Chapter Text
Traveller Base, Caprica
Slowly, activity continued to build around the newly-refurbished military base as more and more material and personnel continued to arrive. Though the redeployment of the people from the Galactica would still take a metric crapton of time due to her Last Voyage, most other soldiery had already arrived from across the multitude of branches, with some selected personnel joining Theodorakis’s Team.
Said Team was slowly turning into a Platoon, too, meaning they’d have a lot more firepower to see just what the hell was going on out there in the wider Galaxy. She made a mental note to also get more of her items transferred to the new office, because right now, the place was as barren as they came, with only a couple of picture frames of old aircraft and Battlestars, plus renditions of the Battles that took place during the War.
She shifted her computer keyboard to the middle of the desk and kept typing out more reports and requisition forms for ammunition, because she felt like as soon as the Stargate was open to them, there’d be very little in the way of ‘friendly’ creatures out there. Why else would Rhea, whoever or whatever she was, have set up such an intricate defense system.
Speaking of that thing, the woman thought as she dialed the laboratory on her phone and put it up to her ear. She asked, “Doc, I’ve been waiting for that report for a few hours here. How’s it going?” as soon as the line stopped beeping. She figured that annoying her staff was the best way to go about getting this stuff done fast… Obviously, though, that was a joke. She did want regular updates, however.
”We’re still working on it, ma’am,” Amanda replied through the mic, trying to ignore the audible sound of computers clicking away in the background. She continued, ”We’ve been able to discern that it’s an ancient piece of technology not too different from the supposed ‘Galleon’ that brought the peoples of the Colonies to Gemenon.”
“But no location yet,” Cain asked.
”None. Rhea wasn’t forthcoming about it. However,” The woman then paused as she lifted up a new tablet that’d presumably just finished translating, or at least that was what it sounded like over the line, ”... She did leave a few clues around on the various Colonies. She knew damn well we’re gonna be inhabiting all habitable planets as is. Several of these, we already have in our possession.”
“What can we say?” Cain joked, “She was an all-seeing Goddess after all…” which garnered a short laugh out of Amanda. She smirked proudly, happy to know she still had it in her to make a girl laugh and added, “Alright… Keep me posted if you find anything actionable. Until then…” before her shoulders sagged, that smirk disappearing, “... I’m gonna keep looking at the News. Something came up recently.”
”I heard…” The Doctor answered, her previous mirth having soon dissolved into a more serious attitude, ”... Do you think someone…?”
“It’s possible,” The woman mumbled, “We have a lot of staff here, too… Who’s to say some religious nutjob didn’t let it slip.”
What the two women were talking about was a message that both had received just now. There was a slip-up in security and the small cult of Rhea, the Mother Goddess, had sprung back up after decades of inactivity. Military Intelligence seemed to believe some kind of leak had occurred within the base itself, with the Stargate and the Tablets being mentioned by name in at least one intercepted communique.
She told the Doctor, “Keep an eye on your staff, I’ll keep an eye on the rest. And like I said, keep me posted on any leads we should explore. Cain, out,” before she set the transmitter down, hearing it click. She then tapped a button on the phone, which activated a direct link on speaker to Konrad’s office. She said, “Konrad, mind sending the Lieutenant and his XO up here?”
”Sure thing, ma’am. There a problem?” He asked warily.
“No, just gonna need him for something,” She replied, then sat back down on her leather chair and looked at her relatively-empty office. Yeah, she wanted to bring a few more of her firearms down from her Flag office on the Pegasus, if for nothing else than to have some form of decoration here. Then again…
She watched the door open and the young Lieutenant walk in. He saluted and she quickly replied in kind, then said, “At ease, Lieutenant. I read through the list and approved several dozen transfers, as I’m sure you’ll be happy to know, but damned if your exploration team isn’t turning into a full Combat Platoon. And where’s your XO?”
