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The Viper gently banked as Kara Thrace, call-sign Starbuck, finished her patrol. Ever since the Admiral Adama had doubled the CAP she had been getting less and less sleep and more and more time in the cockpit of her Viper. She enjoyed flying, and she was damn good at it, but doubling the CAP had resulted in her workload increasing to the point where she could barely take it.

The blocky and unimpressive form of the Viper was designed more for space superiority than atmospheric fighting, unlike the sleeker Earth-built F302 which had the disadvantage of being designed for both. But the F302 had superior technology and inertial dampers to compensate for the design compromise, where the Viper did not.

Even though only the elite were selected as test pilots for the F302 programme they were still trained in conventional fighters beforehand and most would never quite make the transition into making space combat a finely tuned art. The Viper pilots on the other hand had become the best of the best out of necessity to ensure survival both for themselves and the Fleet.

What Kara didn't know was that at that very moment the cloaked Odyssey was mere miles away from Galactica and by extension her Viper, which was cruising just off the bow of the massive Battlestar and making a turn to line up with the port flight pod. Starbuck thumbed on her communication system, opening a channel directly to the command centre of Galactica, or more specifically the station of Anastasia Dualla.

"Dee, this is Starbuck. CAP patrol is complete, I'm coming in for landing on the starboard flight pod." In the CIC of Galactica Dualla looked turned in her seat and pressed her fingertips against the side of her headphones, the radio signal crackled and distorted by the cosmic radio waves that were always present, Galactica and the Twelve Colonies having never delved deep into digital forms of radio communication.

"Starbuck, you are cleared for landing." Dualla shot a glance over her shoulder into the centre of the CIC, where Admiral Adama was engaged in a hushed conversation with Saul Tigh. There were rumours that the XO was a Cylon all over the ship, but some of the command crew knew that the rumours were in fact true, and it made Dee stir uneasily. "The Old Man is here, Starbuck. Try to not to crash."

Kara snorted, a rare smile tugging at her lips as she shook her head a little. "I'll try my best, Dee. No promises. I'm coming in. Starbuck out." Kara carefully tightened her grip on the control stick of her Viper and almost completely killed the forward throttle as she used manoeuvring thrusters to precisely line herself up with the long, hollow landing bay. Unlike the F302s aboard the Odyssey with their inertial dampeners decelerating to a dead stop from the sort of speeds she was going at would be suicidal, mainly because the negative Gs would try to pull her brain out her eyes.

Usually Kara wouldn't hesitate to pull off an impressive landing, but today she was going it textbook and slowly. Maybe it was because all the patrol flights were making her tired. Maybe it was because she had felt tired ever since they found out about the state of Earth. Maybe it was because every time she looked out her cockpit she could see the planet that represented all their shattered hopes.

She was roughly ten seconds from actually entering the flight pod landing bay when her radio crackled, a sign that the channel had been opened. Kara listened, but after a couple of seconds when no message seemed to be forthcoming, she frowned. "Dee, is that you?" There was no response, and Kara was only five seconds away from the pod with her stomach sinking. The last time something weird had happened in her Viper it had ended badly, and Kara Thrace knew to trust her gut.

In the Combat Intelligence Center of Galactica Anastasia Dualla was dealing with a similar problem, the crackle of an incoming signal dominating her headphones but no message coming through. "Starbuck?" She tried, trying to clear the channel. "Starbuck, is that you?" Admiral Adama glanced over from his hushed conversation with Tigh and frowned at the slightly worried tone creeping into Dualla's voice.

"Is something wrong?" He enquired, prompting a few glances from other officers and crew in the CIC to Dualla who was shrugging helplessly at the question. She didn't know. Adama looked at Tigh for a moment and moved over to the side of Dualla's station, leaning in so the conversation wouldn't carry. "What's happening?" he asked softly.

"I don't know, sir," she confessed. "The channel is just-frak!" She scrabbled at her headphones and pressed one side against her head as several things happened. The message finished, Kara Thrace gunned her Viper through the flight pod, and Anastasia Dualla went pale. "Please repeat?"

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Jack O'Neill shot Sam a look as the message came over the bridge speakers of the Odyssey sounding a little distorted. She gave him a look and shook her head. "I'm sorry sir; I can't clear it up any more than I already have." Jack nodded in acceptance and pressed the button on his armrest that opened the channel again, speaking clearly and enunciating his words with almost insulting carefulness.

