Chapter Text
“We’re receiving a signal from a nearby star system,” Ensign Tarik reported, “it appears to be a distress beacon.”
The shift commander, lieutenant colonel Dorn, straightened in his chair, stifling a yawn. He’d overseen the ‘night shift’ for the past two days, and would have it for the next twelve, though he’d done it many times before. Though ‘night’ and ‘day’ were purely arbitrary in space, human bodies still operated the same way they always had, and that meant the Fleet replicated as much of normal day and night cycle as possible. There had been some discussion of creating two or even four such cycles to increase efficiency, but it was eventually decided this would cause unnecessary separation within the Fleet and would be ultimately detrimental. All of this meant someone had to cover the night shift, and that task fell to the eight people on the bridge, just enough to monitor vital systems, and a few select auxiliary ones.
“What’s the message?” Dorn asked.
“It’s still decoding,” Tarik replied.
Dorn turned to another officer, “Leda, do we know where the signal is coming from?”
Lieutenant Leda nodded, “A nearby system. One star and four planets, the signal originates from the third planet from the star. It’s temperate and has a stable orbit,” she paused to further read her screen, “our scanners are unable to get more detailed readings at this range.”
“Message is decoded,” Tarik reported.
“Alright, let’s hear it.” Dorn said.
“It’s a visual broadcast,” Tarik said. He tapped a few buttons, and suddenly a human face filled the main screen. He had round features, with curly white hair. He looked exhausted.
“This is doctor Lem Galtrain, Altraid Deep Space Research Post 187-1. Requesting immediate assistance. We have lost contact with Research Base 187. We require immediate emergency assistance. This message will repeat.”
“They look human,” Dorn said in wonder, staring at the screen. He sat back heavily in the chair and called Adama. “Sorry to wake you, commander, but we’ve intercepted a distress call…”
____
Adama was still a little sleep fuzzy as he entered the bridge. Dorn stood and turned to him with a salute.
“Alright, let’s see this message.” Adama said, unable to hold down a yawn as Tarik replayed it. Adama stopped it after the second loop.
“Do we have any idea how long this beacon has been active?”
“No sir,” Tarik said, “It seems to be fairly low range.”
Adama nodded. “Attempt to make contact with the doctor. Our first priority must be rendering assistance.”
As Tarik got to work, Adama turned to Dorn.
“Which squadron is active?”
“Blue.”
Adama paused, then gave a quiet huffed laugh, “Of course. Call captain Apollo to the bridge.”
_____
The regular patrols didn’t take a full squadron, but the full squadron was kept on alert. Cylon attacks had become rare, and when they happened they usually didn’t require more than one squadron to deter. The last Cylon outposts they’d encountered were well behind them, and most people assumed they were now outside Cylon territory. Nobody, however, considered themselves safe. The Cylons were still following them, even if they seldom made their presence known, and they were not the only threat. Pirates, while uncommon, were not unheard of, as well as scavengers and opportunists, even hostile civilisations could send raiding parties against the Fleet. The four squadrons were therefore kept in permanent rotation as each squadron took turns covering each shift.
Apollo didn’t mind the night shift. He’d never been good at mornings, even though he’d trained himself to get up on time, his natural instincts had always been to bury himself under the pillow and go back to sleep. He felt more alert in the evenings, and liked the quiet of the ship when most people were in bed. He was playing a tactical game on his data pad, while Starbuck had draped himself over one of the more comfortable chairs in the squad room and fallen asleep.
Some of the others were on patrol, and the rest were throwing a few cubits around in a game of Pyramid. Usually Starbuck would be among them, but he was under a temporary ban since Greenbean’s birthday party.
Apollo’s communicator pipped and he glanced at it, frowning. He kicked Starbuck’s chair and Starbuck woke with a start, blinking at Apollo with a drowsy glare.
“I’ve been called up to the bridge,” Apollo told him, closing out of his game and standing with a stretch. “Don’t fall asleep again,” he added, dropping the data pad into Starbuck’s stomach.
“Yes sir.” Starbuck grunted, taking the pad as he swivelled upright, “Dorn must be bored.”
Apollo shrugged, “only one way to find out.”
____
Doctor Galtrain listened in frowning silence, his image flickering occasionally on the screen. Eventually, he shook his head with a small smile, “incredible. We’d always known that Antillia was a colony of a colony of a colony. In fact, there’s a prevailing theory that humans are the most widespread species in the galaxy. This rather affirms that theory.”
“And you’ve never heard of any planet named Earth?” Adama asked.
Galtrain shook his head, “as we spread the names of the old planets became lost. Too many generations, too great a distance,” he shrugged apologetically, “I’m sorry.”
