Breaking the Veil (Commissioned NuBSG/BT crossover)

Location: In Orbit of Caprica, Twelve Colonies
Year: 1980C/20BCH

"So, remind me why they're pushing back the retirement of the Daedalus," Colonel Francis Woullard said, looking at the small group forming around the Valkyrie-Class battlestar. "Because I was looking forward to finally getting to enjoy my grandkids."

"Because, some sort of distress beacon came from deep space," Commander Ike Senner replied. "And the Powers that Be have seen fit to send all of us Old Bastards out to go check on it. Lieutenant Lenz, open up a channel to the rest of the fleet. I'll give them a quick update."

"Opening channels now, sir," Lenz replied, his salt and pepper hair showing he was one of the youngest members of the crew. "The fleet's ready when you are."

"This is Commander Senner," Ike began, speaking into the handset he'd grabbed. "I'll keep this as brief as possible, given you've all already been given this information. Three days ago, a communication was received from deep space. It was unencrypted, but we were able to make out some familiar words, including one of a request for assistance. Now, High Command is aware that it is possible that this is a Cylon lure to force us to break the armistice. But, they have decided that it is worth the risk if there is a lost colony out there. You have all served for many years, protecting the twelve colonies, ensuring that our loved ones are safe. Now we're being trusted once more, this time with a mission of exploration and aid. After this is finished, I look forward to a nice retirement party with you all. But if it does lead to war. At least us old bastards were the first into the breach. May the gods watch over us and direct our footsteps as we journey into the unknown. Senner, out."

"You know, if they were going to send us on an exploration mission, they could have sent us with more modern ships and sensors," Woullard complained. "I mean, hell, we're only missing the Galactica to round out this group."

"Older ships are less valuable to the Fleet, sir," Lenz offered. "Given the Daedalus is the oldest of the Valkyries, it makes sense they'd send us."

"We're all expendable here, Lieutenant," Woullard chuckled. "The Old Bastards are just more expendable than others."

"Aye, sir," Lenz nodded, seemingly lost in memory for a moment before he snapped back to the present and continued. "Commander, the fleet's ready to jump when you give the word. FTL drives are ready to spin up, and we've got the basic course laid out for us to follow to the broadcast location."

"Alright, Lieutenant," Commander Senner nodded. "Tell the rest of the fleet to begin jumping, Scouts first, then the rest of us follow once we're given the all clear."

–
–
Three days later…

"Well, Commander, after this next jump, we'll be fully out of explored space," Lieutenant Lenz informed Senner. "How do you want the fleet to proceed from here on out?"

"If this is a trap like I suspect," Colonel Woullard said from his seat. "Then, we should take it slow, Ike. The last thing we need is to burn out our drives jumping far and fast like we've got something to prove. 'Sides, we're collecting extra pay for the retirement checks. Might as well take our time."

"I'm more concerned with the exploration aspects, Colonel," Senner replied. "We've got an opportunity to map out potential resource deposits and maybe even a place for us to Kobolform some new colonies later. So, here's how we're going to proceed. We scout at one system per week, depending on the distance. Then we stop and scan everything that is in the system. I want us to know where everything is and what it is. In the event this turns out to be a Cylon trap, we'll still have at least one ship with the data available and ready to return to the Colonies and the fleet."

"Yessir," Lenz nodded. "Sending message to the rest of the fleet."

"Lieutenant, you have the con," Senner said after a moment. "Colonel, please join me in my office."

The CO and XO of the small fleet left the bridge to the other officers and vanished into the 'shoe closet' that was Commander Senner's office.

"They offered to let me retire fully instead of doing this last mission," Senner said once he'd sat down and pulled out a small glass bottle from a drawer. "I almost took them up on the offer. Figured I'd give you your shot at commanding a fleet before you retire."

"Frak that," Woullard swore, laughing as Senner poured two glasses of the liquor. "I'd have told them no and gone home for the last time."

"That's why I took it anyway," Senner chuckled. "Frank, I don't think this is a Cylon trap."

"Why not, Ike?" Francis leaned forward. "Because it certainly looks a lot like one of the ones we used to encounter during the War. Fake a distress call, lure a few ships in, and then ambush them when they respond."

"No, that part lines up with what we know," Ike agreed. "But I think this is more of a case for Fleet Command to write us off. We're old, we're not as good at using new tech like they want, and we're stuck in our ways. The reason I don't believe this is a Cylon trap is the language. If the Cylons wanted to fake a distress call from someone, they'd use our language. Not whatever gibberish was in the message we received. Besides, the beacon's ancient by our standards. The tech types put the date that it originated from anywhere between four hundred and five hundred years old."

"It just took that long to reach us," Woullard grabbed the shot glass and slammed it back. "So, whatever attacked them might still be out there. Waiting for us?"

"That, or it was the dying gasp of a distant prespaceflight civilization," Senner sighed. "Either way, I want the full route to that system explored. If we do run into some sort of advanced enemy, or an alien of some kind, we're going to need a clear route back to the colonies."

"I'll make sure our CAG is ready for launch if that ever happens," Woullard nodded. "Did you need anything else, Ike?"

