When Two Worlds Collide (TGG - nBSG crossover) Completed.

[The Duchess of Zeon]

Chapter Ten


Rear Admiral Joshart, dressed in vacuum suit save for his helmet, which was doffed, revealing long hairs flexed down and dark crimson eyes, with his long hair—Taloran men didn't cut their hair anymore than the women did—of metallic blue falling down behind him, resolved into the display on the bridge of the Pegasus, where he could in turn see the human who was his opposite, Admiral Helena Cain.

“Admiral Cain, I believe?”

“That is correct. Your name..?”

“Rear Admiral Joshart. I'm acting commander of Taskforce 889.” A pause while they digested their respective positions, then he continued:

“Admiral, my compliments on your operation,” Joshart said, glossing over the mistiming. Though Fraslia had been furious about it in their continued conversation, he was inclined to give Cain the benefit of the doubt and assume that it had simply been a failure in coordination. Between two separate navies of two different species, that was quite believable, after all. And the diplomatic aspects of this operation are, I fear, worth more than eighty-three of our dead. An unfortunate reality. “However, some certain tactical matters must certainly be discussed..”

Admiral Cain seemed quite content with that. “Is your fleet capable of offensive operations, Admiral Joshart?”

“Quite. We're all fitted for long-range cruising.” The Admiral himself didn't have any problem with the prospect of a war with a minor group of rather nasty genocidaires, of course, but the question was the strength of the enemy.

“Then perhaps we should discuss what offensive measures should be taken next.”

“Ah. I'm afraid that won't be possible until we have a definite political agreement. Until then, we are limited to protecting your civilians and getting them clear of the zone of combat, and making sure that they are well-provisioned and their ships do not imperil them from the rigours of sustained cruising, Admiral. You will have to accompany us in this task, I fear, though we will of course provide you with resupply..”

“To cease offensive operations against the Cylons would be unacceptable. With a sufficient force of ships like your's we can drive them back handily, and work toward their total annihilation as the abominations that they are.” Cain was talking tough, but she was not in fact feeling as inflexible as her words made her sound. She was instead probing for the level of commitment from the Taloran Admiral.

“I'm afraid that would be impossible. These are just scouting forces, Admiral. A major fleet operation would require the commitment of at least a Dreadnought squadron, if not some major additional fleet elements,” Rear Admiral Joshart replied. And at once he realied he'd both surprised Cain and revealed something to her that she had previously not known.

“Admiral Joshart... Precisely how large is one of your dreadnoughts?”

“About three times the mass and nearly three times the heavy armament of this vessel, with the defensive armament and armour and shielding capacity vastly improved in turn by several times those figures,” he answered honestly. “We can send you specifications if you consent to an alliance; not otherwise, of course, for reasons of military security.”

Yet a ship like that might handily deal with three Basestars by itself, Cain thought, and for the first time she was numb with the prospects of what she had been thinking. A squadron would have to be, by the information provided by the Talorans, sixteen ships.. If one could dispatched... How many dreadnoughts do they have? A hundred? As many as we had Battlestars? Those ships alone might outgun the whole Cylon fleet four to one, or more.

“That's not my role,” Cain said at last, being careful in how far she went, for the moment. “Though, you will maintain the resupply of the fleet? That is the important thing. I will like to talk on operational affairs, and you can be referred to the President.. How much political authority do you have, Admiral?”

“Certainly.” Joshart's ears for a moment. It certainly seemed like Cain was taking a particular interest in the political side of things. “None. I'm only the acting commander of the Task Force. The Sector Admiral is already speaking with your President, Admiral.” I should have told her sooner, but I really don't want to let Tisara cause to many problems here. It's my job to prevent them, after all.

Cain frowned. “I would have expected that information to be conveyed sooner. Well, then, I would return to the fleet and speak with your commander in person about these important issues. Will you hold a forward defensive position here until such time as the details of our withdraw, should it take place, and our operations after that point, be exchanged and clarified between the civilian and military elements of both our peoples?”

“Until such a time as the civilian refugees proceed toward Taloran space and security, or else I receive orders to the contrary from my lawful superiours, Admiral Cain, I will endeavour to take a forward screening position, yes,” Joshart replied.

“Very good, Admiral. Cain out.” The transmission cut off, leaving the human Admiral to mull over the information presented to her. If it was even half true, then her initial hopes for human independence seemed throughly sunk. Then what can I do for my ship and my crew, if there seems no other success that can be achieved?

“Open up a transmission link to the Galactica,” Cain ordered after a moment's thought. This one, of course, was all audio. “Commander Adama?” She asked a moment later.

“Admiral?” His voice replied. “What may I do for you?”

“I want you to hold position, Commander Adama, with the Taloran Taskforce. I'm returning to the fleet to confer with President Roslyn and the overall Taloran Sector Admiral. You'll maintain aggressive viper patrols and a strong defensive stance to prevent any additional Cylon pursuers from launching further attacks, in conjunction with Admiral Joshart's forces, until such time as I issue you orders to the contrary.”

“Understood, Admiral. Are there any further instructions for us?”

“No, that's all. You can return our medics to the Pegasus at a later date; consider them on detached duty until that point.”

“Roger that.”

“Admiral Cain, over and out.” She knew what came next. “Plot a jump back to the fleet. It's time to meet the Taloran Sector Admiral.”


********* ********************** ************************* ***********


The J'u'crea-type assault craft docked somewhat delicately to the hull of the Colonial One, hanging with its lower fin folded up and wing-angles shifted to allow it to nestle more comfortably against the much larger ship. The universal umbilical equalized with the airlock, and from above, was opened. Then there was a loud pounding on the metal below, and the crewers of the Colonial One opened the airlock, stepped into it, and then unlocked the hatch above. It was spun open by the brute force of the person on the top, which was somewhat surprising, if the nature of the party was to be assumed...

But Captain Armenbhat was actually quite strong, despite her spindly and fragile appearance, and the hatch was screwed into unlocking position and swung down into the hull easily. The first down was the Archduchess Tisara Urami herself, dressed in an orange kilt-like skirt that reached modestly to just below her knees, with red lines across it forming intersecting triangles, thigh-high crimson boots, and a bright green shirt with a silver slash over it, and the cape now replaced by a bright fire red one. In defiance of the family tradition since Saverana I—which had duly spread to the other branches of the house--to abstain from wearing jewelry, she had a latinum choker set with a black opal around her neck, and the belt for her sword was woven leather interacted with bits of silver. Elegant gold inlay on the scabbard and the hilt and pommel completed the garish look, as if her dark seaweed green hair and mismatched eyes couldn't in and of themselves. The hair itself was done into a bun, then a braid, with the braid wrapped around the base of the bun once before being allowed to fall down her back, still long enough to reach her waist, and it all offset the intense paleness and queasy gray-green tinge of her skin.

She waited for Captain Armenbhat to reach the bottom of the ladder before proceeding. The Captain was also dressed out of uniform, in a long red skirt down to her ankles and above it a royal blue corset which shoved her cleavage up enough that it was vaguely visible as such, unlike the usual for a Taloran woman, and complimented by a metallic green blouse with a plunging neckline which created intersecting areas of blue and then green on her torso. The blouse was sleeveless, and instead of sleeves, the upper parts of her arms were shown, but not the lower parts, for she wore magenta opera gloves which went right up to her elbows, though they were fingerless, and seemed to be made out of silk with reinforcing bands of silver chain woven into it. More skin was shown, and the better for it, more alabaster than the translucent pale of the Archduchesses', though the usual off-colour gray-green inner tint of the skin, the healthy equivalent of the pink in a human's flesh, but very unpleasant to look at by human eyes, nonetheless made at least a passable show of beauty.

Ysalha wore no cape or other outer-garment, and her feet were clad in yellow clog shoes. Her blue hair was left wild and free and hung down, therefore, slightly further than the Archduchess', and her yellow eyes were bright and alert, and very curiously for a Taloran, on whom none of the humans had seen makeup before, lined with kohl. Her sword-belt was the same as the Archduchess', most interestingly, though the scabbard was modest wood inlaid with silver, and the hilt and pommel also only silvered. Curiously, neither of them adorned the ears, though by now Billy had figured out that it must have something to do with their apparent use in communication by the Talorans...

Though he scarcely noted that detail in being stunned by the two Taloran woman as they approached himself and President Roslyn just beyond the airlock. It took both of them a minute to get around the utterly garish display of the brightest colours possible in strange and discordant schemes which the two had draped themselves in, and took a moment longer to process the individual components. The Captain of the Colonial One was there and he only brought himself to speak when the Archduchess queried him:

“Permission to come aboard, Captain?” It was only then that the translator clipped to the opposite side of her belt from her scabbard was noted.

“Ah, granted, Your Serene Highness...”

