Fic - "Going Native part 56"
Here' s part 56 :) It's a BSG/STNG crossover and I swear there's no Planet of the Apes reveal. But things are gathering and coming into focus.....
Lee had to admit, there was a big part of him that was glad to be back on the Galactica. The Enterprise was very plush and the people were very pleasant and in a way it was like staying in a very nice hotel. It was fun, and interesting, something he sensed he could get used to easily, but he sensed that there was one fight left for the fleet before they were truly safe. He didn’t want to be sitting in comfort on the Enterprise for that. The military wasn’t going to be his life, he could sense that doors were already starting to open, not just for him, but for everyone, but he wanted to be on the Galactica for the last fight.
He looked at the pilots assembled in the briefing room and for just a moment his vision wavered. He knew them all, of course. There weren’t many pilots he hadn’t help train, only a rare few who had been among the original crew when the attack on Caprica had occurred. He let himself smile. It was good to be home.
“As you all know, there is a Romulan ship observing the fleet.” He made sure to school his features to look more intent. There were a lot of smiles on the faces of the pilots and he didn’t want that at all. Over confidence could kill and they were too damn close to real safety to have anyone die. “The fleet will soon be jumping to a position deeper in Federation. The Galactica will jump as soon as the FTL drive is ready, but that may take some time. There is a possibility that the Romulans will try to board the Galactica using the transport technology that they and the Federation possess. As our ships would be useless against the Romulan weapons, the Admiral has given us a different task. The marines are currently taking up armed positions all over the ship. We will be formed into two person roaming patrols.” He paused. “We are not taking prisoners.” He tapped the large photo of a typical Romulan. “Take a good look. Romulans look very much like Vulcans, although obviously they wear different uniforms. The Vulcan Starfleet personnel are with Dr. Cottle in medical. They will be in uniform and they will identify themselves as Starfleet. However its unlikely to be a problem since we will be patrolling the lower decks. Mr. Worf will brief us on the basic attributes of Romulan soldiers.”
Worf stepped up to the podium. He glared out at the assembled pilots. “A Romulan Centurian is a formidable enemy. Like Vulcans, they are stronger and faster than humans, and unlike Vulcans, they embrace their emotions. A Romulan is clever and insidious. They will plead for mercy if cornered and then stab you with concealed weapons. They are not to be trusted.”
“So,” one of the pilots called out, “Where’s the best place to shoot?”
It made Lee smile despite it all. ~*~
Reg fumbled with the phaser and dropped it. It clanged on the metal floor and he dove to pick it up but it skidded on the bulkhead into a dark, metallic hole. By the time he had pried it out of the hole in the decking, the group of Starfleet officers had turned into the maze of corridors and disappeared.
Ok, he told himself, this isn’t a big deal. Sure, there was a Romulan ship eying the Galactica, but really, it seemed unlikely that the Romulans would board. He was smart, he knew where he was supposed to be and there were supposed to be roaming patrols of pilots. The Galactica was huge but simply laid out. I’m not a child, Reg told himself, I can find the civilian quarters.
But fifteen minutes later, he found himself staring at the corridor, wondering where he was. Don’t panic, he told himself as he started to hyperventilate. Just because Kara had joked about nuggets getting lost in the bowels of the ship and only mummified remains ever being found, that didn’t mean it was true. Let’s try just following a corridor, he decided. That worked until the corridor ended at a split. Left or right or go back, he wondered nervously.
“Mad Dog?” Reg jumped at the sound and turned around. He had been so involved in where he was going, he hadn’t noticed the three pilots coming up behind him. One was Racetrack, who he knew and who had used his call sign, and the other two were young men who looked just out of their teens. Racetrack smiled at him. “Aren’t you supposed to be with the other Starfleet people? Defending the civilians and all that?”
“I uh… got separated….” He knew better than say he’d gotten lost. It hadn’t escaped him how the colonials found people getting lost on the Galactica to be hilarious. He could see Racetrack pick that up with a knowing look although the two young men seemed to accept it at face value.