"This is General Jack O'Neill of the Earth ship Odyssey. Please respond." He lifted his finger off the button and the overlaid crackle of the bridge speakers died to a faint buzz. "Looks like we surprised them a bit," he commented.

"Well you have to admit, they probably weren't expecting to hear from anybody else. We are cloaked, and the planet is dead." Daniel was leaning over the back of Sam's chair as he spoke and looking out the bridge viewport, with Mitchell standing just behind and to the side of him. Jack frowned and turned to his left, spotting Vala lounging against the wall by the entrance to the bridge.

"Where's T?" he asked, looking back to his right to where Daniel and Mitchell had turned their heads a little and were looking slightly to the side of Jack's chair. "Ah," he said in realisation. "Behind me." He was interrupted from continuing that line of thought when the channel again crackled.

"Odyssey, this is Galactica Actual." There was a momentary pause. "We regret to inform you that the planet has been rendered uninhabitable." Even over the radio Jack could tell it was a voice of authority simply from the tone of it. Though the second part of the message sounded more like an attempt to open a dialog for lack of a better thing to say. Jack pressed down his new favourite button and began to speak.

"We just discovered that ourselves, Galactica. We were on a long term mission..."

The CIC was almost deathly quiet as the transmission was relayed over the speakers, Adama looking up a little towards the ceiling and the source of the sound as he listened, a large and bulky radio in his hand. "...a long term mission of several decades. We, uh, need to conduct repairs caused by a faulty jump and need raw materials." The transmission suddenly cut off for several seconds, almost before the speaker had completed his sentence.

The delay continued and Adama was just about to respond when another voice came over the speakers instead. "Ah, this is Doctor Daniel Jackson. What the General is trying to say is that I'm sure we can find ways where we can help each other. We think it would be a good idea to meet in person."

Adama looked over at Tigh, who was standing over Lt. Gaeta and his DRADIS console. The XO simply shook his head, indicating that if the ship was out there they couldn't see them. He looked grim, and his eyes told Adama everything he needed to know on the opinion of his second in command. Trick. Adama looked indecisive. He would like to take Colonial One aboard Galactica but to do so risked interception, as did communicating with the Vipers on the CAP. He decided to take a risk.

"Odyssey," he began. "We cannot detect you on DRADIS. How do we know this isn't a trick?" There was another long pause, and this one stretched over the half minute mark until the reply finally came through. Adama entertained the idea they were out of DRADIS range and the messages were taking time to travel back and forth, but the quick reply from earlier shot down that theory. The speakers suddenly crackled again, the voice of the General again this time.

"Galactica, we are deactivating our stealth systems. Stand by." Adama looked over to Tigh again, who turned to the DRADIS screen. Moments later there was a beep and Gaeta suddenly spoke.

"We have a DRADIS contact...It's only eight hundred meters off the bow!" Adama's head whipped around at that. There was no way any ship should have been able to hide there without being detected by DRADIS, let alone the Vipers, no matter how much stealth plating they had or ECM they were putting out.

"Get Starbuck on the line," he ordered before lifting the radio to his mouth again. "Odyssey, we see you. I am not authorised to allow a meeting, but I will discuss it with our President. Galactica Actual out." Adama glanced at Dualla, who was looked back and nodded as the speakers died and shifted to Kara's backup frequency.

"Kara, are you there?" There was a momentary pause before the reply came through.

"I'm here, Galactica. Do you want a visual on the bogie?"

"It would be appreciated, Starbuck."

"Understood, Galactica, I'll have something for you in a few seconds." Admiral Adama took a deep breath as he waited. He could feel a little spark of hope leaping up and down in his chest again after having felt it snuffed out completely less than a day ago. His mind cast back to the bottle of alcohol he was contemplating opening and decided he could put it off for another day.

In her Viper Kara Thrace nudged the stick down a little as she cruised along the side of Galactica at a slow pace, having been staying out of sight and (hopefully) DRADIS range of the new ship. It only took a few more seconds and the Odyssey came into sight around the nose of Galactica. Kara thumbed open her comm and spoke. "Galactica, I see her."

"Describe it, Starbuck." The reply was almost instant, giving her the impression that Admiral Adama was holding the radio and had his focus on it. No pressure.

"Ah...it has a long neck jutting out from the centre of the main bulk, making up around half the length, and I estimate it to be four hundred and a half to six hundred meters long in total with a thin profile. I can't see any real armor, and...frak, are those windows?"