The Archduchess frowned at him in response, however, and Roslyn, trying to mentally cope with the fact that her guests dressed like they were trying to induce seizures in people or blind them, managed to reply in explaining something she'd been warned about by Fraslia. “It is not the custom of our people to bow to anyone who is outside of the realm of our laws and history, for to our religion the Lords of Kobol have the first import, and only to them may we bow.”

“Ahhh...” The Archduchess' ears had flicked downward, but now came back up. “President Roslyn, then, I presume...?”

“Yes. You are the Archduchess Tisara Urami, then.” Laura couldn't help but notice that all the translation was being done by a small clip-on cylinder on the belt of the Archduchess. The engineers of the Archduchess' fleet had clearly been very busily at work based on Fraslia's communiques.

“That is correct. And this is my... koina... Ysalha Armenbhat, enjoying the courtesy title of Baroness Titangart.”

“Baroness,” Roslyn offered her hand, and it was accepted by the taller Taloran.

Billy, in the meantime, couldn't help but wondering what the meaning of the untranslatable word was. As he mused on that while Roslyn continued the introductions, his eyes abruptly seized on something interesting. Around the Archduchess' neck was that black choker set in the strange metal... He glanced back to the Baroness...

They're identical. They're both nobility... The prospect of trying to figure it out was a bit daunting, and he had to turn his attention to dipping his head very slightly as he'd been introduced. That done, Roslyn started to lead the group off, the Captain falling away, toward the council hall which she'd briefly and quietly appropriated for this dinner, the finest that the fleet could produce now that rationing was no longer so desperate with the stores the Jhammind had sent over, and the promise of more from the Pegasus when she returned from the fight. If she returned. But even if not, the fleet, it seemed, would survive—by the hand the Archduchess. And that importance of her's in mind, Roslyn treated them politely indeed as they went to sup.

It was Billy who noticed the smallest gesture between the two Talorans walking, out of the corner of his eye, which couldn't help fascinate him and confirm his suspicion of a few minutes prior. The Archduchess slipped her fingers, possessively yet affectionately, through the long blue hair of the Baroness, fingers brushing along the bare flesh of her shoulders, and an enigmatic smile on her lips for that trace of a moment that it lasted.

Koina—does it mean they're lovers? But that would violate any human Articles of War... She's definitely the Archduchess' subordinate. A brief pause in the mental process: But what if they're married!? To someone raised in a society whose laws were limited by the strict customs of the Sagittarons and Gemenons, it was a fascinating and thoroughly alien prospect, and he tried to think of a way that he could ask someone, without offending such high dignitaries as these two who walked together, patient and regal, and something strange and wild in the tension that seemed to quiver with their poised presence in the corridors.

The table laid out was small and cozy, and one of the mess crew was responsible for serving the dishes from a tray laid out by it to keep things warm. The Archduchess sat first and without waiting; a subtle challenge to Roslyn, perhaps, who immediately followed her. Billy and Ysalha, however, hesitated, even coming to glance at each other, uncertain of which should go first. “I yield to you, Sir,” the Captain offered graciously at last, and the comment brought a flicker of an expression to Tisara's lips, indiscernable to human emotion.

When the were both seated, Ysalha discretely gave Tisara several large pills, and the glass of water waiting for her proved useful in downing them, at which point she promptly turned her attention to the hot roll laid out on the table. There was only margarine to go with it, but there were no negative comments from the Archduchess, who understood the vagarities of space travel.

“The bootleg liquor in the fleet is very bad,” Roslyn began politely and informally, “But we do have a few bottles of private reserve left, if you'd like some..?”

“We all must make do with what is given to us,” Tisara answered, and a faint smile touched her lips. The woman seemed genuinely pleased by the circumstances.

“And you?” Roslyn asked Ysalha as the messhand started pouring for the Archduchess.

“As Her Serene Highness has, so shall I, also.”

“Of course,” Roslyn answered, nodding to the messhand so that he'd take note of the statement and make it a reality for the meal. Her attention then returned to the Archduchess. “Your Serene Highness,” she had a sense that Tisara would not like to immediately get to business, and besides, she finally had a chance to indulge her educator's curiousity for details of Taloran society and the homeworlds. “Would you tell me about your homeworld, and the places you have lived?”

“But of course, Madame President,” the Archduchess answered, pleased for the chance to be engaged in civil and relaxed conversation with someone after so long enduring a cruel exile with only her faithful Ysalha at her side, and then, for a long while, not even her. “Let me begin with the surface of Talora Prime, where I was born, which I love dearly... And which I have not seen in nineteen of our years, and more than sixty of the years of the human homeworld.” Her ears dropped back a bit. “So forgive me if there is, sometimes, a tinge of melancholy.”

“That's a very long deployment, Admiral. Are such things normal in the Taloran navy?”

“No, but they have seen fit to retain my services rather continuously,” Tisara answered with a wane smile, before sipping from her glass of wine. “At any rate, my home..”

“I'm sorry about that. Don't let me interrupt you again.” Though, in fact, Roslyn very dearly wished to know precisely why all the Talorans thought Earth was the homeworld of the human species.

“I won't,” Tisara assured her, and then began. “I was born, Madame President, in one of the Palaces of the Crown Princess of Midela, my mother at the time, in the wing of the Sea Palace at Land's End in the far north. It is a windswept granite rock with a great fortress built upon it, a hundred and ten kilometers north of the capital of Ulanci. It is only occupied by the Crown Princess in the summer, of course, when the climate is warmer and more gentle, and it was there my mother chose to give birth. It was a long birthing, I'm told; she was in labour for two days,”

Roslyn tried not to wince, reminding herself that might not be very serious by Taloran standards. They had not covered reproductive biology at all...

“And,” Tisara continued, “I was somewhat large as a child. Curious, that.” She declined to elaborate. “My first year of sentience began some three years later, a bit earlier than average, and I suppose I was a clever girl..”

Billy couldn't resist at that point. “Your Serene Highness... A first year of sentience? Could you explain the concept to us? We don't have something in our own biology, or society.”

“It's the first year at which a baby is capable of thinking,” Tisara replied. “I'm surprised the Baroness Fraslia has not had a chance to discuss these things. But at any rate, with Talorans—the children are born fully formed, and are quickly able to run, rather than with humans—but our minds do not develop until much later. Around the age of ten to twelve in Terran years. I understand that it is possible for the brain of a human to be so large at birth because of the broad hips of the human female. Our physiology does not include such an adaptation.”

It's a bit startling to realize precisely how alien they are, Roslyn mused inside a she heard the surprising revelation. For all the similarities, they don't even have childhoods much like our's. Anything like them, really. I wonder how they're educated? She couldn't help but vocalize that question: “What's the education procedures, then, Your Serene Highness? Human children would have a.. Tremendous advantange.”

“We develop much more precociously in the brain once we begin to, and so a very disciplined and intense approach is required to rapidly transfer as much information as possible to the child while teaching the stern realities of discipline,” Tisara replied. “I don't know anything about the raising of human children, but I do know that we push the mental and physical faculties of our children to the limit to inoculate them for the rigours of life.”

That sounds downright brutal... But, again, who are we to say what's brutal and what's not for Talorans? Yet she seems to think it was unpleasant, herself. “Do you appreciate it?”

“It's necessary,” Tisara answered negligently, her expression seeming to suggest that she'd rather not discuss the subject. “As a child of a Great Queen, I had the most rigorous education of them all, following with little modification the works of the Great Queen In'ghara.”

“In'ghara was one of the three daughters of Valera, yes?”

“Yes. She defeated the foundress of our own line, Fileya, and the eldest sister, Taradrua, and exiled them. Our own holdings were built up in the roughest circumstances imaginable during Fileya's long exile, to form one of the great three houses of our people, the third of the Three Sisters, but also, until recent times, always the most triumphant and redoubtable. We never lost our capital, as the other branches did from time to time in their histories.” Tisara's voice burned with pride.

“What was your.. Sentient childhood like, then?”

“Ah, wonderful. Effavsur and Rostok riding came first, and rhetoric and the classics. We were rigorously trained for every moment of our lives, but with it came a stunning chance for beauty, up there in the northern highlands of the Wisam peninsula. Then my Aunt, the reigning Great Queen, died without heirs and my mother, her younger sister, succeeded her. We were moved to the Ilunam palace in the city.

“You should really see a Taloran city sometime, Madame President. They are most incredible things. We build hundreds or thousands of stories high, and deep, and most of the transport is in elevators rather than horizontal. Public transportation of some degree or another provides connections from each building to the other, from sealed walking tubes feeding progressively into people-movers and then subways. In the shadows of the lowest streets, you can buy every gaudy thing and see every sort of display, and vendors sell things as they did thousands of years before; the parks are filled with markets and auction stands, and then these, too, drift away into sculpted areas of peaceful contemplation.