"Just to talk about the grandkids," the CO grinned. "Chuck's going to get his pilot's license this year. He's intent on signing up with the Fleet."

"Well, talk him out of it," Woullard shook his head. "Civilian hauling pays better, and you have less idiots to deal with. At least he's sticking with the Navy. My grandkids are following in their father's footsteps. Not Marines, not Navy, but Army. I don't know where I went wrong in raising him, but it must have been something his mother said…"

---

Three months later…


"Alright, ladies, this should be the last system we have to scout and clear for the rest of the fleet," Lieutenant Jaime "Ice" Ernalia informed the handful of Raptor Mk. IIIa's that made up her scouting force. "Spin up FTL drives and follow my lead. We're not here for a fight; we're just here to ensure the next system's clear."

"ECM is on standby, ma'am," Ensign Kim Atsu said. "Just waiting on the rest of the Raptors to report in."

A few moments later, the rest of the six-Raptor scouting force had done so, and they jumped into the next system. Their final destination.

"Wow," Atsu snarked as the initial scans started coming in. "Another star system with nothing in it."

"Wait, that doesn't look like the usual asteroid belts we've seen so far," Jaime shook her head. "Looks more like a debris field from back in the War."

"Frak," Atsu agreed. "I'm not seeing any active signatures on the medium scans, though."

"Hey, Ice," Hansa 'Carver' Zende called out over the wireless. "Ash here's identified what he thinks is a couple of half-destroyed wrecks within medium scanner range. I'm going to take Victim as backup and go check them out."

"Just get scans and fall back to the rest of the group," Ice ordered. "Once we've established that there isn't an ambush waiting here, we'll jump back to the fleet. Their sensors are going to be better than ours anyway."

"Copy that, ma'am, we're en route now. ETA is about an hour, maybe more."

"We'll find it in our hearts to wait for you, Carver." Ice snarked back. "I can't promise the same for Bankroller."

"Hey, you know me. Always on the move!" the cheery Raptor pilot chirped back. "Sleeping in a cockpit's way more comfortable than the benches in the park."

"You would be the only one to know that," Knife sighed. "Ice, can I swap partners? I'd rather not have 'Roller on my six."

"Take it up with the Major when we get back," Ice replied. "He's the one who assigned the wingmen for this op."

"Frak," Knife swore. " 'Roller, I swear to the gods that if you get me killed that I'll haunt you for the rest of eternity."

After that, the wireless filled with the chatter from the Cylon War veterans. This was the third month they'd been rotating into these scouting runs, and with how little they had seen, the Major had allowed them to relax their wireless security measures.

"Jaime," Atsu said as his ECM console beeped. "We just had the signal we're supposed to investigate send out the broadcast again."

"Well, let's listen to it, see if we can understand anything now that we're closer," the Lieutenant replied.

The once full wireless was now silent as the entire Raptor group listened to the beacon's message. Instead of the garbled mess they'd been given on the initial deployment, they heard it clearly. The radio waves were no longer bouncing out and around the stars.

"They sound like they're speaking that language from the show my grandkids watch," Knife commented. "You know, the one with the made-up orks and shit?"

"I'll take your word for it," Ice shrugged. "Carver, what's the status on your scans? I want to get the full message back to the fleet ASAP."

"Another fifteen minutes and we'll be ready to jump," Carver replied. "Victim here's a wiz at cutting down the scanning time."

Victim had never been one to speak all that much, and simply clicked the radio once in response.

"Well, we'll get the coordinates calculated for you and send 'em to you so you're ready to jump when the rest of us are," Atsu informed the two craft that were scanning the wreckage.

–
–

"So, it looks like some sort of battle took place, lieutenant?" Commander Senner removed his cap, revealing his bald head for a brief moment as he considered all the information the Lieutenant and her scouting team had provided.

"Yes, sir," Jaime nodded. "According to Victim's scans, it looks like it was done with conventional weaponry. Although he did admit that it's possible they used nukes and that it was so long ago that any radiation might have long since dissipated. It's also possible that we missed something; we didn't want to stray too far into the system."

"Thank you, lieutenant," Colonel Woullard nodded. "Go get some rest, I'll have the Major handle the rest of your team's debriefing."

"So, what'd you think?" The colonel turned to the Commander. "Do we jump in and take a look behind the veil?"

Ike Senner had folded his hands underneath his chin and seemed to be deep in thought before he nodded and stood up. "Alright, Frank, fold the fleet into formation," Senner opened the door to the bridge and stepped out onto it. "All hands to battle stations. I want Vipers prepped for launch, and everyone ready to jump in the next twenty minutes!"

---

"Alright, people, listen up! Because I'm only going to say this once," Captain Jorge Lezzhov yelled over the din of machinery. "Outside of the initial scans, we have no idea what's waiting for us down there," he pointed at his feet. "It looks like everything's destroyed and that there aren't any people down there. But we have no way of verifying that without getting our boots on the ground. So, we're going in and taking a look around before the navy-types and the big brains start examining shit. Keep your weapons on the ready and your heads on a swivel. I didn't keep you all alive through the Cylon War just to have you die to some alien freak on another planet. Any questions?"