In the CIC of Galactica Adama leaned over to Tigh, who had removed himself from the DRADIS screen and to the Admiral's side. "Well that rules it out being a military ship," Adama commented, "but best to be sure." He cleared his throat with a small coughing sigh. "Starbuck, do you see any weapons?"

Starbuck leaned a little for her left to get a better look and almost completely killed the forward momentum of her Viper with some fine thruster control, but making sure she could accelerate at a moment's notice. She would be damned if she was shot down because she was going too slow and close to an unknown ship. "I think so, Galactica. It looks like they have turrets...but they look too small to do any damage to anything but a few of the civilian ships. I think they must be for fighter suppressant. Maybe some sort of flak cannon."

Adama frowned, tapping his finger lightly against the transmit button of his handheld radio without actually pressing it. He was already taking the decade long mission with a grain of salt, but a windowed ship with weaponry didn't match up with any sort of logic he ever heard. Windows were just asking to cripple a ship with a single strike. They were a liability, compromising armour for something completely unessential. "Starbuck," he began. "Do you see anything else at all? Missiles launchers, fighter tubes?"

Kara rolled her Viper slightly and looked over her left shoulder to get a better view, noting the hatch-like boxes along the neck of the ship. "I think I might have something Galactica. There are fourteen...no, make that sixteen hatches along the neck of the ship. I think they might be missile tubes."

"Maybe a strike ship? We know how effective those stealth systems are." Tigh murmured, and Adama considered the idea. Such a ship could jump in behind enemy lines or near a supply base. They could get close without attracting attention from any battleships, when launch a salvo of nukes and jump away before they were engaged by anything slower than fighters, which would explain the small turrets.

"Sir?" Adama was distracted from his response to Tigh and next question when Gaeta spoke up. "The President is demanding an explanation and Colonial One is moving to dock." Adama nodded to indicate he had heard.

"Bring it in and take the President to the situation room. Inform her I'll be there shortly." He pondered for a moment before again pressing 'transmit' and broadcasting to Kara's Viper. "Do you see anything else, Starbuck?"

"Affirmative, Galactica," Kara said, her eyes having left the correctly identified missile hatches moments ago and had since been firmly fixated towards the back of the Odyssey. "I think I'm looking at a pair of hangers, one on either side of the main hull. Judging by the size of them they look more like they could only launch ships in a battle situation, not receive them. I don't recognise anything else, though."

"Understood, Starbuck. Galactica out." Adama put down the looked to Tigh, who gave him the facial equivalent of a helpless shrug. "Alright," the Admiral said evenly. "Lt. Gaeta, is Colonial One aboard?"

"Coming in now, sir," the Lieutenant confirmed.

"Then I need to brief the President. Call me the moment anything happens." Adama left without another word, leaving Tigh just standing there.

"Frak me," Tigh whispered, before he picked up the radio and began issuing orders to the CAP.

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"Is it just me?" Mitchell asked, "Or are there a lot more fighters out there than there were a few minutes ago?" O'Neill had noticed as well, as had Carter.

"Well them not shooting at us is a good sign, right?" Vala asked.

"Indeed." Teal'c rumble made Jack start as he realised the Jaffa hadn't even moved from his position behind the chair in the last thirty minutes of silence.

"Geez Teal'c. Just...don't stand behind me like that, okay?" There was no verbal response, but Jack heard the soft noise of the Jaffa moving away. Though he was almost positive he probably got one of those 'raised eyebrow' looks in the process.

"You know Carter, I've been thinking." Sam looked up from her console and over at the General to indicate she was listening. O'Neill shifted a little. "If we can make anything with that new Asgard beaming constructor thing-"

"-Universal assembler, sir-"

"Right, universal assember...can't we make ZPMs?" There was a momentary pause, and Jack got the sinking feeling that Carter was trying to phrase why it didn't work in terms he would understand. "You know if it wouldn't work you could just say so, Carter." He sounded a little grumpy.

"I'm sorry sir," she apologized. "But when we first got Asgard beaming technology the scientists at Area 51 tried a similar idea. They just ended up with depleted copies of the ZPM they were using as a template. You see a ZPM essentially has access to an unlimited amount of energy, only limited by how much it can safely channel and increasing entropy-"

"Ack!" he cried, "Carter!" Her face fell a little as she realised what she was doing, despite often being warned not to launch into explanations in that much detail with O'Neill, who hated unnecessary complexity.