“You can see a young girl dance herself silly with her own intense energy, or two men haggling over the price of meat. To think, on that—thousands of years of progress, but we have maintained the old ways enough that coin still matters for so much, and people can still negotiate over things fairly. We have not ironed all the kinks out of society; we have the charm of the unusual. Our workers can still take pride in their works...

“But forgive me. The glories of escaping off into the city, sometimes, incognito, are not so great as those of the countryside, at least to me. There are those who say that the nobility is biased in this regard.. And perhaps so. But I love nothing more than an unspoilt forest, or a tract of desert which has not been brought to farmland, through which Yatila plod slow and strong. There is a peace there, under the white-green light of the sun, a power in the wind and the sand and the cold dry air, which cannot be matched otherwise. The fields—I love them to, but more in the warm summer months when the grains are growing and the air leaves you feeling lethargic, to hot to bother with much to do.

“We have so much more natural land on our world, and this I prefer, especially in the bracing months of the long winter when one must be active to stay warm. Hunting wild Arisk and Rivaln in the northern mountains of Midela Colenta... How could there by a finer challenge in the whole of the universe?

“I have found that there is nothing better than the power of the hunt. It releases the savage nature inside of one...” Tisara smiled there, “but at the same time it sates it, and leaves one feeling generous. And there is nothing more generous than the sort of thing that I have done before, when hunting with my friends: To surprise a family of tenant farmers on some great estate near which we have just hunted, or are still pursuing the game, and in exchange for a meal and their beds for a night, and some damage to the fields they work from the charge of our rostok—to exchange those small inconviences for a bag of rialas, tossed on the doorstep the next day? To give them the memory of the high nobility having shared their house for a night? I like nothing more.”

“It seems very rustic,” Roslyn confessed, somewhat entranced by the poetic language that Tisara used, and not really aware of how she was saying altogether very little concrete. Whatever else one might say about the Archduchess, she was actually a master of such events as this... Quiet and companionable dinners were her chance to make herself appear good in the eyes of all, and her talent was fully used at that moment.

“But tell me, then, how you came to such a distant posting, from such wealth and casual power.”

“Ahhh.” Tisara looked the part, fondly in thought, and then told an utter lie, which Ysalha obediently did not blink at, mostly because it was wrapped in truths, and also because she knew of the importance of such lies: “Madame President, I went to the university, and it was there I joined a dueling society.. You can see the scars on my face, of course, from our endless competitions. But I also met my dear Ysalha there. Then we, as nobility, both went on to the Imperial Fleet Academy.

“But rather after our graduation, I am afraid to say that news was released by an.. Indiscreet soul,” and here Ysalha curiously flushed, “That we were involved with each other. Since she is not of a sufficient emanation for me to marry, the relationship was frowned upon, and by our refusal to part, we have been exiled to the outer rim.”

So koina does mean lover! Billy thought rather triumphantly, or at least something very similar. Otherwise he knew the virtues of silence in such rarefied air.

“Does that not imply that your relationship is... One of a subordinate and her superiour, involved in an extramarital relationship.. Which by our standards,” she tried to phrase it delicately. “Would not be permissable between two military officers?”

“Oh, it isn't for us either,” Tisara answered and then smiled charmingly. “But some rules can be bent for the second daughter of the Great Queen of Midela Colenta.”

So she admits to some privilage... But it seems a very innocent one, the way she makes it out. “What could compel your people to exile you in a way that seems so very cruel to you, but still make allowances for you when you serve?”

“I am expected to serve the state and with it the All-Highest Empress,” Tisara answered, “And so they found a place where I could be of use. It is my duty... And though they don't approve, they won't halt me from doing my duty.”

“I'm afraid we simply don't have such a concept,” Roslyn answered. “It seems like it is more important than the.. Moral condemnation associated with your love.” She was aware of a certain sanction in some variants of the faith of the Lords of Kobol, that homosexuality would be accepted and protected... But most orthodox religionists in the Colonies did not approve, and the political side of her mind was churning over the issue... “At any rate, these... Emanations? They.. Don't really seem to have something to do with your both being of the same sex,” she concluded bluntly, and with a faint flush.

“Oh, there would be nothing wrong with that!” Tisara answered very energetically, ears up. “If only my poor Ysalha were raised to some suitable rank. No, no, it was all over rank, all over blood emanation from Valera. We of the Imperial Valerian Dynasty, in all branches, are forbidden from marrying all but each other, and the very highest nobility, lest we dilute the blood of blood of Valera, lest the sacred lineage be impunged.” In some discordant way, Tisara even believed what she was saying; she could not live without doing so. But any Taloran would have seen her as a base hypocrite.. None were here.

“That is the full nature of the problem. After all, were you not told of the Romance of Valera and Taliya?”

“Actually, no. I take it that this refers to the Valera?”

“Yes,” Tisara answered. “I'm surprised that Fraslia did not tell you, Madame President.”

“She seemed to avoid any discussions of religions, Your Serene Highess. Understandably, as monotheism causes us some concerns...”

Both the Talorans' ears perked straight up, and Tisara most assuredly spoke for them both: “Why, you do not hold to belief in a single, omnipotent God?”

“I..” Roslyn started to begin her explanation she'd been mulling over of Colonial religion, when an officer from the bridge entered and quietly approached her. She leaned back and let him whisper to her, and then she straightened, looking over to Tisara:

“My apologies, Archduchess, but the Battlestar Pegasus has returned.”

[The Duchess of Zeon]

Okay, that's it for updates until after I'm back post-surgery, hopefully quite soon, but I figured I'd get this one out anyway as it may be a bit.

[pieman3141]

Seems strangely silent here...

More good stuff from Duchess! I like how you've done your own take on the whole 'BSGers meet Earthers' cliche, by having them meet the conquerors of Earth.

[Dargos]

Great story Dutchess.

If I may, one very minor thing that personally bugs me. Cain said "Over and out" . It should have been just "out". Just a me being a Proper Radio Etiquette Nazi.

[The Duchess of Zeon]

Chapter Eleven


The return of the Pegasus had an immediate positive effect on the morale of the fleet. It also interrupted dinner with the Archduchess Tisara, and made a delay in negotiations important, at any rate, if the Archduchess stalled in any way herself in granting favourable terms. Roslyn could now reliably negotiate, after all, their combined forces having won a victory and the military's chief representative here. She had no intention of conceding their independence in the slightest way.

On returning to the table where the Talorans were finishing dinner, Roslyn approached that matter politely. “Archduchess?”

“Ah, yes?” She looked up from her food, dabbing her napkin on her lips, something that Taloran nobles did at regular intervals even when they didn't need to, and having seemed to have genuinely enjoyed themselves. Even Billy looked happy, despite having had to amuse an immensely powerful individual and her lover for a good twenty minutes. “I was just telling your aide here the epic of Valera and Taliya...”

“That's unfortunate. I'd like to hear it myself sometime,” Roslyn offered. “But at any rate, I have good news for you. The Jhammind survived the battle with some moderate damage only. Your fleet arrived to witness a victory, and the Galactica and Pegasus were nearly untouched; the Galactica is aiding with damage control aboard the Jhammind at the moment.”

“Very good. I trust that the traditions of the service have been upheld, and thank you for your extension of aid to our cruiser,” Tisara answered, seeming quite unconcerned by the prospect of casualties.

That was disconcerting to Roslyn, who thought they would be an interest of the alien noblewoman, but.. Really, don't assume things about them. There may be some reason for this. Or they simply don't see life as we do.. Which would be very problematic, to put it mildly, and ominous. Yet there was no experience with aliens which might or might not suggest otherwise.

“I've asked for Admiral Cain to come here, Archduchess, so that we can proceed to discuss the particulars of our situation. With the threat of immediate pursuit ended, the support of the fleet and the political interrelations between our respective States need to be addressed.”

Tisara stretched, slightly. “I can arrange for the indefinite supply of the fleet, really. It is a very minor matter, you have a population less than the crews of four dreadnoughts. The main issue is getting the civilians away from the zone of hostilities. We can arrange for refugee camps on an existing human planet in the Empire, of course. It would be a small matter to accomadate the number of people that you have in the fleet, and, well, the ships you're using are clearly not designed for sustained inhabitation.”

Laura couldn't help but feel a flush of anger rising in her. “We're not refugees to be placed in camps, Archduchess. We're a free people with a self-sustaining society, and we should have some place to go that can be our's. Do you have the authority to grant us this?”

Tisara seemed to frown and spoke something that took a moment to translate. “Madame President, let me make it clear. This area was intended for Taloran colonization... Are you simply asking us to give you an uninhabited planet or provide you with artificial colony for your people?”