“Coming in now, ma’am,” A woman spoke as she walked into the room. She was shorter than Vik, but had similarly black hair and greenish eyes. She wore glasses, though, rounded ones, and she wore a Marine uniform and had more slim features with almond-shaped eyes and a beautiful, exotic face. With a small smile, she saluted and said, “Sergeant Sarah Leon, born on Libran. I belong to the 442nd Marine Regiment. A pleasure to be under your command, ma’am.”
Cain saluted back, then replied, “At ease, Marine. Welcome to Caprica.”
“Whaddaya need us for, ma’am?” He asked.
“A possible mission that may or may not involve a Cult tied to Rhea and the Stargate. I’m gonna need your Platoon packed and ready to ship out as soon as the Doctor gives me any intel about possible locations where certain Artifacts might be,” She answered calmly, then told the two, “It’s tier one. Nobody else must know why you’re milling about, looking for this stuff on any of the other Colonies, but it’s gonna be important if we want the Gate to work.”
“Count us in,” The man replied, adjusting the cuffs of his uniform a bit, “A few more of ours are bound to arrive within the next day or so. Should give us enough fighting strength to get out and do work… And intervene, if need be. We expecting any kind of major trouble?” while Sarah beside him adjusted her uniform.
“As far as we know, no,” The woman answered, “But anything tied to the Rheans is expected to go wrong, so pack heavy.”
“How come?” The man asked, “Usually these cults aren’t that well equipped.”
“Anyone who believes in Rhea is a doomsday prepper or some variation thereof on every planet,” Sarah commented, arms crossed, “Thought you’d read the briefing after the last time we went in to arrest some of’em…” then she recalled that that was a joint Army-Marine job during the demining operations back on Picon.
The Lieutenant hummed, then said, “Right… Guess I forgot that part, considering around forty-five percent of the cults we dealt with on Picon itself were born from the original worshippers of the Mother Goddess… The frak has driven them to this point, honestly? I get worshipping the creator of all Gods we know and follow is a valid thing, but holy crap.”
“Them also being somehow worse than the monotheistic people we met during a patrol is something else entirely,” Sarah mumbled her reply, then looked at Admiral Cain and said, “We’ll handle whatever op you need us to, ma’am.”
“I’m kinda lookin’ forward to going through the Gate, so, yeah, we’ll handle it,” Vik commented. The Admiral nodded, then dismissed the pair with a salute and a wave of the hand. They walked out from the room, with the gunner commenting, “Guess we’ve got a lot of work ahead of us once more. You think we’re gonna get shot at by the Cultists?”
“Honestly? Yeah… At this point, nothing would surprise me,” She shrugged, “You know how crazy those frakkers can get. Hell, we were on that SWCC boat with the Wet Navy boys on Picon and they opened up on us from fishing trawlers. They’re batshit insane enough to do that…” and she led the way to the right, turning toward the barracks. She hummed, then asked, “You think Willow’s gonna show up?”
That seemed to catch her El-tee by surprise, causing a faint flush in his cheeks. She snorted, then mumbled, “... Of course, you called her,” in a mix of amusement and disappointment. He shrugged, to which she said, “Look, sir, I’m not gonna comment on the matter, but we’re still with the military. I think rules regarding fraternization are still fairly strict.”
“And with a woman like Admiral Cain, who’s cut from the Military’s cloth down to a Tee,” Vik added, “It’d be a bad idea to risk anything with the Colonial Military Laws in place,” and he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. It wasn’t like it wasn’t done before, but it was terribly hard. And with him being a Lieutenant and Willow, a Corporal, this wasn’t gonna go all that well.
“Anyways,” Sergeant Leon began, “Let’s just focus on getting this crap done… Gotta be ready for when we get called by the Admiral.”
… The Admiral had returned to her work, running through various scenarios and pieces of data while also reading the news through the Colonial ExtraNet. She was compiling data on sightings of the Rhean Cult in the past forty years from digitized data and current libraries and news articles regarding their movement.
There weren’t any terrorist attacks to report in the past ten years and very few overall in the last twenty. The Cylons more than likely’d wiped out a healthy chunk of them before they’d gotten out of their hiding places. All the others were likely to be Doomsday Preppers, alright. Anyone whose ass got kicked that hard would switch into preppers.
