually, I agree with the president on this second part. Not with the amount of military asset, though."


"Adama, we are sending so many because we don't know if we will win this war against the Cylons."

Even Adama could see the reason behind it now. They needed to save enough people so that they could recreate the human race somewhere else if the Cylons were able to win the war, and there was no certainty they would be able to repel the attack. "Admiral, I understand, and I can even agree with the need to safeguard our future as a race, but a hundred civilian ships and only three old battlestars to watch over them. I'm not sure we will be the one who'll survive."

"I understand, Admiral, and as I've already said, I agree, but I don't have more resources to spare to repair more than three ships, and I don't have any other ships that I can give you. Not if we want to win this war."

Adama knew there was nothing more he could say to make things better, "Then, if that is all, I would like to return to my ship and begin repairs immediately."

"Of course. And Bill," Nagala said, pausing to wait for Adama to turn, "I promise you, the people on Picon Anchorage will work twenty-five seven to restore those ships."

"Thank you, Admiral," Adama said, but he knew two months was not enough time to get decommissioned ships back into service. He left the room the next moment. He had a lot of work to do and very little time to do it.

"What the frak happened?" Three shouted as she walked in one of the many rooms aboard the baseship, the place where Six was. "I thought you infiltrated their military?"

"I did," Six replied in her defense. "It should have worked."

"Well, it didn't," Three replied angrily.

"It's not Caprica's fault," Five said as he entered the room. "The Colonials had help."

"What kind of help?" Six asked, in a way relieved that she wasn't guilty of the failure.

"I heard from one of my copies that there was another virus in the system; one that systematically undid everything our virus was doing to corrupt their systems."

"The Colonials do not have anything that can fight our viruses. They never did," Three stated as a matter of fact.

"It wasn't the Colonials. They believe it was humans from the Thirteenth Colony," Five replied.

"We very well know it couldn't have been the Thirteenth Colony," Six said.

"The Colonials are also debating if they even exist and not just as a myth. Are we certain this isn't some deception concocted by the Colonials?" Three asked, reluctant to even think of the possibility of outside help.

"I don't believe it's a deception. The Colonials are not certain either, but they are already planning to send someone to make contact with them and ask for help," Five replied.

"This could be bad for us. Not only were we unable to destroy the Colonial Fleet, but we could also be facing an unknown enemy; one that we know nothing about," Three said, worriedly.

"We must stop the Colonials from finding whoever helped them," Five said.

"Agreed, but we have to worry about the Colonials here too. They will now bring their full military might to the front. Their entire industry is now dedicated to only one purpose; building new warships."

"We have already planned if our initial plan of disabling their ships didn't work. It simply won't be that easy as we thought it would be." Five replied. "Caprica is in rubbles, their seat of power, and with it, they have lost their biggest industrial base."

"You forget that Picon is their military headquarter and Picon Anchorage is their biggest shipyard. And now that we lost the element of surprise, there is no chance we can destroy it without losing half of our fleet," Three said.

"It is your fault we went for Caprica with most of our fleet instead of Picon as we should have," Five retorted.

"It's nobody's fault. An unknown force stopped our plan. We couldn't have predicted that" Six added.

"Caprica is right. Blaming each other won't solve anything. We need to keep pressuring the Colonials with raid attacks until we can replenish what we've lost. And we also need to send a battle group to stop the Colonials from finding help," Three said.

"Agreed," Five replied.

After Six agreed with the plan, they all left the room on their way to their respective duties.

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