"Yessir," A corporal grinned. "What're our orders regarding loot?"

"If you can carry it and it fits in your bunk, you can keep it," the Major replied. "Now, get to your designated Raptors, it's time to see what kind of aliens we're dealing with."

"I thought I told you I didn't do taxi services for free anymore," Ice commented when a group of Marines and familiar faces entered her Raptor's troop bay.

"Just put it on our tab," Jorge replied. "The Corps'll pay for it eventually."

"You hear that, Atsu?" Jaime turned to her partner. "We're gonna be rich in a few years."

"I don't remember the Corps ever paying for our services," Atsu smirked behind his helmet. "In fact, don't they still owe us from the War?"

"Nah, we wiped that slate clean after they bailed us out on Vergon, remember?" Ice asked.

"Right," Atsu nodded. "I suppose we'll start a new tab for you, Major. But don't go forgetting to pay us this time."

"Drinks are on me when we're back in the colonies," Jorge promised as the Raptor left the launch bay and began its descent through the atmosphere. "I might even find something for you down below."

The Major closed his mouth as soon as the ship began shaking upon reaching the edge of the atmosphere. Jaime and Atsu might not have been affected by the usual procedures, but Marines are a superstitious bunch, and it had long been established tradition that speaking on the way down was a surefire way to go down upon entry.

Once they'd broken through the barrier of the atmosphere, a small screen in the troop bay showed what the cameras in the front of the Raptor were seeing.

"We're going to set you down in that intersection," Ice broke the stunned silence. "We're not detecting any radiological or other warnings, so whatever nukes got used here, the radiation levels have long since passed."

The Raptor slowed and came to a stop in the intersection Ice had indicated.

"Alright, people," Jorge said, unstrapping himself and hefting his carbine, the weapon looking small in his massive paws. "We've got our mission, let's take a look around."

"We'll hang around to assist with maintaining contact with the other groups," Ice called out to the Major. "Just let us know if you need anything."

All around the ten-man group of marines were skyscrapers. Some looked almost pristine, while others had been bombed into oblivion or had toppled over.

"It almost looks like some of the cities did after the War," Sergeant Malcom said quietly.

"I don't recall any of our cities looking this bad," a private replied. "And I was in the thick of the city fighting on Tauron."

"Alright, let's see if we can find a government building of some kind," Jorge said into his radio. "All teams, fan out, look for a symbol of government or any signs of intelligent life."

"Yes, sir!"

The Marines spread out and began exploring the ruined city until another group got into contact with the Major.

"Major Lezzhov, you're going to want to see this," Sergeant Volke's voice chirped on the wireless. "I think I've found where the distress call is coming from. Along with something else… But you'll need to see it to believe me."

"I'm on my way, Volke. Signal your position with smoke," Jorge switched channels. "Ice, I need a pickup on the location of the Flare I'm about to send up. One of the other platoons found something, and I need a ride."

Pulling the small pistol from his belt, Jorge pointed it into the sky and squeezed the trigger, the bright glow of the green light illuminating his position for the Raptor to see.

---

"What is it you wanted to show me, Sergeant?" Jorge dismounted the Raptor and waved at Ice as she lifted off.

"Right this way, sir," The sergeant replied, beginning a fast walk down the street. "I was going to explain it over the wireless, but this is better if you see it in person. Also, we're pretty sure that the people here were human, or at least close to it."

"What makes you say that, sergeant?" Jorge asked.

"We found a few skeletons around the distress beacon in the government building," Volke said. "They looked an awful lot like the burnt husks I saw during the war."

"I thought we didn't have any colonies out this far," the Major commented.

"I dunno, sir. That's for the scientists to figure out," Volke shrugged. "But we're pretty sure that," He pointed at something that was so large, Jorge had dismissed it as a trick of the eyes at first. "That is one of the things that killed the people here. Well, that and the nukes."

"That's the largest frakking Cylon I've ever seen," Jorge clutched his carbine closer as if it would help protect him.

"Yessir, we think it's also why some of the 'scrapers around here got demolished. Set some charges up, and you can drop a building on one of these things as it walks by if you do it right. I can't imagine fighting one of them on foot outside of that and having a lot of air cover."

"It also explains the nukes," Jorge sighed. "Alright, let's get the Navy down here. Time for the eggheads they hired to earn their keep. If these things were active enough to kill us, they'd have already done so."

"Ice, please let the Commander know that we've found a government building and have secured it for further study. We're going to hold until given further instructions, Major Lezzhov, out."

---

"What do you have for me, Doctor Russell?" Ike asked the question that was burning in everyone's mind.

"This is definitely a dead human colony," The archaeologist said. "But I'm not sure that the Cylons had anything to do with the fallout. It appears to me that there was a divergent evolution in our paths. We developed the Cylons, and they developed these," the screen displayed a multi-story bipedal machine. "Our Cylons made use of artificial intelligence, whereas these require a human pilot to ensure the tasks are done. There is also no Tylium to be found on this world or the surrounding planets."

"Then what happened here?" Colonel Woullard asked. "What are we going to report to the brass at the Fleet?"