She had also picked out her own service after everything that’d happened to them during the Battle for Tauron during the First War. She breathed a short, shaky breath, then shook it off. Quietly, she whispered, “I’ve got this, Lucy” as she set her mind to finishing this planning. She wasn’t going to lose any troopers to these bastards.
At the same time, though, she had to worry about what the Cylon were doing. Despite the obvious fact of them having been missing for the past thirty years, their former machine servants were very likely also doing their best to prepare for a future confrontation. The fact that their current elections got them someone so afraid of rearmament that he would deny multiple new programs of rearmament. They barely got the Gods-damned CNP approved.
She breathed a sigh, then nearly jumped out of her skin when the phone rang. She lifted the microphone-receiver combo, slid it up to her ear, then said, “Cain here…”
”Admiral! We’ve got some good news!” The Doctor spoke happily, ”We got a location for either the Veil Device! Or maybe a site with some intel on it… It’s tied to Gemenon, though, so be wary this might get some of the religious staff angry,” as her staff continued to work behind her. She added, ”I can be up with the details in fifteen minutes.”
“You give me good news, you can take twenty, doc,” The woman replied, then checked the location of her flag ship, “I’ll let the Lieutenant and First Platoon know they’ve got a target…” only to immediately decide and state, “And I’ll be taking them there personally in the Pegasus,” as soon as she saw the ship had just returned to orbit above Caprica.
The Doctor’s reply was affirmative and joyful, though the woman couldn’t help but feel like they were about to walk into a hornets’ nest of some kind. She prayed the guys and girls of this ‘Misfit’ platoon were ready for a possible firefight. She also made sure to send up a few supplies like extra ammunition, some of that new Body Armor command was testing on Caprica and a few packs of stun grenades and other equipment they’d find necessary to clear out the area with as few casualties as possible.
She didn’t want to get the Gemenese on their case any more than they’d already had, after all.
… One Raptor ride to the Pegasus later, the Admiral had been updated with the intelligence of the location of that shrine itself. Their main target was the Shrine at one of the Northernmost points of the Planet, located within a village nearby the mountains in the North on some Frozen Plateau. The Admiral adjusted her collar, then looked at the second Raptor–a bulky dropship with Electronic Warfare Systems built on board, plus heavy weapons.
Ahead was the beautiful Pegasus. Built as part of the Mercury-class Battlestar Program nearly ten years ago, the heavily armored warships mixed an array of defensive batteries, anti-air missile pods and heavy kinetic guns built into the trenches at the ‘head of the crocodile’ and the aft section near the engines with highly-capable Electronic Warfare suites designed to both counter the Cylons’ own attempts at hacking AND provide a means to counterattack.
The forward trench that made up the ‘mouth’ of the ship was lined with multiple twin kinetic batteries that had a semi-decent traverse, while the spine and belly also had some guns added around the emblem of Battlestar Group Sixty-Two, plus layer upon layer of heavy armor built to withstand the bombardment of any ship in the same weight class, whether it was nuclear or kinetic.
Her two Flight Pods each held hundreds of fighters, enough to further darken the void at any point during battle. Two pairs of fighters formed up with the Raptors as they moved toward the Peggy, which also had a Janus-class Heavy Cruiser and several Minotaur-class warships providing her with heavy-duty Escort. Though the latter two ship classes had no airwing to speak of, their armaments and layered armor defenses more than made up for it, with the Minotaur-classes themselves, ships of Aerilon design, making up the fleet’s bulwark.
Several smaller Manticore-class fast-attack Corvettes that had just been refitted with new guns and engines zoomed past the vessel as the Wing Commander of the Pegasus radioed, “Pegasus Actual, this is CAG. We’ll be your and your Jarheads’ escort to the Deck. Hope you’re ready for a short trip and a long drive.”