"Sorry sir," she apologized again, looking a little embarrassed. "Essentially the attempts ended with them trying to build their own ZPM. It was the size of a small building and only operated for three seconds before it burned out permanently. As far as I know they're still working on it."

"Hmph." Jack let out a dissatisfied sigh. It had been a good idea as well. "So, no response from out there yet?" Carter shook her head.

"Well, you have to admit they probably weren't expecting us." Daniel's comment provoked nothing more than a grunt from O'Neill, and the archaeologist just cut his losses and didn't say anything more.

Jack sighed and looked over to Carter, who was once again engrossed in something technical. "What are you doing, Carter?" She looked over at him distractedly for a moment.

"To be honest sir, I'm not sure how I want to do things. At the moment I'm specifically designating energy flow to key systems from the main conduit. Usually power is equally distributed through all the conduits, so energy loss wouldn't be a problem. Right now though to get maximum hyperdrive power I need to actually manually use the least damaged conduits specifically for the hyperdrive and-" she broke off and gave O'Neill an weak smile. "I'm trying to make the ship run more efficiently, sir."

"See, was that so hard to say?" Jack took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Anything else?"

"Well I still have to see if the Asgard core has a dialling program, otherwise we might have to drop by an uninhabited planet and take a DHD so we can activate the Stargate. At the moment it's just sitting in the starboard hanger bay. Along with that I'm not sure whether I can replicate the conditions that brought us here in the first place. Not without a much greater control over the hyperspace field."

O'Neill sat up a little at that, looking horrified. "Are you saying we might be stuck here?" Carter just looked at him with that apologetic expression. O'Neill groaned and put his head in his hands. "Please, please, please tell me we are not going to be stuck here."

"I'm sorry, sir." She said softly. "I might find something, but it isn't looking good." O'Neill was about to deliver a reply to that when the radio suddenly crackles, automatically relayed to the bridge speakers. Moments later the crackle dimmed and the voice of Admiral Adama replaced it.

"Odyssey, this is Galactica Actual. I have arranged a meeting with our President. You may send a three person party with no weapons to Galactica's port flight pod. If you are unable to meet these conditions because of a lack of craft we can send a Raptor to pick you up. Do you copy?" O'Neill gestured to Sam to get her attention and leaned over his armrest to speak.

"Carter, don't we have that Puddle Jumper in the starboard hanger?" he whispered. Sam looked a little confused for a moment.

"Sir you do realise we aren't transmitting yet?" O'Neill paused for a moment, his head turning and eyes moving momentarily to the transmit button on his other armrest.

"Right," he said in a normal voice, as if he had only just realised it. "But we have the Puddle Jumper, right?" Carter thought for a split second then nodded. Jack leaned back and grinned in satisfaction, jabbing his finger down on the button. "Galactica, this is Odyssey. We agree and will be sending a...shuttle over to the agreed location."

It only took a moment for the reply to come back. "We copy, Odyssey. Be advised that any deviation from the agreed terms will result in the destruction of your ship." There was a crackle then the transmission cut off with an air of finality.

"Love you too," O'Neill grumbled sarcastically, standing up. "Come on, Daniel. Let's meet and greet. Carter...just keep working on getting us home, oh and Marks?" The Major, who had been dutifully working and keeping up to date with the shifting fighter groups all around the Odyssey looked up.

"Yes sir?" he asked, keeping one eye on his screen. Jack approvingly noted that the shield generators were active and ready to deploy the protective shell at a moment's notice.

"Keep monitoring us. If any of us so much as get a hangnail I want to be beamed out." He paused and clarified. "And the others, too." He could have sworn for a moment he saw Marks smile.

"Aye, sir," Marks acknowledged, bringing up a new subsystem on his screen and setting a lifesigns alert in case the General or anybody else in the party was injured. O'Neill was again approving and impressed. That man could multitask. Then again he had been a lieutenant only two years ago. It had taken O'Neill most of a decade to make that much progress.

"I want to come!" Jack slowly turned until he was looking squarely at Vala, who had stepped forward. She noted the stares and looked defensive. "What?"