"I believe that there was an internal conflict that manifested in a civil war," Russell replied. "According to close scans of the planet taken by raptors, the nuclear weapons used damaged the ecology of the world, ash clouds decimated plant life, and it's only recently that the world itself has begun to recover. If the people who lived here didn't evacuate, then they died. It's possible that there may be records of where they would have gone, but it would take time to translate and figure such things out. At present, I have only translated the name of this nation. Anything more would take time that I do not believe we possess."

"No," Commander Senner agreed. "Fleet HQ will expect a report fairly soon. We've got another week or so to explore and make conclusions at most."

"Then my recommendation is to pack up everything that may reveal their secrets to us and to bring them back to the Colonies," Russell said. "My colleagues and I will have more time to study it at the university, and if more is needed, we can return at a later date with a civilian fleet to inspect this wreckage of this 'Taurian Concordat'."

Senner considered this for a few moments before exhaling a heavy sigh.

"Alright, I'll have extra personnel and shuttles sent down with you, Doctor. We'll load up what we can and will bring it back with us for the return trip."

"Thank you, Commander." Russell grabbed his satchel and stack of books.

"And Doctor, please try to keep your lab clean," Senner said before the archaeologist had left. "I've had far too many sailors tripping over books for it to be safe there."

"I'll see what I can do, Commander," The Doctor vanished around the corner.

"So, you think we're going to end up having to come back on a return trip?" Woullard asked.

"I all but guarantee it," Senner sighed. "So much for retirement. It looks like we're going to be stuck here for a while…"

Author's note: I'm probably going to leave this as a one-shot unless someone commissions more of it. Still, enjoy, @CrazedGamma1721's commission.

Chapter 2

Location: Taurian Concordat Homeworld?
Year: 1981C/19BCH

"So, they denied your request again?" Colonel Woullard asked.

"We're stuck with the fleet we've got now," Commander Senner sighed. "Fleet HQ considers this project important enough to keep us here and not allow us to retire. But not enough for them to give us enough ships to properly defend everything. Besides, they're more concerned with the recent maneuvers the Cylons have made near the Line."

"Any luck with convincing Russell that we need the civilian sector to pick up the slack where the fleet won't?" Woullard asked. "At least he's got a good head on his shoulders. Unlike some of the other scientists we've worked with in the past."

"Yes," Senner nodded. "And he agrees. But convincing the wealthy backers behind the digs is a different story altogether."

"Then what are we left with, a handful of us endlessly patrolling a dead system?" Woullard shook his head and sagged into his chair."

"Not entirely," the Commander smirked. "Lieutenant Lenz thinks that it may be possible to salvage and refit one of the wrecks that are in the system. I've got Ice and her group of Raptors doing surveys now. Even if we can't get those hulks operational again, we can use the wreckage and whatever salvage we pull out of them to start working on some sort of defense satellites."

"Frak," Woullard swore, knowing what Senner was about to command him to do.

"And as our foremost expert on technology that doesn't belong to the Colonies," Senner clapped his XO and friend on the back. "I'm putting you in charge of the project."

"I can still retire!" The colonel protested.

"Nope, we all renewed our contracts. I've got you for another ten years," Ike relaxed. "Look, Frank, you were able to crack Cylon systems; surely this shouldn't be too hard for you."

"I developed programs that worked with their old tech," Frank shook his head. "And only because their systems were similar enough that I could bootstrap our own codes and backdoors to make it work. That's an entirely different story from trying to design and interface with some alien technology. Let alone one that the scientists still can't translate."

"It's either we do it or the civilian sector gets to look at the technology first. If we do that, then we won't see any results from the research make it to the Fleet for another twenty years."

"We won't see the results from sending off tech samples for that long anyway," Frank replied. "The Brass won't put money into something that's not a sure thing. We both know that. They're all in on bigger ships and guns. Not putting their budgets into researching better, more efficient guns and ships."

"That's why we're repurposing them," Ike leaned forward. "If we have control, then we get to decide what samples we send back. We can keep some and repurpose them into our defenses. Then, if and when the Cylons come knocking, we'll have a surprise waiting for them."

"We have no idea how long that'll take, though," the Colonel cracked his neck. "It could be years before we have anything like that completed."

"And we have no idea how long this peace will hold with the Cylons either," Senner replied. "None of us knows what the future holds, Frank. I'm not expecting perfection, I just want you to try."

"Fine. But I want it noted that I don't think this will work," the Colonel tossed back his liquor. "This isn't the shows or movies, and making technology talk to each other isn't an easy ask. Now pour me another glass, Ike. I'm not drunk enough for this shit yet."

–
–

"I should have told him no again," Frank sighed as he looked over the barely lit and foreign computers. "We can't even read the language yet, how am I supposed to make them talk?"

At least they'd been able to tow the wrecks into orbit around the planet. Their Tylium generators powered some of the life-support modules they'd brought in, and they'd been able to close enough bulkheads to keep an atmosphere in certain areas. Yet, none of that made a single difference if he couldn't figure out what the computer said.

The worst part was that there were times when the characters almost looked familiar! As if he could read them. But the next bit would be nothing but writing that was jumbled together. IT was like there were multiple languages on this computer, and it was maddening! How was someone supposed to deal with computers that had multiple languages across them?