“Ready as we’ll ever be, CAG. Actual, requesting permission from XO to come aboard,” The woman spoke as she approached the armored cockpit of the Raptor, watching the silver-grey, sleek tri-winged and three-engined Viper Mark VIIs shift into position to provide them escort, maintaining formation with them via liberal use of puffs from their RCS thrusters, white, tiny geysers of fuel spout that kept them aligned and would allow them to pull some nasty maneuvers in combat.
”Actual, Pegasus Conn confirms. Welcome back, ma’am,” Her Executive Officer, a gentle man, replied kindly. He’d replaced Konrad, who was her now-XO in the Traveller base.
It was as they flew closer to the starboard landing Pod that the group could see Helios Alpha shining in the distance. Much closer to the orbit of Caprica, her twin, Gemenon hovered nearby, face-to-face with the planet on their common barycenter. Faint flickers of light on the dark side showed the towns and cities of one of the Religious centers of the Colonies.
Beside the Pegasus, the Admiral saw several more Battlestars and supporting vessels, including the Yashuman and her escort of Ranger-class Missile Boats. Once more, ships without pods or much of a fighter wing, the Rangers relied heavily on their guided missiles. There were several more of Yashuman’s class–the Valkyrie–nearby, too, part of the Battlestar Group alongside the Pegasus and her two other sisters.
“Good Hera,” Whispered Vik, eyes locked onto the warships around them.
“May the Gods bless the Colonial Fleet,” Sarah quipped with a smile on her face, “My sister serves on the Yashuman, colonel and XO for captain Blanche.”
“I met her. Fine officer,” Cain commented, “That’s one of the reasons I trusted the Lieutenant’s recommendations when he put you as his team Sergeant on the list,” and she watched a pair of Mark Seven Vipers do a quick fly-by overhead, before one of them performed a roll to the right as a greeting to Cain. She smiled, then sighed and looked ahead at the Pegasus’s starboard Pod.
“We’re coming in for landing, ma’am,” The Raptor pilot warned, “Might wanna sit down and put your belt back on.”
Cain gave him a pat on the shoulder, then shifted back to her seat and put on her seatbelt, looking at the other soldiers in the Hold. Though the Raptor was small and cramped, removing the coms and Electronic Warfare systems allowed it to house a few more guys and girls. Do that to two Raptors and one could easily pack in MISFIT Platoon, or at least the members that were already with the TRAVELLER Program.
It was a very colorful bunch. Every corner of the Colonies was represented among their rank and file, though that was apparently by design. Even now, some thirty-odd years after the Cylon War, the Colonies weren’t quite as unified as many would like to believe. There were political frictions from Caprica to Aerilon itself. Without a common threat, the peace they’d established after soundly beating the Toasters repeatedly was looking like it was going to come crashing down.
And now that Rhea’s Cult was starting to make moves again, she felt as though the sims they made about a possible Colonial Civil War were going to be too conservative on estimated casualties. Provided the Cylons didn’t swing back in to finish the job, of course. That was as possible as anything else.
The crew braced as the landing struts of the craft, magnetic skids designed to help the ship catch onto the deck of the Battlestar’s pods, extended with a mechanical whirr. Moments later, the craft touched down with a thunderous clang in the hangar, right atop one of the multitude of lifts meant to take recovered birds down to the deck for repairs, refits and so on.
As the elevator descended, Cain undid the latch of her harness and said to the pilots, “Thanks for the ride, kids,” before she looked around and said, “Don’t get too comfortable. We’re literally one jump away from Gemenon…” as she walked over. While they could have easily made that jump in a pair of Raptors, Cain figured they needed the presence of a Battlestar to ensure a level of compliance.
The Gemenese were sometimes fiercely independent and defensive of their shrines. Pissing them off by just going in with a ground detachment was not the smartest idea in the world. A Battlestar would keep them in check, or at least make sure only the craziest cultists would come down on them for trying to ‘dessecrate’ a holy site.
The woman saluted the staff as they disembarked from the birds, with the Misfits rallying up in the middle of the Hangar. A young, beautiful blonde woman with deep blue eyes approached from the other ship with a smile, snapping a salute and greeting Vik, “Lieutenant… Good to see you again,” as she looked him in the eye. She also looked at Sarah, then said, “And it’s awesome to see you again, Sarah.”