Roslyn decided to dare it all at that point. “Yes, Your Serene Highness. Yes I am. I want our people to have their own world, as an independent power, as they fully deserve to be.”

“There's a world just coreward of here,” Tisara began in response, measuring her words. “It's a vicious jungle and a worthless dungheap, in my opinion. I've been on the surface during the surveying process. I could give it to you—it's only one of two naturally habitable worlds close to this reach of space—and I ought to, since it's the worst of the two. But there's another one, further out of your line of retreat, which is much nicer. Cosier, even, a bit cool by human standards but just fine by Taloran ones. I'd consider it.. Quite a gift to adjudicate a treaty with you providing for its transfer.

“But it preserves the lines of communication of my fleet to what will certainly be a new front, which will pass through this other, closer, but worse world. So consider yourself fortunate, Madame President.. As I'm prepared to negotiate the giving of the better world to you. What do you have to offer us in return?”

“Twelve habitable planets rightfully part of our Confederacy, after their whole surviving populations and any constructs on them have been removed and transported to our new homeworld,” Roslyn answered rather quietly, and then added: “And the homeworld of our people, Kobol, if all the holy sites upon it are protected and declared off-limits to your people for all time, and under our care.”

“Kobol is on the line of communication to the twelve colonies, and they to the most distant habitable world I fancy to be in this galaxy, the Cylon homeworld?”

“Yes.”

“Of course we'd annex the whole region,” Tisara replied, “but the religious sites will be protected, by your own people if necessary; we'd be quite conscientious about such things. The land could, in fact, remain legally your territory. We're quite able to deal with dividing up planets politically between multiple jurisdictions.

“But we'd expect some binding treaties. And I warn you that I cannot enforce the terms we agree to; they would but be a preliminary proposal which must be ratified by the Empress. There will be considerable pressure to guide your whole nation into the position of an Imperial fiefdom or at least a protectorate.”

“We have no lords to swear fealty to the Empire, and no interest in being a part of it... That could only lead to negative consequences.” As Roslyn finished, though, she recoiled somewhat at the expression on the Archduchess' face.

“You aren't in any position, Madame President,” Captain Armenbhat interjected smoothly and politely, “to make threats of resistance. You have seen the full strength of our squadron... And we have countless others behind it. The immense kindness of Her Serene Highness in giving you a planet we have claimed... Does her little service at home, when we are already unwelcome there. We are going on a limb, as I believe the human expression is, for you.”

Laura stifled a response for a moment. She couldn't tell if Armenbhat was interjecting for the sake of calm or as a calculated insult to her in, perhaps, the Archduchess subtly delegating her to a subordinate. On the other hand, they were lovers, and perhaps Armenbhat had just finished some unspoken thoughts of the Archduchess'.

“Alright. I understand where you're coming from. But I hope you'll work to avoid that possibility, which could cause plenty of misfortune for all of us.”

“I will work to avoid it,” the Archduchess replied affiably... “But I did not mean to imply that this was simply a gift. I'd like something else from you.”

It raised Laura's hackles, metaphysically speaking, to look at the alien, speaking alien words, and wonder at just what the translation concealed, or misinterpreted. “What else to do want?”

“Something personal, for myself and my dear Captain here.”

“We have little with which to oblige such refined tastes.”

“Ahh, but you have already shown me the height of civility, Madame President. And it's a small matter.” She tiled her head, ears proudly up. “Make me the supreme commander, ah, Generalissimo, of your combined military forces, on a permanent appointment, and allow me to make the same for Captain Armenbhat, to the position of Chief of the General Staff, and give us extensive lands on your new homeworld, suitable for our lifestyle.”

There are so many objections to that request that I don't know where to begin! Laura felt a bit overpowered by that moment, and decided that the conversation really needed to stop. She wasn't aware of how she could evaluate a request which was wrong at every level of her values systems, so wrong that it seemed that the Archduchess must be looking at it with an utterly different perspective beyond her immediate comprehension. They are truly alien to us, regardless the similarities.

“Forgive me, that I can't answer such a major question at once, Archduchess.. Though I must confess it is unusual to me... You are an officer of your own country's military.”


“As I would remain. I cannot violate my oaths to Her Serene Majesty the Empress, but within that limit you'd have my full service.”

“Ahh..” And this works because you know when you can't trust them? It sounds common here, but... She shook her head. “I'm going to have to consider that for a while, Archduchess. Now, if you'll forgive me, I wish to see to Admiral Cain... I'd like for her to meet with you and for all of us to discuss operational matters in more detail. Can you stay aboard the Colonial One at present?”

“Do you have quarters prepared for us?”

“Ah.. Space is very limited,” Roslyn decided against explaining to them that there was literally no spare room. Especially after having pressed their expectations to the limit as things stood. But... “As honoured guests, however, I'll give you my own quarters. They're small and cozy, as I've been trying to set an example to the whole fleet on space-saving measures.. But they should be quite comfortable for the two of you. The bed is long enough, for instance..”

Captain Armenbhat seemed to turn a sort of gray-green, which didn't seem healthy but clearly was normal, and Tisara smiled quite vaguely and folded her hands delicately upon the table.. And then consciously reached over, taking one of the taller woman's, and folding it into her own. “Thank you, Madame President. You are showing a considerable kindness to us, when we have been gone from civilization for so very long. I assume you'll have us meet with Admiral Cain tomorrow, when you've had a chance to confer with her yourself?”

“Yes, and then a meeting with the Quorum of the Twelve immediately afterwards. They are our representative legislative body, and they must vote on any initial agreements that we strike,” Laura replied.

“They have the power to control the ratification of treaties?” The Archduchess Tisara looked surprised by that.

“Yes, it's very important for us, though a relatively new field of diplomacy for the Confederacy. But they were de facto given that power in the negotiations with the Cylons. They certainly have the right to that same approval and oversight in these negotiations as well.”

“I understand, though I confess giving a legislature so much power is utterly alien to us.”

“You will have to learn to respect it if you wish to serve this government...”

Tisara's brow twitched faintly. “Madame President, I keep my oaths no matter what. No Taloran noble would ever break one. It is inconceivable to us.”

“I believe you. We are all having our perspectives broadened by these encounters between our very different peoples, however, Your Serene Highness.. And I hope that you take some time to consider the matters that such exchanges have raised amongst us.”

“I will, in time. For the moment, however, if you would excuse me and my koina for the evening, such as it is..? It has been truly lovely talking and dining with you, Madame President, and I hope for many more such meetings in the future, but we had a hard run out here. The Orelyost was pushed to the limit, and she did well for a ship with a poor reputation with stripping her gravitic impellers, and it was a strain on the whole squadron, myself included.. But especially my Chief of Staff.”

“Of course. I'll send someone to clear out my room, if you'll wait in the ship's saloon for a moment...” She got up to lead them there personally, and left Billy standing in the room rather quizzically musing on what he'd just heard.

After they'd left, he commented to the air: “You know, I just think I witnessed an alien noblewoman explain why she was more interested in sex with her girlfriend than worrying about a major diplomatic initiative.” Chuckling, he headed back to his quarters, stopping to pick up some files for the President that needed to be worked on.. Which delayed him just long enough to get a very annoying surprise. The door to his cabin was locked. He buzzed the entry comm, and a very familar and thoroughly authoritative voice answered:

“Oh, sorry, Billy. I forgot to tell you, but since I gave my suite to the Talorans, I'm borrowing your's for the night. I'm sure you can find someone else to room with...”


********** *************************************** ****************


“Welcome aboard, Commander Adama,” the Baroness Istarlan offered her hand and bowed effusively in a gesture of respect the other captain did not really warrant from a noblewoman. The bay was still being used for damage control, and the sight was impressive, and grim.

“Thank you kindly, Commander Fraslia. I'm sorry that the situation had to reach this state, and quite understand why you didn't want to muster personnel for a formal greeting..”

“And thank you for understanding.” The somewhat gray skin of the Taloran commander flushed vaguely and she expressively shifted her yellow eyes toward the DC centre. “We're actually wrapping things up here. We've done about all that we can do, except wielding some patches of armour plate over the damaged areas, which have all be contained and cut off from the rest of the ship in systems architecture terms... Those who will live, have been stabilized.”

A stiff nod. “My condolences on the behalf of my ship, Commander. You saved plenty lives of our's, Plenty of them, and at a grave cost to yourselves.”

“Your condolences are accepted, as certainly the Lord of Justice heard them. But you came so unobtrusively for another reason, I imagine, when protocol suggests you should be with Rear Admiral Joshart..” A wry sort of flattered smile was offered as the Taloran and the human began to walk together out of the bay, left alone save for the acknowledgements as they traveled through the ship...

“Sickbay, yes... I take it you're already leading me there?”

“That's correct, Commander Adama.”