Adama smiled thinly, “it’s no matter. It was an idle hope.”
Apollo arrived on the bridge, walking up to stand by Adama. He gazed up at the screen, then to his father.
“Ah, doctor Galtrain, this is captain Apollo, he’ll be leading the operation.” Adama said, “if you would care to fill him in on your situation.”
“Captain, I appreciate your assistance.” Galtrain said.
Apollo nodded in acknowledgement. “Happy to help.”
“We’re a small research outpost, in fact, we’re an auxiliary base to a small research outpost,” Galtrain said, “two weeks ago we lost contact with the main base. There’s only a handful of us here, with a small security team. The main base contains highly specialised communication equipment, without it we can’t contact our home planet.”
“Doctor Galtrain has offered some of their technology in compensation,” Adama told Apollo, “though it’s not really necessary,” he said, more to Galtrain.
“It’s the least we can do. I have no idea what we’re sending you into.” Galtrain said.
“The doctor has also given us a security code to use if you find anybody at the base,” Adama said to Apollo, “we don’t want them mistaking us for hostile forces.”
“There’s a landing zone a few helons from our outpost. I have more for you once you’re on the ground.” Galtrain said. “We really are very grateful,” he added sincerely.
“What’s a helon?” Apollo asked.
“We can work that out later,” Adama said, “choose a squad and take a shuttle, by the time you’re ready for launch we should have all the necessary data.”
“Thank you, commander,” Galtrain said. “I’ll be on stand by, should you have any more questions.”
“Thank you, I think we have enough for now. Captain Apollo will notify you when he’s on approach to your base.”
Galtrain nodded and ended the communication.
Apollo turned to Adama, “are they-?”
“They’ve never even heard of Earth,” Adama said, “but they are humans and they need out help, and their technology may be of some use to us.” He turned to colonel Dorn, who was standing to one side, waiting. “I’ll take command from here, you’re relieved.”
Dorn saluted, “Sir.” He threw a smile at Apollo, “Don’t get eaten down there.”
Apollo grinned back, “I wont.”
Dorn nodded and left the bridge.
“Does the Council know about this?” Apollo asked Adama.
“No, but they will soon, though I doubt they’ll have much interest in a tiny human outpost that’s never even heard of Earth. Galtrain said they come from a colony of a colony. They could’ve come from Caprica for all we know. Still, at least everyone can be awake,” he added with a wry smile.
Apollo snorted a laugh, “I’d better get ready. Wherever they came from they need our help.”
“Exactly.” Adama smiled fondly. “Go collect Starbuck and the rest of your team.”
Apollo paused, “how do you know I’ll take Starbuck?”
Adama cast him a flat look.
Apollo nearly protested, then broke into a smile. “I’ll see you when we get back.”
_____
Apollo selected two others beside Starbuck. Hester was short and stocky, her hair prematurely grey from her experience during the Destruction. On Scorpion she’d been a computer programmer, signing up to be a pilot as soon as the opportunity allowed, a career move that would have been all but impossible before the Fleet. Now, however, dramatic shifts had become the norm and nobody had even bothered to question it. She had a certain guilty gratitude, and channelled it into becoming one of the Fleet’s fiercest defenders.
Case was a tall, burly Aerian, a veteran of countless ground battles against the Cylons even before he joined the Viper squadron. He’d lost the lower part of his right leg at the battle of Palatine and it had been replaced by a bionetic. He was also the worst Pyramid player in the Fleet, by Starbuck’s estimation, and owed him at least two hundred cubits which Starbuck would never even consider trying to collect but never let him forget.
As the shuttle came in to the moon’s surface they could see the area was covered in large trees. Hester flicked through the scanner outputs.
“No large living signatures, no significant signal activity,” she said, “Temperature… a little on the cold side, but comfortable. Atmosphere within acceptable range.” She shrugged, “As far as habitability, this place is almost perfect.”
“No wonder they set up a base here,” Apollo said, “they’re probably laying foundations for a new colony.” He switched the comm to Galtrain’s frequency. “This is captain Apollo to outpost 187-1, we are approaching your coordinates.”
“We see you, captain.” Galtrain replied, “you should be able to see the outpost very soon. The landing zone is just beyond on the same heading.”
Almost the moment he said it they approached a clear-cut area in the trees. Within it, a collection of small buildings, a dozen people standing outside them, watching. Then the landing zone came into view and Starbuck brought the shuttle down.
As the warriors arrived at the outpost, Galtrain came up to meet them, staring in open wonder.