“Been a while, Willow,” The girl chuckled, “We oughta have this talk in the Mess, though,” and then she waited. Emphasizing her point, the staff began wheeling the two Raptors away to their docking berths with the whirr of machinery once more starting up inside the repair-and-refit section here, below the landing hangar of the Pod.
The Lieutenant nodded, then said, “Yeah. Gimme a sec,” and barked, “MISFIT PLATOON, HUDDLE UP!” as he waved his hand above his head. The troopers all turned, the two dozen or so of’em that were here, all familiar faces to the good Lieutenant. He rested his hands on his Model 240, a long general purpose machine gun with a heat shroud, optics rail mounts, a foregrip and a heavy bipod. Then, he started, “... Been a few years since we’ve seen each-other! We were all kids back in the day, eager for action… And stuck with the boring-ass duty of getting mines out of the sand on Picon!”
The group let out a short chuckle while he continued, “Each of us was either a corporal or private at the time. Since then, we’ve all gotten a few upgrades…” then he smirked and pointed out one of their Marine buddies, “Save for Dushman. Buddy’s still a frakking Lance Corporal,” which immediately got a few laughs out of the group.
“Least I didn’t suck an officer’s dick to get myself promoted!” Dushman shot back with a smirk, which immediately intensified the laughter.
“Hey, LC Underground, that wasn’t a dig,” The Gunner replied, though he was still smiling, “Obviously, though, we’ve all grown in a few ways. Rank, age, experience. The fact we’re all still officially military makes me happy… I figured that’d be how we’d all rally back up with each-other. What I didn’t expect was the fact we’re getting hired to be Admiral Cain’s personal hit squad for her fledgling little program!”
“Ahoo!” Cheered the entire formation, some throwing their fists up with smiles. Sarah herself gave a quick salute and a grin, while the man continued his little speech, “... Hitsquad or not, though, I’d say let’s not waste this opportunity! We got a hell of a lot of work layin’ out ahead of us, so let’s do what we do best! Kick some ass, whoever’s ass it may be, and get ourselves home in time for dinner.”
“... It’s good to see you all again. Let’s stick together just like back on Picon. Ahoo?!”
“Ahoo! Enyalius!” They all replied in kind, raising balled fists into the sky. Willow and her two friends, a ginger with a buxom chest named Alicia and a tiny, black-haired girl with dark eyes and a tan named Lyra, all smiled proudly. Vik smiled back, then said, “Alright, dismissed! Let’s get to the mess. Stay in gear and be ready to drop.”
… The Pegasus CIC’s doors turned, opening up to the main command area where various computers beeped and bleeped and made noises Cain could barely understand. Her Executive Officer snapped a salute when he saw her entering and called out, “ADMIRAL ON DECK!” which immediately spurned the other members of crew to stand up.
She answered quickly, then told them, “At ease. Status on the FTL Drive?”
“Charged and ready, ma’am,” The man answered as the Rear Admiral leaned against the table in the middle of the room, an eight-shaped, angular design with various computer screens and a central, lit up portion designed to help visualize starmaps. Above, the DRADIS system–Direction, RAnge, DIStance–whined and whirred as its multi-layered scanners pinged multiple allied ship and fighter IFFs on the wide screen, plus the Battlestations around Caprica. The XO asked, “... We sure it’s wise to take a full Battlestar and her escort to a Colony, ma’am?”
“You know firsthand how the Gemenese get when asked about their religious stuff,” The woman replied as she looked at the starmaps laid out on the table, some of which had red lines and arrows drawn across them to denote patrol lanes. She continued calmly, “It’s why I like having you guys around when we visit temples. Makes for an easier experience.”