Sure, he could navigate the controls just fine. There were only so many ways that a human could configure anything like that. And through simple trial and error, he'd managed to get the dull red of some sort of emergency lights to appear. But anything beyond that was going to require him to do something he really didn't want to do.

He'd have to go down to the planet and ask the archaeologists for help. Russell was acceptable; he'd served with the rest of them during the War. But the others? They were civilians through and through. There was no respect for what the military was doing here, or what their missions might be.

Maybe he could bribe Russell into making an appearance and helping him out. Frank had tucked aside a few bottles of Ambrosia and a few other treats. Besides, Russell still owed him one for bailing him out fifteen years ago. He didn't want to have to cash that favor in yet.

It might be worth it to be able to actually read and understand the frakking characters on the screen, though. Because if he made the red lights flicker like youngsters in a club again, he might break the damned terminal before getting any use out of it.

Stripping some of the unknown weapons off the wreckage for study had been easy in comparison to this.

"I'm too damned old to be figuring this sort of shit out," Frank swore, turning away and floating away from the infuriating terminal. "Frakking technology doesn't even use Tylium or have artificial gravity!"

---

"So, what'd you think of the ships we scanned?" Kim Atsu passed around some cold beer to the rest of the Raptor pilots and ECM operators.

"They're certainly not built the same as ours," Hansa said, the burly man accepting the beer in one of his massive paws that he called hands. "I mean, they all look like giant fish. Who designs a ship like that?"

"It could be easier for their point defenses to handle," Ash shrugged, the tiny blond woman looking small beside the person who usually sat in the cockpit with her. "Or it could just be the design philosophy. Who knows?"

"Some of the fighters we saw in the hangers look interesting," Jaime leaned her head against the cool wall next to her bunk. "I wonder what it would be like to fly one."

"Heh," Kim shook his head. "We all know that we're not going to get that chance. If anyone gets to fly one of those birds, it's going to be the Viper pilots."

"I wonder what extra money we can make off selling the images to media companies back in the Colonies?" Jackson "Bankroller" Reese asked, his ragged appearance and uniform at odds with the callsign. "Maybe I can afford to finally rent an apartment?"

"Jackson, any money you have when we get off this deployment will be gone by the end of the week," Elsa "Knife" Rose shook her head. "You don't know how to stay away from the frakking casinos long enough to keep it."

"Why worry about the colonies at all?" Drew "Victim" Ramada asked. "There's plenty of real estate to take ownership of down there," He pointed down towards where the planet was. "Pick a building, get the power and water running to it, and you'll have all the space you could want."

"That assumes we want to stay here, though," Jaime commented. "I'd be fine with it. I ain't got nothing to tie me down back home. But most of y'all have families. You gonna bring them with you and put down roots here?"

"I'd be willing to," Kim shrugged. "Look, we haven't set up a new colony since before the War. Why not use this as an opportunity? Half the work for building a city's already been done for us. We just need to get agriculture set up again."

"Sure, there's just the fact that these people fought a war against Cylons that were so large they had to drop entire buildings on them to kill them," Knife snarked, her bored voice taking on a sharp tone. "We also still don't know what happened to the people or the Cylons yet."

"I'm not saying that we put down and settle here immediately," Kim retorted. "I'm just saying it wouldn't surprise me if some people saw it as an option to retire down there."

"I'll figure something out," Drew said quietly. "I'm pretty sure there's some beachfront property around that I can snag for a party later."

"We can figure all that kinda stuff out later," Jaime lay down on her pillow and closed her eyes. "For now, we need to all get some shuteye. Commander Senner wants us to investigate the asteroid belt and the moons of the gas giants to see if there's anything we missed during the first system survey."

"Frak," Hansa swore. "That'll take weeks to fully survey, Ice."

"I know," the squadron CO sighed in response. "But Senner's got a point. We didn't spend a ton of time on the belt while doing the initial survey. We were looking for any signs of Cylon activity and checking out the wrecks that are all around the system. We weren't looking around for anything else. He's hoping that we can find mineral deposits that are easy to get to or maybe even some Tylium to keep the ships and generators fueled."
"Because we're not a frakking priority," Elsa growled. "Mark my words, we won't see a single tanker ship for another year. Fleet HQ wanted to get rid of us anyway. Wouldn't surprise me if they just wrote us all off as a loss."

"They're just fighting with everything else for funding," Drew shrugged. "The way that they get what they want is by pointing out the immediate threats. Not potential ones. We don't know everything that happened here yet. Until then, we're stuck. So, might as well find a house on the beach and enjoy it when we're on leave. We won't have all that much else to do."

"It's always politics," Ash said quietly. "It doesn't matter if we win the wars if we hamstring ourselves for the next one in the in-between."

"Enough with the doom and gloom talk," Ice sighed. "Get some shut-eye. We've got a whole system to go over in the next couple of weeks, and I don't want anyone complaining about how tired they are!"
"Yeah, 'Roller," Knife smirked. "I know it's not the park bench, but I'm sure your bunk should be comfortable enough."