"I'm sorry," Daniel said. "But you want us to bring you to what is probably going to be a delicate negotiation?" Vala nodded stubbornly. "The last time we were in a situation with high ranking members of government you implied that they just wanted to build big ships to compensate for-"

"Yes, yes" O'Neill said hurriedly. "Thank you, Daniel." He just looked Vala up and down for a moment. "No, you can't come. Teal'c can, though. Come on, big guy." With a beckoning wave to Teal'c the General walked out of the bridge, followed by Daniel. Teal'c paused long enough to give Vala a tilt of the head that to her seemed a bit smug, making her huff and lean against the bulkhead, crossing her arms.

The trip down to the hanger was mercifully short, most of it spent in silence. Daniel was no doubt preoccupied with the upcoming negotiations, Teal'c was being...stoic...and Jack had a rather bored and impatient look on his face. His only comment the entire time was related to how they needed some elevator music.

The elevator shuddered to a halt and there was a pneumatic hiss for the briefest of moments as the air-tight seal disengaged and the heavy reinforced doors whirred apart, powerful motors dragging them open. From there it was just a short walk to the starboard hanger, where O'Neill swiped his card. Though most of the ship worked on the principle that if you were already aboard you could go where you liked a few areas were limited to authorised personnel. Engineering and the hangers were the most obvious, though the missile bays were also restricted.

The doors opened and they were greeted by the sight of the eight strong F302 complement of the starboard hanger. There was plenty of room left in the hanger, but even with superior manoeuvring capabilities the fighters still needed room to emerge from their berths and taxi the short distance to a take-off position. But it was the contents of the rear of the hanger that caught the eye.

The dark and dull green cylinder of the Ancient built Puddle Jumper was one, the small shuttle containing enough advanced technology to make any techie drool. It could only be operated by somebody with the ATA gene, a little hand me down from Ancients who interbred with primitive humanity after fleeing Atlantis. Jack O'Neill had one of the stronger genes, but it still took effort to do anything, whether it was launching thousands of fleet-destroying drone weapons or flying a simple ship.

The second and in the eyes of some more interesting piece of technology in the hanger was a large ring propped up against the wall, nine chevrons interspersed along the circumference of the device. The twenty two foot diameter of the Stargate made it look rather impressive, and Jack couldn't help but feel a pang of nostalgia at the sight of it. He smacked a button on the back of the Puddle Jumper and the back detached, a hatch slowly lowering to allow access to the hollow ship.

"You know," Jack commented, still looking at the Stargate, "It would make a good wall hanging, don't you think? Even if it does weigh a ton."

"I do believe the Stargate in fact weighs thirty two tons, O'Neill." Teal'c corrected, though his face was even more stoic than usual, which made Jack look at him suspiciously for a moment, trying to detect whether it was a joke or not as the hatch hit the deck and they climbed aboard.

"Thank you Teal'c. It's a figure of speech." Jack retorted as he sat down and laid his hands on the controls of the Jumper, squeezing his eyes shut in visible concentration as he dropped into the seat. Daniel took the co-pilots seat, despite being incapable of flying. The General was rewarded as the panel lit up blue and Jumper powered up with a gentle hum, the hatch closing as Teal'c hit the control.

"It might make a good wall hanging at first, Jack," Daniel commented. "But your opinion might change when the Goa'uld gate into your living room." The Jumper turned to face the opening hanger doors, Marks or whoever was in charge apparently anticipating their needs. The blue, undulating and transparent shimmer of an Asgard forcefield contained the breathable air while it was decompressed in a controlled manner.

O'Neill cast his eyes over the controls for a moment before giving up and just turning the radio headset in his left ear on. "Odyssey, this is Jumper One. Do you read?"

"Jumper One, this is Odyssey." Marks' voice came over the radio loud and clear. "You are clear to go. Lowering forcefield." There was a momentary flicker as the shield keeping the air in completely vanished, and the Jumper smoothly accelerated out of the hanger, the engine pods unfolding from the body of the ship and lighting up a whitish blue.

Daniel leaned forward and looked out the front window, craning his head. "Looks like we have escorts. Two of those fighters." He looked over at Jack, who was staring straight ahead at the looming flightpod, the long tunnel-like landing strip the only thing on his mind. The last thing he wanted to do what think about how to take out those fighters if they attacked just to have the Ancient technology helpfully interpret his forward contingency planning as an order to do just that. Then the radio crackled, Major Marks' voice coming over. "Jumper One, I'm transferring you over to Galactica. They need to walk you through the landing sequence."