“Thank you. I did want to see them for myself. And Lane Ishay...” A chuckle. “And thank the doctor who worked on all three of them.”

Fraslia seemed in a better mood at the conversation. “Your medic, Lane Ishay, did a very good job in bad circumstances in helping with the two surgical procedures. It is a pity about her leg, but that will heal fast enough under our care, with Doctor Ghimalia overseeing them all—that's the doctor you wish to meet, I imagine.”

“Yes. She's worked on humans before, I take it?”

“A mixed race crew, so she had special xenophysiology and xenobiology classes for it, and some anatomical experience, yes. A young doctor, she entered on a service-for-education agreement, as I remember..”

“We had payment plans for college as part of our service benefits here, also. But they're usually for enlisted personnel, and they only attend after service.”

“Ah, yes, that is quite different. All college students.. Are automatically considered officer material in the Taloran Star Empire.”

“That's an interesting way of looking at it. Officers are.. Very specialized for us. How do you handle crewing?”

“Maritime conscription,” Fraslia answered, and seeing the look on Adama's face continued on to provide an explanation: “The crewers of regular civilian star vessels are required to serve a period in the Starfleet. That way we get them already trained for starship operations, making the additional military training much simpler to inoculate in them. Terms of service are usually two Taloran years. It also means that all of our civilian ships are largely staffed with crewers who have military experience, making it easy for us to draw on a large manpower pool in wartime, and to effectively discipline convoys and other civilian ship operations during periods of military necessity. Most of the officers of civilian ships are, for that matter, navy officers on half-pay.”

“Half-pay?”


“Given no duties and no assignments, but liable to receive orders at any time. Officers are never, as such, reservists in the Taloran system. Instead they are always active-duty, half-pay without assignment, until given a posting, at which point we're elevated to full pay, of course, as we're assigned duties. I've spent almost two decades on half pay before until I accrued enough seniority.”

“It must have been boring for you.” It was an awkward attempt at conversation and he knew it, but there was not much he could say to someone he had let down like he'd been forced to with Fraslia.

“Not really. One keeps busy when one has a country to run back home. My younger sister normally handles those duties when I'm gone, of course.” Fraslia had a rather fond look at the moment, and she briefly forgot the situation of her ship. But no commander's heart could linger long from it...

“You pushed her into coming, didn't you?”

“Yes. How did you know?” Even the normally grim and laconic Adama was somewhat impressed by that observation.

“She didn't trust me, and I think she wanted the ship eliminated because of the Cylons. And in hoping that whomever else came would be more malleable. Unfortunately, she might be right there.. Even without the demise of the Jhammind. Or she may be very, very wrong, to the detriment of us all.” Fraslia seemed to be wanting to share something, but hesitant in actually doing so..

So Adama obligingly prompted her: “This Admiral, the Archduchess Tisara Urami. You seem to have a poor opinion of her, Commander. I know that I'm pushing against your duties as an officer under her commander...”

“She is a tyrant, a sadist, and a pervert!” Fraslia flushed and turned away. “Forgive me. I shouldn't have said that, Commander, though it's all true. The Archduchess Tisara Urami is a.. She should be one of the most powerful people in the whole Empire but instead she's commanding a distant expanse of almost uninhabitable wasteland, barely worth us even bothering with before I discovered your convoy.

“Out here, beyond the human territories, there is very little. Earth is already near the edge of the galactic arm... You are just further and further out from Earth in turn, on the very edge of the galaxy itself. She was placed out here precisely to keep her from causing problems with foreign nations. And now she is in charge of the negotiations. Probably until someone with superiour diplomatic powers, and an Admiral who can outrank her, are both sent.

“She is persona non grata on Talora Prime. She will never leave this sector, if our government has its way, unless she wishes to languish improvished and forgotten. Her life is here. Her and her mistress... Who serves as her own Chief of Staff. Nobody can even be bothered to enforce the service regulations against her as long as she is content with her position here.

“Mind you, she is very courageous and intelligent, and the Baroness Titangirt, her lover, is an excellent strategist and between the two of them they will certainly excellently persecute a war against the Cylons if that is the course of things. Because of the intense dislike for her, not only luck and birth were required for her to rise this far, but also genuine skill. But she's driven crews to mutiny before—which is almost unheard of in recent centuries--and her desires are unnatural.

“You condemn homosexuality that strongly?”

“Wha..? Oh, no, not that at all!” Fraslia's eyes were wide and her expression filled with shock. “Though it's not a personal taste of mine or any of my family or my officers, it's quite legitimate in our religious tradition. The Sword of God herself loved Taliya, her first and finest General, and they kissed on Taliya's deathbed.. No, no, it's not that. It's that... The Archduchess has certain unnatural sexual desires which she inflicts on the Baroness Titangirt, who.. Is similarly deviant in that she willingly desires and submits to this behaviour...” Fraslia was flushed in the sickly gray-green Taloran way, though with her skin already grayish she must have been very embarrassed for it to show up as noticeably as it did.

“A sadist,” Adama repeated knowingly, guessing at what the rest of Fraslia's embarrassed explanation had led to. “Don't worry about it anymore, Commander. I understand what you're speaking of, I believe. Enough, anyway.” He frowned. “Unfortunately such behaviour is not explicitly condemned by any law of our government, though plenty of people would find it immoral in the extreme.. And might even be surprised that you allow her to serve as an Admiral and haven't forced her to resign. Let alone to keep her mistress at her side. It could be a political issue for us, as we have some very deeply religious people in the fleet. Consider that a warning. The same goes, bluntly, for the fact that their relationship is homosexual.”

“The warning is taken, and I'll convey it privately to Admiral Joshart at some point,” Fraslia replied. “Hn.. It is unfortunate that we must work behind our superiours' backs like this, but the situation must surely be kept stable, Commander, and for that you have my word...”

“And mine, also.” The promise came readily at this point. “You're right, I don't trust Admiral Cain at all. No more than you trust the Archduchess, and possibly less. She is unstable, and she has turned at least some of her crew into sadists through what she did to her Cylon prisoners. One might level the charge against her directly, and I can only question what the two of them could come up with together..

“Make no mistake, I intend to preserve the independence and governance of my people, Commander, and if a conspiracy is hatched against that purpose...”

“You will have my help in disrupting it,” Fraslia affirmed. “We are not such a people as to try to forcibly annex others without cause, and you have given us no cause whatsoever. I will do my best, within the limitations of my oath to Her Serene Majesty the All-Highest Empress.”

“Then we have something we can work with, Commander.”

The two had arrived at sickbay. No more words needed to be said. Fraslia simply went forward, searching through the room until her eyes fell upon a young Taloran woman in surgical garb, and half that stripped off now in exhaustion to reveal the jumpsuit below, slim even by the standards of their people, taller even than Fraslia, with exotically white hair flowing wavily down to her knees, and bleached, hauntingly translucent skin which showed her veins and hints of more below in an almost sickening way.... And metallic eye sockets holding glowing red ocular scanners. Adama shuddered when he saw them.

“This is Doctor Ghimalia,” Fraslia said quite significantly.

“I hope my appearance is not an issue,” the Doctor said with a gentle sort of smile on pallid lips, ears politely downward-facing and forward. “But I suffer from albinism, which explains most of it, and the cybernetic eye replacements deal with the loss of vision common in albinos, which explains the rest of it. I'm the one who dealt with all three of your humans... The two Cylon prisoners and Medic Ishay.”

Adama forced himself to nod politely. “Thank you for that, Doctor. I'll confess that we're not at all used to cybernetic enhancements among our people and they carry strong overtones of our Cylon enemies. But clearly your's come from some very considerable need, and I apologize for staring. It was just not something I'd expected.”

“That's not a problem at all, Commander. I've dealt with fellows who have the same problem... And no redeeming qualities.. Before. Sentiment for the United Terran Homeland Party still runs high on Earth, and they also dislike cybernetics.”

“You've been to Earth, then?” Adama focused in more on the doctor as Fraslia stepped politely aside.

“Oh yes, I had my cross-species specialization training in homo sapiens with Imperial College London's faculty of medicine. I lived on Earth for a bit more than a whole Earth year, the whole time in a little flat in South Kensington by the school... It's a charming city, so much more flat and sprawling than even Valeria, let alone Ulasnost on my homeworld where I grew up... But, ah, you wouldn't know much about such places. Forgive me, Commander.”

“It's quite alright. You get along well with humans, I take it?”

“Oh, always! And your food is very good. The English have several excellent traditional dishes, which I've actually learned to make equivalents of with Taloran ingredients. Donair Kebabs, Curry, fish and chips... Traditional English cuisine is quite unique.” The lack of eye expression was mitigated by the energetic movement of her ears. “Do you want to see the patients?”

“That's what I'm here for, Doctor.”