“Ok, why don’t you help me out?” She gestured to the two men. “We’re supposed to be in teams but I ended up odd man out. We could make another roaming patrol.”
“Yeah,” one of the young men said, “We need the help.”
“Besides,” Ractrack said, “You’re one of us, not one of them anyway. You’ve got a call sign and everything.”
“Right,” the other young pilot said. “You don’t want to go hide with the civilians do you?”
“Well….” He really didn’t have a problem with defending the civilians against a possible Romulan attack.
“Come on,” Racetrack said, grabbing his arm. “Mad Dog is with me. We’ll head down this way.” She pulled him down the right hand corridor, and he realized after a moment that she was trying not to laugh. Finally she said, between chuckles, “Do you know how many times I’ve had to ditch people in the last two weeks?”
“At least twice that I know of,” he replied, “Are you sure you don’t want to ditch me? I did get lost.”
She swatted him playfully. “I know you got lost, Reg. And no, I like you. You can carry a conversation about something other than my breasts or how good a pilot you are. Have you read the Lord of the Rings?”
“Yes. You know, there’s more books… The Silmarillon, and the histories of Middle Earth.” He grinned shyly as Racetrack’s face lit up.
“There’s more books?” Racetrack grabbed him and pulled him down the corridor. “So obviously while we wait for the Romulans to attack, you and I are going to discuss this. Do you think they’ll attack? I was wondering what someone from Starfleet who wasn’t… you know, on the spot.”
“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “They’re aggressive, but they aren’t mindless. I… I was never very good at this sort of question. It could happen if they think the FTL is worth taking.” He paused. “It *is* worth taking. There’s a lot of things worth taking though.”
“Really?” Racetrack asked. “I had the impression you guys were… Being pretty polite about how nasty and primitive things are here. I mean… you’ve seen the showers. It’s pretty gross.”
“I know,” and he shuddered despite himself. “But the FTL drive is really valuable. And so are other things.”
“Like what?” SHe was so honestly perplexed, he almost smiled.
He touched the shoulder of her flight suit. “Like this. Your flight suits are… amazing. It’s like comfortable clothing that you can wear in space. The FTL drive is going to buy your people a lot of good will, but a space suit with thin gloves and hardly any bulk? I mentioned it in my report.” He was surprised at how easy it was to talk to Racetrack.
She smiled at him and took his hand. “I like you, Reg. You think about things that I never would have considered.” They settled into a companionable silence until they turned the corner.
On the wall of the corridor was a large mural. Reg wasn’t one for art, but it was a powerful image. One he didn’t expect to find on the Galactica. “That’s… odd.”
“It’s new,” Racetrack said, her soft tone gone. She touched a corner. “The paint is wet.” She looked at it. “I’ve seen this….”
“You have?” He looked at her with real curiosity. “You’ve seen a wormhole?”
“A what? No…Reg, this is from the scripture.” She looked at it more intently. “I’ve seen this. In the Scrolls… in a lot of the scrolls, there are symbols on the pages, like illustrations. Some people think they are clues to how the prophecies will really unfold. I saw this in the Scroll of Apollo. That’s the one that everyone is reading. Because of Lt. Gaeta.”
He had picked up the basics of the story and the pieces seemed to coalesce as he stared at the painting. “Racetrack… Margeret…. This is what a wormhole looks like. A wormhole is…. It’s how Felix ended up in the colonies. A wormhole opened up while he was running an experiment in a runabout and it opened up and swallowed up his ship…..”
“No,” Racetrack said. “ I mean, I know that, but this… is a symbol of a vortex. It was in the Temple of Jupiter.” She hesitated. “Look, I’m not religious. I never went to the temple unless my parents made me. But…. There’s *something* going on here. We found Kobol… and Athena’s Tomb led us to Earth, and however it happened, that was prophesized. I don’t think Felix Gaeta is some god… he fraks up too much… But this…” she gestured to the swirling void. “It was prophesized. And a lot of it has come true, and… there’s a lot of endings to this. And a lot of them aren’t good. Things are in motion.”
The question, Reg realized, was whether they could do anything to affect the outcome.