“Captain,” Galtrain stopped, “I- I admit, now you’re here it…” He smiled uncertainly, “when you were just a face on the screen the reality barely sank in. Now that you’re standing before me… human beings from the other side of the galaxy…” He shook his head, “But all that will have to wait.”
“I understand,” Apollo said, “this is my crew, lieutenant Starbuck, flight sergeant Hester, and private Case.
Galtrain nodded, “please, come inside and we’ll explain the situation.” He led them across to one of the larger buildings, though all the structures were fairly uniform. A square, utilitarian design made of sheets of a hard, grey substance slotted together. Most likely easily taken apart and put back together. There were some other large, antenna-like structures, and some pieces of other large machinery between.
“How many of you are there?” Apollo asked.
“Twelve scientists and three security guards,” Galtrain replied, “there were five, but two of them went to try to re-establish contact with the main base.” He paused, expression grim, “that was some time ago.”
“How far is the main base?” Starbuck asked.
“About twenty hellours,” Galtrain said.
Case shot a frown at Starbuck, who shrugged helplessly.
“It’s roughly equivalent to about thirty kilometrons,” Apollo said, and on Starbuck’s look added quietly, “according to the computers.”
“How many people are there?” Hester asked.
“More than a hundred,” Galtrain said, “scientists, engineers, support staff… essentially an entire village.”
“And not a single person has been in contact?” Hester said carefully.
“We’ve already…” Galtrain paused outside the door to the building and took a breath, “we’ve somewhat come to terms with the idea that we may be the only people left on this planet.” He smiled slightly, “aside from yourselves.”
They went inside, finding a meeting room and two people standing anxiously inside.
“Doctor Kelsus Narva,” Galtrain gestured to a woman with a short black bob and thin, angular features, “and doctor Leso Psu.” Dr Psu was slender, with short blond hair. They bounced on their heels and nodded nervously, arms wrapped around themselves in a protective hug.
Galtrain introduced the warriors, then beckoned for them all to sit. He placed a device in the middle of the table and brought up a 3D holographic rendering of the main base. It was a series of interconnected polygons, with a landing pad in the middle.
“This is a standard base construction, but I can’t imagine 187 has been significantly modified. It is, or was, the ship that brought us here. The reactors should provide power for 1000 rotons, and they’re supplemented by solar panels. There’s no reason to think the power went out.”
“So you’re trapped here?” Starbuck said.
Galtrain paused. “Effectively. That’s why we need the communication array.” He manipulated the image with his hands, coming to a control room with a large computer-like device. “It’s a supremely high-powered directional communicator. Though, even with this, the signal must be redirected through several deep space boosters to reach Antillia.”
“That’s a pretty big piece of equipment,” Hester said, “I hope you don’t need us to get it back here.”
“No, we just need it operational,” Galtrain said, “we can connect to it with our equipment here. Dr Psu has agreed to go with you to set it up.”
Dr Psu nodded, “I can handle a gun,” they said.
“Do you think you’ll need one?” Apollo said.
“No idea,” Psu replied, “but how many reasons could there be for communication silence?”
“I don’t know if you have hazard gear, but if not, we can provide it,” Galtrain said, “we mustn’t take a single unnecessary risk.”
“How did the security team get back to the main base?” Starbuck asked.
“They took the rover, it’s a small all-terrain vehicle,” Galtrain replied. “I assume it’s still at there.”
Apollo thought for a while, “I’ll stay here and co-ordinate with the doctors,” he told his crew, “you take Dr Psu and figure out what’s going on at the base.”
____
The warriors wore their own protective gear, slipped on over their suits, designed for combat in hazardous environments. Thick gloves and shielded lining, with a clear visor designed for maximum field of vision. Dr Psu wore a clear over-all protective suit and filter mask, and had forgone a weapon.
Apollo grabbed Starbuck’s elbow as the others got into the shuttle and pulled him aside.
“Be careful, we have no idea what’s happening over there.” Apollo said.
Starbuck smiled, “you know me, I’m the Fleet’s number one survivor. Besides,” he glanced towards where Galtrain was standing with a few of the other doctors, “I should be warning you. We have no idea if we can trust these people.”
“I can hold my own against a few scientists,” Apollo said wryly.
“You say that now, just wait until they’re trying to dissect you to see if you’re really human.” Starbuck winked, “stop worrying so much.”
“Hm,” Apollo shook his head, smiling, then turned serious again, “look after Psu, I don’t think you’re going to find a lot of survivors.”
“Just like home, huh?” Starbuck sighed, and nudged Apollo’s shoulder with his fist and headed to the shuttle.
Apollo walked back to Galtrain as the shuttle took off.