“Right this way, then... They're actually all doing very well. Lane has been trying to get up and help... But she'll be down for several days..”

“Only several days?” No surprise their med tech is better, too..

“Yes, would you like me to tell you about the healing techniques used..?”

Fraslia was grinning to herself as Ghimalia led Adama back into sickbay. Poor fellow, after a few hours with her... But they really needed to see someone who had lived on Earth before, so it's all good in the end. Now if Her Serene Highness can just avoid thoroughly screwing things up...

[The Duchess of Zeon]

Yes, that chapter was finished before surgery and I just waited until I'd recovered enough to edit it and post it; I'm not some kind of superhuman.

I hope everyone is enjoying the story very well, though there may be a delay of some days before the next chapter. I suppose it will give others a chance to catch up. Thanks, all.

[pieman3141]

I'm chuckling at how the doctor sees donairs and curries as "English." It's like sushi being considered British Columbian/Californian, or something.

Onto other things: Hooray! Another update!

[The Duchess of Zeon]

I'm chuckling at how the doctor sees donairs and curries as "English." It's like sushi being considered British Columbian/Californian, or something.

Well, she comes from a very alien civilization, obsolete, and did not much have context to her experiences on Earth.

Onto other things: Hooray! Another update!

Thank you kindly. We'll see about perhaps yet another on Monday, as I've recovered enough to write.

[Coalition]

Thank you kindly. We'll see about perhaps yet another on Monday, as I've recovered enough to write.

Get well first, then write. Otherwise, you'll look back on what you've written, and wonder 'what the **** was I thinking'.

Very good chapter so far, and hopefully Billy finds some place to sleep (sofa?). Nice that Adama and Istarlan are getting along, hopefully others can take their advice. Of course the two might be getting along only to thwart their superors' plans, but that can be answered in another chapter.

[The Duchess of Zeon]

Get well first, then write. Otherwise, you'll look back on what you've written, and wonder 'what the **** was I thinking'.

Oh, I'm off the happy pills now. Mind you I wish I weren't, but...

Very good chapter so far, and hopefully Billy finds some place to sleep (sofa?). Nice that Adama and Istarlan are getting along, hopefully others can take their advice. Of course the two might be getting along only to thwart their superors' plans, but that can be answered in another chapter.

The question of whether or not Adama and the Baroness Istarlan can succeed in keeping whatever bad things may happen when Caine and Tisara Urami meet from happening is one that will be answered soon enough, but there's another factor, also, which is the response in the Imperial capitol, which will receive the first of the Archduchess' reports soon enough.

[The Duchess of Zeon]

Chapter Twelve



“Your Serene Grace, I present to you Admiral Helena Cain, supreme commander of all Colonial military forces,” President Roslyn said, a bit uncomfortably, as she gestured toward the short and long-haired, cold-looking woman standing in front of the conference table. She who looked understandably annoyed at the prospect of having to spend the entire meeting looking up at the immense height of the Talorans.

“And to you, Admiral,” Roslyn said next, “I present Admiral the Archduchess Tisara Urami, commander and military governor of the spinward colonization sector of the Taloran Empire that we are currently in. And with her, her Chief of Staff, Captain Armenbhat.”

“Admiral,” Tisara observed, sizing up her effective counterpart.

“Archduchess,” Cain answered, trying the unfamilar word on for size; there was no equivalent in her own language and that meant mastering the Taloran, which was dependent on tones. She did not sit when the others did, but instead braced herself with her hands against the back of a chair, content to stand for the whole meeting.

It yielded some grudging respect from Tisara, who was hardly self-indulgent of pleasure, save for the sadistic perversions which had banished her for life to the outmarches. “We have been discussing arranging for the provision of a colony world to your people, for the purpose of securing the refugees of this humanitarian catastrophe. What's the status of your military vessels, Admiral?”

“Two battlestars fighting fit, though the Galactica has only a half compliment of Vipers, but we're bringing it up fast,” Cain answered, knowing better than to prevaricate. “Other than that we just have a single lightly armed communications ship in the fleet. That's all I can offer you for joint operations.” She paused for a moment. “Do you have any more of those battlecruisers?”

“No, I'm afraid not,” Tisara answered, and that was, certainly, a genuine answer. “Four battlecruisers, four light carriers, and a single old system defence battleship for support to our dockyards. Which I can bring forward in an urgent situation, mind you. It would be useful against these Cylons. Plenty of smaller cruisers, though. What do you have in mind, Admiral?”

“Joint operations against the Cylons, of course.”

“Those aren't my prerogative,” Tisara answered, and then held up a hand to forestall apparent protests. “Unless you're prepared to sign arrangements associating your people with the Empire. I can immediately at that point turn my squadrons to your cause and make the action a reasonably defensible one.”

“That's out of the question,” Roslyn interjected before Admiral Cain could even speak. “Our independence remains a non-negotiable fact. I am quite prepared,” and this was directed to Cain, “to avoid offensive operations against the Cylons in the interest of preserving the independent character of our people, and the safety of the fleet. And that is a directive.”

Admiral Cain was not a happy woman. “Madame President, if we don't try to regain our worlds, what exactly do you propose?”

“Admiral, that is a civilian matter. Suffice to say that your first duty is to make sure that the arrangements I conclude with the Archduchess,” she continued coldly, “are enacted in such a way as to preserve the civilians of the fleet.”

Her attention was turned back to Tisara. “My apologies, Archduchess. Suffice to say, we are looking to settle in your territory without in any way acceding to the Empire. How far can we go in that regard?”

“In that case I can provide space for the civilian refugees only,” Tisara answered. “Of course, we can come to other arrangements, and I would discuss that treat with you... But this does not seem an opportune time.” The internally exiled Taloran royal was intimately aware of the power issues going on around her, and played them delicately. Her expression was as calm as one could expect, and quite alien. “In light of that, I recommend the nearest habitable planet. It is only marginally habitable, but we'll soon have relief supplies there, and it's more convenient for our supply ships than the one I proposed in our other discussions.”

Admiral Cain looked surprised at that comment, glancing to Roslyn from the side, musing as to what precisely she might have been negotiating with the Archduchess already. “It will be easy enough to coordinate our forces to cover the retreat of the fleet, and to establish a new position... But is it really wise, Archduchess, to let our new home be fixed by the Cylon spies inevitably following the fleet? They will come. There's absolutely no doubt about it.”

“What would you propose us to do about that, Admiral?” Tisara answered carefully, ears flexing downward. “I can be reasonably certain that we'll see them off, but what else can be offered?”

“A raid. I want you to execute a raid on Caprica. Just one raid, we'll use our full strength to do it... We'll completely distract them while the colony ships reach this safe-haven, and we can play merry hell with them while we retreat. There's another advantage.” Cain let a strategic pause sink in. “As you said from your information, Madame President, there's... Cylon experimental camps on Caprica. There's also a resistance; there must be plenty of survivors. Perhaps, Archduchess, we can attempt to rescue some of them, and to drop arms to the others.”

“Experimentation camps?” The two Talorans were both looking extremely grave when they heard that.

“Of what kind?” Captain Armenbhat dared to specify, with a look that Roslyn might ascribe to trepidation.

“They're trying to genetically modify and breed the humans there, to our knowledge,” Roslyn explained, trying to keep a delicate tone without watering it down. “The experiments are of an utterly grotesque nature.”

“Just like the....” Armenbaht froze, and thought better of what she was going to say. “Forgive me.”

“Captain?”

“An old war story my mother shouldn't have told me. It's a matter that, I'm afraid, remains highly classified in the Empire, and of some considerable dissension and debate.”

Tisara looked toward her lover, and began to speak in a language that the translator didn't handle. “Ooh-ankh-allee?”

“Sihn, grilastim jula, ul'orastima.”

Tisara's ears shifted and she spoke words that the translator handled again. “Forgive me. Just clarifying a small matter.”

“Unless it's a threat to us, it's not a problem, Archduchess.” Roslyn realized that it must have been in another language from standard Taloran.

“No, the Emergency in question was during my mother's time—when she was young, indeed, and the prior Empress, Intalasha III was still young on the throne herself—Her Serene Majesty's grandmother. Sadly Her Serene Majesty's mother the Princess Imperial Sikala died before taking the throne herself. She was a friend of mine,” Tisara concluded rather sadly.

It was an offhand comment, but it drove home to both the human women precisely how much influence this person had possessed, or, once possessed. Roslyn was aware that Tisara's self-confessed exile must be systematic, and it made her more hesitant of the prospects of achieving any sort of treaty with her which the Taloran central government would recognize.

“My apologies,” Roslyn answered, and then fell silent as a spell of dizziness swept her, from the drugs that were trying to keep her cancer at bay.

“What can you do militarily?” Admiral Cain asked, taking advantage of the moment to press the question to Tisara again in a different form.