"Asshole," Roller threw his pillow at the other pilot, only for her to catch it and tuck it underneath her head.

"Thanks! I needed the extra pillow," She laughed. "It helps with the back pain of carrying your weight all over the place."

"You're like children," Ice sighed and tuned them out in favor of drifting off to sleep. After all, they had a lot of work to do tomorrow.

---

"Look, I'm an archaeologist, and I can read and interpret the various Kobolian dialects. I got lucky with being able to figure out the name of the nation here," Dr. Russell told his old friend. "Despite what the media portrays us as, archaeologists spend a lot more time digging in the dirt and dating artifacts than we do learning new dead languages. We've got a linguist here specifically to figure out and then teach us how to read the languages we've got here. If you want help, you're going to have to deal with Dr. Maria Aminov."

"A civilian?" Frank asked.

"She served as a medic during the war," the doctor shook his head. "Most of the team I brought are veterans. The few who aren't are well aware of what I think about acting like a fool out here."

"Fine," Woullard sighed. "I'll go talk to this Maria."

"She's in the office over there," Russell pointed down the hall of the government building they'd taken over as their base of operations. "Be careful when you open the door, though; her organizational skills are worse than mine."

"I doubt that," the colonel chuckled. "But I'll take my chances."

Stepping out into the dull gray halls, Frank followed Russell's directions until he reached a door with a plaque that had "Dr. Aminov" written on it.

Taking a deep breath, the Colonel knocked on the door and waited for a response.

"Come in," a quiet voice greeted him.

Frank opened the door and didn't see anyone. If Dr. Aminov was present, she was hidden behind the stacks of books that were across the desk.

"My apologies, Colonel," the diminutive woman finally caught his eye. She was a dwarf. It wasn't that she was entirely hidden by the books around her, it was that she would have been hard to see at all.

"No, the fault lies with me," Woullard smiled. "Dr. Aminov, Russell pointed me in your direction to ask for assistance with translations. Command Senner has tasked me with figuring out how to speak to the computers of the Taurian Concordat, and while I can guess at some controls and systems. There comes a point at which I need to be able to read the language as well."

"Take a seat if you can find one, Colonel," Maria said after a moment. "Because the way to understand a language that isn't spoken anymore begins with the basics."

She pulled two books out of a stack and brought them over.

"You see, I actually need your help too. I'm stumbling over words that look the same but appear to be used in different contexts. Not to mention, I still haven't figured out how the various letters are spoken or sound. So, you help me figure out the context and how things work together, and as I figure out the translation, I'll help you with your operations."

"Do you have any idea how long it could take?" Woullard asked.

"Hopefully, we'll have a basic understanding of common words or phrases by the end of the year. It'd take longer, but we have so many examples of media here to pick from that we should be able to have something by then. I have my interns and assistants searching through the city for children's books. That should help greatly, too."

"Alright," Woullard sighed. "Tell me what to do."

Author's Note: The first chapter of the four chapter commission.

Chapter 3

Three Months later…

"Major Lezzhov! We need you!!" Sergeant Volke staggered into the command center. "One of the Cylons is active!"

"They're what?!" Jorge Lezzhov grabbed the SMG he kept underneath his desk and slung it on his back before moving towards the noncom and staring him in the face. "Sergeant, you'd better explain right now."

"It's just sitting there, sir," Volke sucked in air. "Fitz got drunk while off duty the other night and pissed in the engine tank. Apparently, that was enough to give it some juice, because Terada hit the wrong button and the whole thing lit up! The whole compound's on high alert, and the Lieutenant is waiting for you."

"Take me to her," Lezzhov sighed, lowering the SMG before grabbing the sling and tossing it over his shoulder. "We'll see if I need to toss her in the brig or not."

Unfortunately, it wasn't a short walk. The building that they'd tossed all of the large Cylons they'd found into was across the city and as far away from the other research sites as possible. Besides that, navigating the dead city was hard enough even in the areas where there wasn't damage. Because they hadn't finished the translation, they couldn't read the signs. Instead, they had to navigate off of landmarks. Landmarks that were made harder to identify due to the damage that had been done.

Thankfully, they'd managed to acquire some vehicles from the Fleet HQ's motor pool when they'd returned to report to the colonies. Said vehicles that had been left in there had been so nice and expensive, it was a shame they weren't being used to their full potential.

"I want us there, yesterday, Sergeant!" Lezzhov jumped into the passenger seat of the convertible while grabbing his wireless. "Doctor Russell, we need an engineer to report at Cylon holding facility-" Lezzhov glanced at Volke, who mouthed the word 'gamma' to him. "Gamma, I repeat, Cylon holding facility Gamma. We may have a situation on our hands."

"Understood," The archaeologist replied through a bit of static, his voice hardened. "I'll start arming the researchers. I'll also have Rodeka get into a vehicle and be on his way to Gamma."

The Marines and researchers had set up three separate compounds. Alpha Compound was where all of the shattered and broken pieces of Cylons and any small arms they'd found were stored for later study. Beta was where they'd placed all of the tanks, APCs, and other military vehicles they'd come across. But Gamma, Gamma was where they'd put the 'intact' Cylons. Some of them were missing arms, others legs, or other parts. All of them were mostly intact, though.