"Roger that, Odyssey." O'Neill almost completely killed his forward momentum in less than a second, leaving the two escorting Vipers to shoot past them. The crackle seemed to deepen, and Jack frowned. It usually indicated that the transmission was degraded, but that slight distortion seemed to be the norm for communications from the gigantic Battlestar.

"Jumper One, this is Galactica. We need to walk you through the landing procedures. Approach the landing bay from aft at a slow speed..."

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William Adama, Laura Roslin and Lee Adama stood side by side as the elevator finally stopped, leaving the oddly shaped shuttle in front of them. The Admiral of the fleet, the President of the Twelve Colonies and the former President and delegate to the Quorum was an imposing sight for anybody well acquainted with the political landscape. Unfortunately everybody acquainted with the political landscape were elsewhere, most entirely unaware of the visit from the Odyssey. The only people in the hanger bay at the moment were the three and a detachment of six marines, fingers on triggers.

The eyes of Admiral Adama cast over the ship, nothing that while the overall shape was smooth, the hull of the shuttle had blocky protrusions in an overall pattern, and he couldn't see any obvious means of propulsion or exit from his angle, the engine pods having retracted when Jumper One set down on the elevator in the landing bay. There were, thankfully, no obvious weapons.

Lee Adama was having similar thoughts, though his were less militarily oriented and was running over the political ramifications of survivors from the Thirteenth Tribe. It was always possible that Earth may have been destroyed but colonies lived on out there. Possible, but deep down in his heart he suspected that wasn't the case.

Laura Roslin wasn't thinking much at all, her thoughts seemingly fogged with anticipation with her usually razor-sharp mind quiet. She didn't feel tired anymore, and her lips tugged up into a practised smile as there was a sudden whirring and a low hum as the rear hatch of the shuttle in front of them began to descend. "Here we go," she whispered. Admiral Adama looked over at her and smiled faintly himself before assuming a practiced face of his own.

"You look much better," he murmured, leaning over slightly towards her, so only she could hear.

"I stopped my Doloxan treatments," she replied, before straightening up as the first figure emerged from the back of the shuttle. Adama's smile had suddenly become fixed.

"We'll talk about this later," he said in a low voice before stepping forward to greet the new arrivals, hand extended. He was surprised when he was cut off by the apparent leader, who was wearing what appeared to be a simple jumpsuit, not so dissimilar to the sort worn by maintence crews for the Vipers.

"Permission to come aboard?" the first man asked, sounding remarkably cheerful. Adama blinked in surprise.

"Permission granted," he said, hand still extended. It was taken in a firm grip, and then Adama's eyes firmly locked with those of the man in front of him. It continued for several moments in which there was dead silence, giving the impression that they were both weighing the other. Then the man smiled.

"Major General Jack O'Neill. You have an impressive ship."

"She has been through hell and back," Adama said gruffly, already warming a little to the man in front of him.

"Most good ships have," O'Neill said quietly, before releasing his grip and gesturing to the men on each side of him. "This is Doctor Daniel Jackson on my left." Jackson leaned forward and shook Adama's hand in greeting with a 'pleased to meet you'. "And the tall silent type on my right is Teal'c."

"It is an honour to meet you," the tall man known as Teal'c rumbled.

"Thank you," Adama said automatically. "I am Admiral William Adama, commander of Galactica, and this is our President, Laura Roslin." Laura gave them a smile and stepped forward, greeting each in turn with the skill and practice of a politician. Jackson seemed particularly enthused, while O'Neill's response was muted, which Adama noted. "And this is my son and delegate to the Quorum, Lee Adama."

"Pleased to meet you all," Lee said amiably, but did not step forward for a handshake with anybody.

"Please," Adama said. "Follow us. We will be meeting in my office." With that he turned to leave, the marines separating to allow him and the others passage.

"Normally we would have a meeting like this on Colonial One," Roslin commented, "But we want to avoid the press and Quorum at the moment." Jack made a noncommittal sound, noting the locations of the marines, their weapons and general demeanour. He had no doubt Teal'c was doing the same thing.

"Oh don't worry, we just love politicians," O'Neill said, trying to sound sincere and utterly failing.

"Jack." Daniel's warning didn't fall on deaf ears for once, and the General stopped talking.

"From the exterior this vessel appears to have sustained damage." Teal'c observation didn't go unreplied to, Lee Adama turning back a little to look at them. So far the corridors had been remarkably clear, marines clearing the way and bringing up the rear.