The man, Gemenese by birth, but an agnostic type, chuckled and said, “Fair enough, ma’am. My family’s going to be happy to see me visiting after so long, that’s for sure…”
“Hope they don’t mind if we check out a few shrines,” The woman mumbled, then pulled out a paper piece that noted the Coordinates of the Shrine itself and the item they were supposed to be looking for. Doc had already gone on to call up all the other necessary stuff from the various museums in the Colonies, meaning once they had this last tiny Rhean artifact, they could quite easily get the Gate rolling.
… Or at least the woman hoped so. Knowing their luck, though…
Stargate Command Laboratories
The hallways of Stargate Command remained unsurprisingly busy. The guards, a combination of personnel from the three main ground and air branches of the United States Military, namely the Army, Air Force and Marine Corps, patrolled or walked across the various hallways, armed and unarmed alike.
Staff in simple jumpsuits with the patches of Stargate Command on their shoulders were working around the clock to upkeep the base, or were simply off-duty and enjoying their time off. Juno noticed all of this as she walked over to the labs, where Major Carter had summoned her in order to discuss the Gate Addresses they’d acquired from the Cartouche on their planet.
In said laboratories, she found the woman and several other scientists working on a multitude of projects that ranged from what she had read were Naquadah reactors to the data on the holodisk itself. The Blonde looked up from her strange computer device, a ‘laptop’ as Juno recalled, then smiled and waved her over.
The Captain approached the table and asked, “I suppose something isn’t going according to plan if you called for me?”
“... Perceptive,” Carter replied awkwardly, then said, “All of the Addresses have eight chevrons. Two of the Chevrons are repeating, obviously, because one is the Origin Point, namely the planet you were on and the other is the ‘Galactic Area Code’ for the Galaxy you’re trying to go to. The main issue I have is I can’t distinguish them. While the other symbols are familiar or similar enough to our Gates… I can’t figure out which is which between these two.”
Juno moved over to the woman’s side, looking at the list of addresses downloaded from the Holodisk and mumbled, “I’d have thought you’d need more time to get them downloaded. I was almost ready to offer one of my staff to help you with adjusting the file type so it could work with your operating systems.”
“No, that part was easy,” Carter replied, “We already have some premade programs that can help with adapting file types into text or images, notably courtesy of some help from a group of our allies called the Asgard…” which reminded the good Major they should try talking to them about any possible future energy sources to tie them to the Galaxy. She asked, “Do you recall anything on the Cartouche that might mention the planet’s origin symbol? I’d need it so I can replace it, use it on the seven-chevron codes we have here.”
“I’m afraid not,” Juno replied as she sat down and looked over the data, “... The research we had managed to do was very much preliminary, but I can provide access to more of the footage we have… Any chance you could perhaps extrapolate the data from the seven-chevron code you acquired in order to find this outpost planet?” although, no, that wouldn’t make sense…
“I could try,” She nodded, “But I’m also waiting on Jonas to finish his own translations. Maybe those will give us another clue.”
“Hopefully,” The woman mumbled, “I’ve noted the use of Aurebesh in the outpost myself, but most of what would have been there as far as technology went was broken or missing. Either because the Goa’uld sought to destroy it, or because the place had been abandoned for years before we arrived… Strange thing is, even while browsing Old Republic Logs and classified files I had, there was no mention of this outpost.”
“Maybe it was like that Outbound Flight program you mentioned…” The woman replied as she typed in a few commands and slowly rolled down the list of Gate Addresses. “That is to say, an attempt by the Republic to make contact with other Galaxies before its downfall that was classified. God knows, though, seeing as I doubt the people who were here are still alive.”
“Think the Goa’uld killed them all?” Juno asked half-heartedly.
“Or they went home,” Sam answered quickly, “Which, considering they’re unlikely to have known about the whole ‘Origin and Galaxy Code Chevron’ issue…”
“... Really?” Juno asked. She appreciated an attempt to alleviate her concerns, that if there had indeed been a Republic force in this Galaxy, they weren’t dead, just home. But no, that site felt all too ancient. Far beyond even the Old Republic Pre-Clone Wars… “I appreciate the attempt at soothing my mind, Major, but I’m a fair bit tougher than that.”