"Copy that," Lezzhov said. "I'm en route now. Sergeant, step on it."

They moved through the deserted streets, avoiding the occasional crater from weapons, and moving through the shrubs and trees that had started to grow throughout. Eventually, they arrived at one of the few constructions that had originated in the Colonies. The set of prefabricated structures had been repurposed from a motor pool to contain and study the large Cylons. A fence around the compound, topped with razor wire, and a hastily constructed guard post were waiting for them when they arrived.

"Sergeant, Major," the Marine on duty checked them over before waving them through. "We've been waiting for you. Lieutenant Terada's in building 4."

"Sergeant, go collect Corporal Fitz. We're going to need to have a discussion after I'm done with the lieutenant," Lezzhov growled. "Private!" He called out to the Marine on Guard. "Send Rodeka to building four when he gets here."

"Yes, sir!" The Major stalked towards building 4 while the Sergeant went to collect the Corporal.

The few hundred yards between the buildings should have been enough time for the Major to calm down, to maybe have some sort of reasonable reaction to everything that happened. Hell, the drive should have been enough. Instead, all it had done was make him angrier. There were frakking active Cylons present here. In violation of the treaty! He hadn't fought and survived on the ground against the frakking death machines only to have them show up on some forgotten colony and kill his men again.

"Lieutenant!" He bellowed as soon as he reached the doors. "Front and Center!"

"Right here, sir!" The graying woman had a machine gun mounted on a mixture of sandbags and concrete, pointed it at the Cylon with the lights on, and pressed her shoulder into it. "It hasn't moved since it powered on." Her eyes didn't leave the ironsights of the machine gun.

"What happened?" Lezzhov shouldered his SMG and pointed it at the same target before moving next to her.
"I was doing routine checks a couple of hours ago," She replied. "Didn't know Fitz had decided to piss in the wrong place until this morning. Some sort of door was opened on one of the Cylons, and I wanted to check it out. As soon as I touched one of the controls, the whole thing lit up. I've had the self-destruct on standby since, and set up here."

"It's not done anything at all?" Lezzhov asked.

"No, sir," Terada exhaled, exhaustion creeping into her voice. "Not even a single centimeter since we got set up in defensive positions."

"Alright," Lezzhov sighed. "Go have a… Discussion with Corporal Fitz about what constitutes proper behavior in a secured facility when off duty, and then get some rest. I'll take over here until the geeks get here."

"Yes, sir," Terada pulled her helmet off and wiped some sweat off her face, slowly stepping away from the machine gun, a small device gripped in her left hand. "Self-destruct is tied to this detonator."

The Major accepted the detonator and allowed his SMG to dangle from its sling while he took over the Lieutenant's position. He fought against his instincts to pull the trigger. Everything within him whispered that killing one more Cylon would be worth the sacrifice. But he knew that without understanding how the Cylons had gotten this far and made such larger versions, it would be a waste of lives, resources, and time.

So, he would wait until the engineer arrived and had pulled everything he could from the corpse of these Cylons. Then, he would ensure they all burned.

–
–

24 hours later…

"Major, I think you and your Marines can stand down," Radeka said, the tanned and rotund man's usually jolly face was serious for once. "It's not a Cylon. I don't know what it is, given we still can't read the frakking language, but it's not a Cylon. There's not a battery in the entire place. From what I can tell, it's a self-sustaining fusion reaction that gained the fuel it needed from the liquid in Corporal Fitz's urine. It'd be a Godsdamned miracle if I knew how the reactor was made. But until we have the language translated, I'm stuck with guesswork and figuring things out from components."

"So, it's not a threat?" Lezzhov asked, standing up from the chair he'd been resting in.

"I didn't say that, Major," Radeka sighed, pulling out a handkerchief and mopping up sweat. "Mind if I take a seat?"

The major simply gestured for the engineer to get in the chair he'd just vacated and waited for him to continue.

"Anyway, I cannot say that the machine is not a threat; there are weapons on it, and a nuclear fusion reactor powers it. While it seems that the shielding on all of them is sufficient, if there are any leaks in it, then it'll render any Tylium nearby inert, and that doesn't include the possibilities of an overload causing it to detonate.

"Major, this is a scientific breakthrough that I would love to examine after we've completed half a dozen other projects that are taking priority. Unfortunately, for all that this would benefit the colonies, it'll have to wait."

"So, keep Tylium stores and drunk Marines away from it, but there's no threat of them activating and attacking us?" Lezzhov asked for clarification.

"They require a pilot from what I can tell," Radeka shrugged. "None of them will move a single meter without someone behind the wheel. Just keep your Marines out of this building entirely and you'll be fine."

"Thank you," Lezzhov sighed in relief. "I'll take the self-destruct offline and go back to a routine guard rotation. Thank you."

"It was my pleasure, Major," Radeka grinned. "I look forward to examining these machines in more detail after my other projects are completed."