“Cover the retreat of the refugees to a secure position,” Tisara answered.

“A diversion?” Cain dangled the prospect. “We could hit their forces at Caprica, prove to your people the savagery of the Cylons, possibly even drop weapons to the resistance forces.”

“Possibly. It depends on what sort of reinforcements I'm going to be receiving from the Imperial government. I can't risk damage to my forces if they are slow in coming.”

“It would quite possibly be necessary for us to guarantee the safety of the fleet, Archduchess.”

“I'm aware of that.”

“Admirals,” Roslyn interrupted, feeling a bit better. “You'll forgive me, but the Archduchess and I need to prepare for a meeting of the council, now. I will, however, authorize a diversionary raid on Caprica if you can both concur on the particulars of it, and if some attention is paid to rescuing those who remain on the surface.”

“Of course, Madame President.”


************** ********************* **************************


The Crags of Leluno,
Talora Prime.


“Once I get used to the air, it is beautiful,” the All-Highest Empress acknowledged with a gesture of acknowledgement by her ears to her closest friend and confidante, the Archduchess Leluno. “It's amazing how thin it is.”

“I hear that on Terra they actually have a major metropolis at this altitude,” Jhastimia Rulandh---for that was the Archduchess' first name and clan name (the name of her motherline being the same as Saverana's, as they were both members of the Valerian Dynasty)--answered. “Or so some of the members of the Princess Jhayka's entourage say to me.”

“She has quite the collection of humans about her, and it's nice they haven't made her so strange that she is not an appealing raconteur anymore,” Saverana answered, her hands in fingerless gloves, resting against the stone of the balcony and looking down over the verdant lowland valley that was sprawled out before them, where the farmers and their families would be going about their business scarcely realizing that the Empress was looking down upon them from the clifftop hunting—for the mountain-ranging Ritan--lodge of the Archduchess. Usually she was with the Empress, not the other way around.

“Did you hear about the reports from the frontier? The frontier? The Oralnif Spinward?”

“I came here to have a vacation, Jhastimia,” the Empress answered. “But you're right. We can't ignore Tisara's contact report. She's meeting with them right now, and... That is a very bad outcome.” The Empress sighed. “Unfortunately, nobody ever bothered to explain what was the matter with her. And I don't think my mother would have, regardless.”

“The Princess Sikala was very forgiving of old friends, yes. I never heard of the scandal while she was alive, and your grandmother just didn't have time.”

“It's a Midelan matter, except for the diplomacy, and so I'm increasingly inclined to have them deal with it,” Saverana began, and had clearly given more thought to the matter than she'd made it sound with her initial response.

“Oh? That's an interesting look at it, Your Majesty. How could the Midelan government handle it?”

“Their fifth battle squadron is conducting joint manoeuvres with a human Colonial fleet, I learned. Easy intervention range. It's commanded by Vice Admiral the Archduchess Sipamert.”

“....Tisara's aunt!?”

“It's a family matter. Let her family deal with her, I say. Sipamert has plenty of seniority over the Archduchess once we activate her—her rank in the Midelan Starfleet is of a full Admiral. And a Midelan wall of eight dreadnoughts with full escort is more than sufficient to deal with the matter at hand.” A wave of one of her gloved hands was directed upward. “As for the rest, Jhastimia, I'll appoint the Countess Palatine of Fulanaj as my emissary to these Colonials. She'll arrange matters quickly enough, and then hopefully these Cylons do only have one system, and we can deal with that in turn and eliminate this.. Rather severe and unexpected irritation to spinward.”

“She's a rather severe diplomat.”

“Her job is to just secure these humans, make sure they're aided, but still integrated so that they're not a threat. We can't risk an independent human nation in our home universe. I need someone who is prepared to remind them just how weak they are vis-a-vis the Empire, and make deals with those most willing to cooperative with us.”

“Well, Fulanaj is certainly capable of that. Her abrasive nature will not seem positive if word gets back to the human protectorates, however.”

“The new government will have a vested interest in supporting us by that time. We will gain the propaganda value, and still have security. I'm not concerned.”

“Very well, Your Majesty,” Jhastimia answered rather informally. “Do you want my staff to draw up the instructions for both? It will take Fulanaj at least three weeks to reach that area from the County Palatine on a fast courier, and the Midelan fleet ships, two.”

“We shall have to hope that the Archduchess does not further disgrace her line in the meanwhile,” Saverana agreed coolly. “So, yes, that will be sufficient.”

“Of course. I'll convey the instructions to them.” Jhastimia offered an affiable look, her ears bending slightly forward. “Your Majesty, do relax. This matter will not come up again during your vacation with any severity, I should think. These measures will deal with it. Come. Dinner will prepared soon, and it is a full Ridaleen bird prepared on the old hearth.”

“Thank you, Kavrila,” the supreme ruler of almost fifteen trillion people cast a baleful sidewise glance out across the valley below, while one of her hands grasped idly at a length of seaweed green hair. She had used Jhastimia's childhood nickname, and it brought a vague smile to the Archduchess. “It is just that events in this broader universe remain in a delicate time. Our situation has improved considerably since contact, with the massed fleet buildup that it has allowed, and the recent treaties. But until the Fesil Plan yields some fruit we will not have an absolute position of security. So we must tread lightly when among humans.”

“Then why send Fulanaj?”

“She is a good enough friend of humans. And humans... Find their democratic values easily tossed aside. Especially in moments like the ones these poor refugees have suffered through. Perhaps because of that they will end up the best and most loyal of our human subjects yet.”

“I think I see your intent.”

“Good. Shall we go freshen up for dinner, then?”

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

Saverana cast a last glance outward, this time, up at the sky. And then she followed Leluno quietly inside.


************** ***************************** *********************


Liner Cloud Nine.


Unlike the officers of the Jhammind, Vice Admiral of the Green Tisara, Her Serene Grace the Archduchess of Urami, wore an elaborate uniform with dark blue pants, white uniform jacket over dark blue working shirt, and the jacket itself being elaborately frogged with gold braid. Silver epaulettes draped the shoulders, and wonderful inlays of gold fabric ran down the sleeves. She wore black leather gloves, and under the jacket was a sash of red. She had a crimson cocked hat worn fore and aft with effavsur plumage along the top and more gold inlay on the sides. It left her ears free, and on each side of it was attached a green cockade to indicate that she was an Admiral of the Green, her rank being represented by a series of bronze shield-plates set onto the upper right of the sash.

To complete the look, her hair was elaborately braided, hanging as it did all the way down to her knees, and Ysalha had lovingly worked an end-piece into the very bottom with a large ruby in it. The belt was yellow, with a silver belt-buckle, and no sidearm was carried, just the incredibly elegant scabbard of her personal sword, made out of wood which was carved into countless scenes of the Midelan Dynasty, and the carvings carefully worked full of gold and silver, with tiny gemstones providing further enhancement. The hilt of the sword was covered in hammered silver entirely, and the pommel inset with a sapphire. On the opposite side was a sheath of black leather for a swagger stick with a diamond surmounting the button which fastened it. The top of the swagger stick projecting out had a counterweight to the fine polished brown wood in the form of the tooth of some massive carnivorous beast, and met the wood of the stick through the medium of a bronze sphere in which had been inset, by hand, a picture-story of the hunt in which she had shot the beast to whom the tooth had lately belonged.

She stood with the President, and faced the sitting Quorum of the Twelve, the elected government of the Twelve Colonies. In being introduced to, and defending her proposals before, an elected legislature, she was inexperienced. It was certain that many of them had reacted uncomfortably from the moment that they saw her, especially the man identified as 'Tom Zarek', representative of Sagittarius. Tisara, for her part, removed her gloves and settled them under her left arm now that she'd entered the chamber, and reached up, doffing her hat and also folding it under her left arm. It was as far in gestures of respect toward a democratically elected body that any high Taloran grandee might be expected to go.

“I've come here today,” Roslyn began, “to bring a proposal before you all which will be controversial. You have, of course, heard of the Talorans, and the official explanations which have been given to the fleet. There is another matter at hand, which has not been explained yet, and which I must do so with some care.

“Councilors, the Taloran government is in a relationship of association with the human governments of the Thirteenth Colony, which we call Earth, and which rule over it. Simply put, the rest of humanity is part of the Taloran Star Empire, and we are going to have to deal with Her Serene Grace, Vice Admiral Tisara, the Archduchess of Urami,” at this Roslyn gestured to Tisara after choking down the title, “for any of our interactions with the Thirteenth Colony. I believe that the particulars of this arrangement should be dealt with before we discuss anything further, so I'll leave it to Her Serene Grace to answer questions herself.”

Nobody should have been surprised when Tom Zarek spoke first. “Admiral,” he said, and the neglect of the title was very obvious, “Just precisely what are you entitled to represent?”