"Galactica was going to be a museum ship," Lee explained. "But when the Cylons attacked she became the only combat-ready ship that wasn't destroyed or lost." There was a momentary silence.

"So, yeah..." O'Neill trailed off then asked the question. "What are Cylons?"

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And now review reply time! I can't get through quite all these and not end up repeating myself, so I'll reply to those that brought up issues or ideas as well as those that really caught my attention. I gotta say, some of these really drove me to keep going, despite how horribly difficult writing some of this ended up being.

Loneranger – Unfortunately I have come to the conclusion that bringing in Atlantis is gonna be mostly impossible, and I think that the main friction in the story will now come from the sudden reliance the Colonials and Rebel Cylons may suddenly find themselves having on the Odyssey. It ain't gonna be pretty.

JovianJeff – Never let it be said I don't aim to please. The shipping will be at show levels, and show levels only. But I'm really trying to address most of the concerns with other possibilities as they come up naturally in the plot, and my idea for where this story is going has continually evolved over the last few weeks. But at the moment most of this is in the far future...i.e. a couple of months. Maybe.

Dur'id the Druid – Tough luck! I'll include however much I want! ^.^ But seriously, at least we got to the contact this time, which I think it going to be toughest bit overall.

KeiranHalycon – I think the Earthlings are gone from this universe...unless you count the slaves the Goa'uld transplanted. As the for the ZPM nitpick...yeah, I have to agree. I exaggeratted there, and it doesn't match up. Though it is worth noting that for the sort of alloy/heavy metals making up the Odyssey creating it would take 100s of times more energy than making air.

Bookofmagic – Your review actually got my thinking. Maybe there is a ZPM in Egypt because they went back in time here as well to get it? *gasp* Maybe their meddling caused the destruction of Earth in this timeline! We can only wonder...the ZPM might have been destroyed in the nuclear bombardment, and they will never know what horrors they have created.

Rydan – I actually considered much of that, but came to the conclusion that actually creating racks for all those drones, as well as rigging a launching system that didn't require the Ancient chair...just wouldn't really add much to the story, and it seems a bit of a stretch. There will be a conflict with the Goa'uld...mainly because the team WILL need something deep inside Goa'uld territory to get the ZPMs they ARE going to need later in the story. Can anybody guess what it is? :P

Reagan - You neatly summed up how the Asgard assembler works. It needs energy to run(or create materials out of nothing) and materials to break down into molecules and atoms. As for the technology to give Galactica, the SG1 crew are going to need their help for some of the objectives they need to meet.

SG1 Fan – You either get longer chapters or it keeps on coming. You don't get both.

Tpx1 – It was mentioned that the gate had been beamed up last chapter, but I guess it was easy to miss. As for most of your other ideas, some are just too impractical, while others may be quite important later on to secure Galactica's help for some of the more...dangerous things.

Andrewjameswestwood – I'm glad it is a considerable improvement, though I'm not sure how it is. I would love to know just what set it apart and made it better, so I can hopefully capitalize on it. And I thought Jack would have been the obvious choice for the Odyssey as well, and I found that really bothered me when I was considering using a lead-on from Unending for Daughter of Atlas.

As for why it was Moscow that is really up to you. It could have been coincidence, or the Goa'uld may have been seeking to weaken Earth before the strike...a plan which came back to bite him in the ass when it annihilated itself.

TheModernPrometheus Hmm...I'm not sure what the matchup between Vipers and Death gliders will be. We know the Jaffa are meant to be crack troops, but we all know that in reality they are the stormtroopers of Stargate.

BlackLionness – Character portrayals and conversations are actually really difficult, so they proved to be a major stumbling block for this chapter especially. I just hope they turn out alright. Thanks for another review!

Gtamaniac – The show never has said how far the BSG jumpdrives can go, and it is rather annoying...

Valiran – Damn, I keep catching myself doing that, then I have to correct it. Guess I must have missed one.

Bhoy – Unfortunately that isn't going to happen, no matter how entertaining it might be...*sigh*

Mwalker – Thanks for the compliment! Ra/System Lords will play a role in the story, if only as an obstacle to be overcome so they can get to their real objective...and the Replicators will play a role, but not the Asgard ones. This harks back to what SG1 is going to need that is deep in Goa'uld territory...

Thanks, and if you want to read more, remember to review! It isn't much fun just writing to nobody out there...

I, Sayle, do solemnly swear to review all the fics I enjoy, regardless of the number of reviews, its age, or anything else.