---

"It's a frakking self-sustained fusion reactor, and we're all just sitting around, trying to act as if this is ordinary!" Terry Groves slammed his fist on the conference room table, the sound echoing in the concrete room. "We should be trying to get this technology back to the colonies immediately! It would change life as we know it back there!"

"Because we don't know how it works or how to safely transport it back, yet," Han Vilok propped his booted feet on the table and leaned back. "Is it an amazin' discovery, you betcha. Amazing discoveries don't make a bit o' difference if you blow yourself up trying to show it to folks."

"We're not touching the ones on the bipedal machines until after we've figured out how the ones that power the city work," Radeka stated. "I believe the technology is much the same in both cases, but as Vilok put it. We cannot move it back to the colonies until we are certain it is safe to do so. This is a miracle, yes. Yet, it is also inherently dangerous. We are playing with technology that we have only theorized would work. Things that are still experimental in nature at the University."

"They ain't left the testing phase back home," Vilok chuckled. "Their shielding keeps failing, and they can't sustain it for more than a few seconds."

"Isn't that why we need to get it back home?" Groves asked. "To try and develop this into weapons to fight the Cylons with?"
"One big frak up and we potentially strand ourselves here," Radeka sighed. "We have our plans, we're going to stick to them. First, we get power to the entire city, or at least the parts that we're inhabiting. Then we look at the civilian vehicles. Their internal combustion engines seem to follow similar lines of thought to our own, and that should help us when we move into the more complex things. Such as the fusion reactors."

"Fine," Graves sat down in the conference room again. "But I'm putting it in official writing that I think sticking to the plan is a mistake. We should all be focusing on this reactor. Not trying to figure out why they were fighting in the first place."

"Your objections is noted," Radeka said. "Now, please. Assist Vilok with the power."

---

Two weeks later…

"We have updates," Commander Senner looked around at the four captains of the other vessels that made up his small fleet. Captain Chia was the third in command, as her Nike, an Orion-class, was the most apt to take command if the Daedelus were to be destroyed. Captain Phillips, Captain Jasper, and Captain Mao were the captains of the pair of Alert-class ships and the lone Defender-class.

"Did we finally get a translation working?" Captain Chia asked, her glasses pushed up on her nose as she glanced down at the reports. "I know that we were hoping for some sort of progress there."

"No," Senner shook his head. "Regrettably, they've yet to have any breakthroughs in that area."

"What we have figured out is that Cylons were not responsible for what happened here," Colonel Woullard interjected. "After a little scare with one of the larger Cylons, Major Lezzhov had them examined by some of the engineers working with Dr. Russell. They're not Cylons at all."
"Then what are they?" Captain Phillips asked.

"And what happened to the colony then?" Jasper agreed. "If the Cylons aren't responsible for the destruction, then what happened?"

"They're still working on that part," Woullard replied. "Until we can piece together the language, we really are in the dark as to anything beyond context clues. But, my guess and that of Russell is that it was some sort of Civil War. It's the only thing that really makes sense. The ships all look alike, the small arms do as well, and despite there being multiple examples of other languages, there's one common one in use throughout the entirety of their military hardware."

"So, we're stuck then," Chia sighed. "We can't do anything with the information we have until we translate the language, and we don't want to touch the technology that might be the most useful because if we screw it up, we'll have the potential to mess with our stockpiles of Tylium."

"Commander," the soft voice of Captain Mao silenced the talk around the table. "Would it be possible for me to take the Respite to the Colonies and deliver some of these fusion reactors we found for further study and to make our case to Fleet HQ for us to obtain further assistance?"

"I don't see why not at some time in the future," Senner replied. "However, it would leave us vulnerable in ways I don't want to be at the moment."

"Weakening the fleet wouldn't be the wisest choice at the moment," Woullard agreed. "Sure, the Cylons weren't the ones that did this colony in. But they probably received the same signal we did. And this place ain't covered by the treaty."

"We'll work things out with Dr. Russell," Senner said after a few minutes of thinking about it more. "See if we can get him to take one of our officers back with the civilian ships. Fleet HQ's going to want a debriefing on what we've found."

"As if they'd give us anything else," Captain Phillips said what was on everyone's mind. "They want us out of the way because we're standing in the way of the 'progress' that they want."

"Still, is it not worth it to try?" Mao asked, his lean face settling into his usual tight-lipped stare. "After all, nothing comes to those who do not ask in the first place."

"We'll go through the officers we have available and see who has the best chances," Senner said after a moment. "But we're not going to plan as if we're going to get more support from the Fleet or the Civilians. Dr. Russell doesn't think that the University will contribute more to the program than they've already promised."

"Until and unless we figure out how to turn this place into a profitable success, we're on our own out here," Captain Chia muttered. "I'll have my Raptors start looking for Tylium in the systems around us that we didn't inspect on the way in. If we can find even one place with the mines for it, we can probably get a refinery ship sent out."

"Now, onto other matters," Commander Senner changed the subject. "Major Lezzhov's Marines have set up some prefabricated structures in an area that seems to be a promising location for shore leave. There's a lake with potable water, the temperature is mild, and there are edible plants in the area as well. I'll need you to go through your rosters and get rotations sorted for shore leave while still leaving your ship's crewed enough for any attacks…"