“Her Serene Majesty the Empress Saverana the Second, All-Highest Sovereign of the Taloran Star Empire.”

“A person.”

“Yes, Councilor. We do not have a nation so much as personal loyalty to the Valerian Dynasty, of which I am a part, albeit a rather minor part. As do the human monarchs of Earth.”

“Earth is ruled by monarchies?”

“With five exceptions composing approximately one-fourth of the population.”

The expression on Tom Zarek's face could have cut steel. It was a credit to the imperious sadist across from him that she regarded him with a neutral expression which did not alter once the whole time; nor did she blink nor shift her head. The result was a face-off of expressions which left everyone else in the room distinctly uncomfortable, an irrestible force colliding head on with an immovable object. The stare-down looked like it could last for several days.

“So are these monarchs Talorans? You've conquered a significant portion of humanity—how dare you come before us now?”

“No, they're all humans,” Tisara answered, glossing over the Duchess of Medina, who didn't really rule over very many humans anyway. “Councilor, we restored the traditional human monarchies in all areas where they stood, only, in due response... To the reign of a tyranny which sought to commit genocide against its own people, to destroy revolted orbital habitats in the Sol system which held hundreds of millions of people. They asked for our help, and we helped them. We have insured that human governments rule the human populace, and the less the intervention we are required to make.. The better. I would say in all honesty that the opening of humanity to the commerce of the Empire has brought a golden age of prosperity.

“Certainly, we make no distincts by race, and hold no particular belief in our own strength or righteousness. We simply act as we see fit.. And treat the humans under the domain of my family the same as the subjects of every other race in the Empire, Talorans included. We are no tyrants, and humanity looks to the Empress only for direction beyond their own affairs.”

“It is certainly 'comforting' that humanity is as thoroughly enslaved by your family as your own people, and numerous other races,” Zarek answered with sarcastic bite. “Perhaps you wish to extend this domination to us as well? But you won't—we'll fight you to the last man before that happens!”

“That's quite out of order!”

A moment of objections and counter-objections followed while Tisara remained coldly quiet. Roslyn herself broke in there, acting earlier than she would have liked:

“Councilors, as a matter of fact, we have come to a treaty agreement—and it contains all necessary provisions for the recognition of our independence. The Talorans have no interest in controlling the population of the Twelve Colonies, both in this fleet and the survivors who may remain behind.”

“What are the terms, Madame President?” Eladio Puasha of Scorpia asked.

“The Talorans will cede one habitable world of Earthlike qualities in the Oralnif Spinward to us, and its entire system. They will,” and here Roslyn had pressed Tisara at the last minute, and gained her concurrence. “further recognize our control of Kobol and the surrounding system, and make provision for free trade and commerce between those two systems between claimed Imperial space without any restrictions whatsoever. A sum suitable to the surviving population which may be evacuated from the twelve colonies will be provided to construct cities and industries to support our population, using Taloran technology, to which we would have access to the plans.

“A military defensive alliance would be established on this basis, and we would cede our claims to the twelve colonies to the Talorans, who would move to occupy them as a buffer zone between us and the Cylons. If the Cylons refuse to recognize this occupation, or if they continue to attack us...”

“We would prosecute war against them until they were utterly annihilated,” Tisara finished for Roslyn coolly and confidently.

Roslyn glanced over for a moment, slightly annoyed, and then finished: “Our battlestars would also be retrofitted with Taloran defensive energy fields to enhance their survivability.”

Sarah Porter of Gemenon answered first. “How, Madame President, does this fit into the sacred prophecies of our peoples? These Talorans are neither holy nor spoken of there. And this denies us indefinitely the chance to reach the Thirteenth Colony.”

“I know not,” Roslyn answered. “But I must act in the best interest of our country and people and trust that the Gods will reveal their plans in time.”

“Do the Talorans have any input there?”

“Your religious affairs do not concern us. We are monotheists and, frankly, we have no interest in ruling polytheists anyway, which to me is the best demonstrate of our lack of bad intents toward you. You having an independent state would, quite simply, solve a great many problems for us,” Tisara explained coolly, talking over the cold stares of some of the Councilors as they digested the fact that, like the Cylons, their supposed saviours were monotheists.

What followed next was a numbing example of the Gemenese religious intractability. Though Roslyn had been hoping for a 6 – 6 tie which would throw the decision to the Vice President—and Baltar would certainly support it—the debate by Zarek definitely won over those who had supported him during his challenge for the position of Vice President. But when the vote roll-call was taken, someone else voted against the treaty measure: Sarah Porter. Clearly she would not so easily tolerate a compact against prophecy made with a race of monotheists.

As Tisara and Roslyn returned to the Colonial One, she tried to make some light of the inital rejection. “I didn't expect the measure to pass this time. And you would have still needed to submit it to the Empress for confirmation, correct?”

“Yes, that's right, Madame President.”

“Well, Archduchess, at least you've seen democracy in action.”

“Yes. Yes I have. I'm afraid it largely lives up to my expectations. You were given an exceptionally kind treaty—especially with your last minute demands for the whole of Kobol and free passage between the two systems—as far as I see it... We're speaking of fifty thousand people. Perhaps if more live on Caprica... If the atrocities are bad enough.. There will be some motivation for confirming your possession of all your worlds and making war on the Cylons for moral reasons alone. I cannot see; I must wait to hear of my instructions from Talora Prime.”

“I understand.” She was silent for a moment. “Perhaps Admiral Cain has the right idea. Could you launch a raid on Caprica to 'cover our retreat?'”

Tisara smiled. “Could I? Technically, and tactically? Of course. But do you mean within the authority of my command?”

“Yes.”

“They haven't sacked me yet.”

[The Duchess of Zeon]

Sorry, everyone, about how long that took, but I'm back in the groove with the story, now.

[Coalition]

Welcome back, and thank you for bringing the stroy with you.

Nicely done, the political maneuvering to accept the treaty, and the 'defensive' maneuver to cover the Colonials' retreat.

I wonder how the Cylons will react?

[fusion]

Same here...
I like it. Can we have some more

[Uraniun235]

I'm hooked.

[Sean Mulligan]

Sorry, everyone, about how long that took, but I'm back in the groove with the story, now.

As Winston Churchill said Democracy is the worst form of government, except for all the others.

[Sean Mulligan]

Sorry, everyone, about how long that took, but I'm back in the groove with the story, now.

As Winston Churchill said Democracy is the worst form of government, except for all the others.

I would recommend reading the story Counting Potsherds by Harry Turtledove to show the downside of a monarchy.

[The Duchess of Zeon]

I am afraid I am quite hopeless in that regard, as-is any open-minded person who reads Maistre. But no matter; I believe all are given fair shrift in this story.

[Sean Mulligan]

I am afraid I am quite hopeless in that regard, as-is any open-minded person who reads Maistre. But no matter; I believe all are given fair shrift in this story.

Who or what is Maistre?

[The Duchess of Zeon]

I am afraid I am quite hopeless in that regard, as-is any open-minded person who reads Maistre. But no matter; I believe all are given fair shrift in this story.

Who or what is Maistre?

Joseph-Marie, Comte de Maistre, a Savoyard lawyer and diplomat, was the writer of a series of commentaries on the events of the French Revolution.

[Sean Mulligan]

I am afraid I am quite hopeless in that regard, as-is any open-minded person who reads Maistre. But no matter; I believe all are given fair shrift in this story.

Who or what is Maistre?

Joseph-Marie, Comte de Maistre, a Savoyard lawyer and diplomat, was the writer of a series of commentaries on the events of the French Revolution.

Have you read anything by Thomas Paine or Mark Twain? Their is also the Grantville series by Eric Flint and the studies of the French Revolution by Albert Soboul and George Lefebvre.

[Steve]

Sorry, everyone, about how long that took, but I'm back in the groove with the story, now.

As Winston Churchill said Democracy is the worst form of government, except for all the others.

.....you are aware that Churchill was a devoted monarchist, yes?

And making reference to a fictional book series about a town of coal-miner hicks in West Virginia being time-space transplanted into Thirty Years War-Germany is.... certainly.... unique.

[Zim]

I don't suppose this fanfic is going to tie in to the rest of the TGG (with the ADN and all that)

[The Duchess of Zeon]

I don't suppose this fanfic is going to tie in to the rest of the TGG (with the ADN and all that)

It does by existing.

[The Duchess of Zeon]

Have you read anything by Thomas Paine or Mark Twain? Their is also the Granville series by Eric Flint and the studies of the French Revolution by Albert Soboul and George Lefebvre.

I have no intention of turning this into a political debate, nor will I make any sort of political issue out of the philosophy of an alien species in a fictional universe. If one cannot grasp the obvious here, perhaps one should not read fiction.