“I didn’t mean to imply you weren’t,” Carter answered, “And you can call me Carter, or Sam.”
“You’re a rank above me according to the military structure of the United States,” Juno stated sardonically. She’d spent the past few hours studying their newfound allies’ military capabilities. Or what little information about them she had access to, what with their signing of their provisory alliance treaty.
“So?” Carter answered as she switched out to the next set of coordinates and data after their decryption, “Doesn’t mean we can’t be civil.”
“Then call me Juno,” The woman replied calmly as she, too, studied more of the Cartouche’s data, “... I’m shocked that whoever made the outpost in our own Galaxy didn’t bother to mark the… Y’know, the Planet’s own symbol. If I recall correctly, these are tied to Constellations, right?” as her mind seemed to… Maybe get an idea.
“Yes?” Sam nodded, “The only symbol not matching that is on our own Gate, weirdly enough. It’s our Origin Point.”
“I see,” The woman mumbled. Her eyes widened as the metaphorical light-bulb lit up above her head. She quickly told Sam, “... I think I have an idea. Like the Gate, our ships need to account for Stellar Drift during Hyperspace calculations in order to avoid landing either too close to a Gravity Well, whether it be a star’s or a planet’s, or too far from our intended target. Said Coordinates also require a direct reference on the astrogation chart of the Constellation…”
“... You could extrapolate the data we need from the shipboard computers,” The Major spoke, eyes widening, “That’s very smart, but the issue is:Where are we gonna get data from your people’s Hyperspace Cores or navigation computers when we can’t even get to your Galaxy? There’s no way there’ll just be a ship from your Galaxy just laying around anywhere we can reach.”
“I keep astrogation data in a personal datapad under three layers of encryption,” The woman replied as she pulled it out, “While I don’t have the keys on me due to compartmentalization, I could ask General Kota about it.”
“What if he thinks you’re the one who gave your people up?” The Major’s mind immediately went to the worst possible scenario.
Juno smiled, “I appreciate that quick thinking. We could use more people like you in the Rebellion,” then she set the datapad, a bulky-looking object that almost resembled a mix of a high-tech typewriter and one of the prototyped touch-screen devices that would probably soon overtake the entire planet and become as ubiquitous as the new Personal Computers and Laptops. Juno then told Sam, “But my coms and the coms of just about everyone in my cell were monitored by my request. Even my protocol droid’s chatter with others was monitored.”
“Hell of a way to live,” The woman murmured, “But I guess you’d know how damaging an information leak can be, right?”
“Being a former Imperial, I sure do,” She answered as she activated her Datapad. She mumbled, “Yes, they’re still encrypted… Good to know,” then stood up and said, “I’ll go talk to Kota. Get you this Data so we may get our options in order and prepare for when we inevitably move out… Thanks for the help, Carter.”
“You’re welcome,” The woman replied with a smile. They exchanged short salutes before both went back to their usual work.
Elsewhere in the base, Katrya and Faoh, the Twi’Lek and Mandalorian of the squad respectively, were playing what the local human population had called Chess, with Faoh commenting, “... This place genuinely has everything. I mean, a bathhouse, showers, actual warm food and genuinely comfortable beds…”
“Gar Serim…” Chuckled the Twi’lek as she shifted a piece over. They’d been taught the rough rules, namely how to move the pawns and pieces and that if they catch the king with certain ones, they got a check. If the King couldn’t move, that was a checkmate and thus a win for the other, so on. “Think I’m getting better in my Mando speech?”
“Somewhat,” The girl said, waggling her right hand a bit, “You could still use a bit of work on it if you wanna get your little cyare to notice you,” with a smirk. She could swear the Twi’lek slightly changed shades out of embarrassment, which made her giggle as she said, “You really do like my brother, don’t you?”
“He’s a good man,” She answered softly, “Meanwhile, you seem to like the people here.”
“Lots of lookers,” The Mandalorian shrugged.
The girl nodded, then asked, “Hey, speaking of Mandalore… Where’s your armor?”
“Still on the Valorous,” She answered calmly and shifted a chess piece forward, “Hopefully, the Imps haven’t shot it out of the sky. I was planning on actually going home after this little outing, see how my Clanmates are doing,” before she crossed her arms to her chest. Rebels scarcely got any sort of time off, especially not to visit a planet occupied by the Empire.
But Faoh did not mean Mandalore. Her people were settled on Concordia, which was a bit more out of the way to the Empire and not easy to occupy, especially not when half the mines there had been turned into hardened underground structures. Katrya commented, “I guess that makes some sense. They wouldn’t recognize you without the Armor.”
“The Protectors would,” She chuckled, “Remember, my father is one of them. And we are descended from Mandalore the Preserver,” before scratching the back of her head. Ah, yeah, she did mention that, thought Kat. She was part of the famed Clan Ordo, one of the Great Warrior Clans of Mandalore, those who formed the Protectors and left their homeworld after the Kryze Dynasty took over and ‘pacified’ the planet’s culture.
She chuckled and said, “I still remember you being so miffed at the Duchess taking the planet over…” as though they’d known each-other a while. The two were childhood friends, with Kat herself having been raised among the Mandalorian Protectors as part of a small support group. Her father was slated to join Clan Ordo as an added member rather than a blood-related one, but sadly the Empire came to being… They’d met on Ryloth itself.
“I was pissed because my dad was,” The woman said solemnly, “... Now, I don’t know. Only person I can wish ill upon from that entire family is Bo-Katan. Not that that schutta doesn’t deserve it, but she’s lost her sister. And Kryze wasn’t anywhere near as bad as she could’ve been with us. It’s the Death Watch that has always been a problem.”
“Yeah, you mention that every once in a while,” more like once every conversation about Mandalore, Katrya thought as she shifted her own piece next. She started to say something, but paused when a young man stumbled into the place. The brown-haired human that was busy studying the writings walked over to the mess hall’s buffet and Kat immediately noticed Faoh staring at him with a smirk.
… She also noticed she was losing, so she quickly adjusted some of the pieces’ positions to give herself a better advantage before settling back into her seat and saying, “You like him, don’t you~?” with a teasing voice. The Mandalorian blanked, eyes widening before her face flushed. The Twi’lek grinned.
“We barely know each-other, you dumb Twi’lek,” She started annoyedly, face still red, “Plus, he looks like a nerd.”
“A handsome nerd~,” She teased again, then looked over and waved, “Hey, Jonas Quinn! Come here a second!”
“What the Kriff are you doing!?” The Mando demanded, almost slamming her fist into the table in anger. The young man walked over and the Mandalorian immediately shifted to trying to play it cool, saying, “‘sup, Vod,” with a tiny smirk. He blinked, then waved awkwardly while the Twi’lek chuckled, watching her friend flounder a bit. The Mandalorian quickly said, “Excuse my Twi’lek friend here… She’s a bit of an airhead.”
“No, I’m pretty sure you wanted to talk to him,” The Twi’lek grinned mischievously and winked.
Jonas hummed, then said, “Sorry I can’t sit by and chat. Still got a lot of translations to go through,” and looked at Faoh. He suggested, “We can probably chat after I’m done! I actually wanna learn about your people, by the way! Nix mentioned some really interesting stuff about the Mandalorians’ history when he and his wife were helping me with translations!”
“Sure,” She replied with a friendly, but cool tone, “You just tell me when. I and Kat will be hanging around,” and got a smile out of him, which made her heart skip a beat. The man quickly saluted and excused himself, before running out and waving at them. She waved back, then the moment he disappeared behind the door, she turned with a growl toward Kat, who was laughing, and pulled her by one of the Lekku HARD, calling out, “KRIFF’S SAKE, YOU SCHUTTA! AT LEAST LEMME TAKE MY DAMN TIME!”
“Haha, owowow, SORRY!” The girl replied, still giggling.
Translations:
Gar Serim(Mando’a)-You’re right
Cyare(Mando’a)-Beloved
Schutta(Huttese)-Bitch