Fic - "Going Native part 52"
Woo! Part 52 of Going Native, the BSG/STNG crossover! Things are heating up!
The wireless poll results were pleasing. The squeals of horror from various commentators about the Cylon basestar was decidedly less pleasant and Roslin turned it off after a moment. She wasn’t overjoyed with a Cylon basestar sitting in visual range but she had no intention of protesting it at all. It would not do to tell their hosts whom they could receive and whom not. And there were more important things to do. Like catching up. Felix Gaeta had told her that he was from Earth and not much else, so she had a lot of reading to do if she was going to negotiate a treaty. The more she read about the Federation, the more she realized that the Twelve Colonies, even before the holocaust, would have been incredibly backward in comparison to most of Earth’s many colonies. The Enterprise could easily defeat the Cylon basestar, before Bill’s pilots could even launch. He was keeping the crew on condition two, but she suspected that was more to get people to sober up than out of fear.
She was pleased to see that if the vote was held that day, the people would overwhelmingly choose settling on a new colony world. That was reassuring. There had been some campaigning for settling on Earth but the Enterprise’s ability to protect them, coupled with the news that Earth was really much different than the colonies, people were wanting to stay together more than they wanted to rush to a new place with new people. There would always be plenty of time for that, once they were safely settled and could afford the luxury of having things than naked survival to worry about.
Of course there would be some new faces as well. Part of the package would be colonists from Earth, or at least from its satellite worlds, and also technical advisors and personnel. Some would be from Starfleet and some would be civilian contractors. They could hardly say no, there were so many technical positions that needed to be filled, so many jobs that the people in the fleet just didn’t know how to do. If New Caprica had taught her anything, it was that there were very few people in the fleet who knew much about farming or house building or plumbing, let alone more advanced specialties. Most of the survivors who weren’t military had been middle aged managers with jobs in sales and marketing, traveling between colonies. And there were still prisoners in the Astral Queen that had been serving sentences for rape and murder before the destruction of the colonies….
After a moment she smiled. All problems, and big ones, but they were the problems of hope, and not despair. She had held her hand on the throttle of the fleet, and it had burned, holding it together, but… It had worked. She might be out of office in the next election, she might even die of a brain aneurysm in the next five minutes but…. She had brought the fleet to safety, to the safety of the 13th colony.
It was pleasant, just to think about. The new colony would be different, the children would have different values but… In the end, the Twelve Colonies would go on, and she was one of the reasons why.
The hatch door wheel turned. Laura looked up in surprise. Bill’s quarters were somewhat inviolate. Much to her surprise, Ambassador Troi entered the room, holding a large box, looking cheerful. Behind her was Commander Riker, and he didn’t look cheerful at all. That was interesting.
“Well, this is exactly how I expected the Admiral’s quarters to look,” Troi said with a sniff. “A shrine to his masculinity. Human males can be very predictable, don’t you agree, Cmdr. Riker?” She handed the large box to Laura. “This is for you, but it’s not why I am here. I have a concern that I have to bring to the attention of Starfleet and the Federation, and I wanted to make sure you were aware of the issue as well. After all, I am a guest here.”
Laura tensed. Ambassador Troi was smooth. Flamboyant certainly, and charming in an extroverted way, but Laura had a feeling that one didn’t become a Federation ambassador without serious credentials. Worse, Troi was clearly friendly with Riker, and that gave Riker and Starfleet the advantage. “What seems to be the trouble?”
“You have a prisoner in your brig, a Dr. Gaius Baltar.” Troi took a seat next to her on the leather couch and waved her hand. “A disgusting man, all things considered. And quite insane. It was almost amusing really, when it wasn’t disgusting.”
Wonderful, Laura thought darkly. That was exactly the last person she wanted any political ambassador to meet. “If you’re concerned about his living conditions….Frankly he is living better than the vast majority of the people in the fleet.”
Troi smiled. “No, while he made sure to draw attention to his condition, and the lack of justice he perceives, that’s not what he was so desperate to discuss. He told me that Lt. Cmdr. Felix Gaeta gave him a notebook filled with calculations and technical information on warp drives.”
“What?” Riker snapped as Laura let out the breath she’d been holding. It wasn’t good, but considering Troi’s abilities, she was expecting much worse. Riker was angry though, and that was a bad sign. “Was he telling the truth?”
“In that he believes what he was saying, yes.” Troi nodded sagely. “That doesn’t mean it happened, just that he believes it happened. I assure you, Dr. Baltar truly believes any number of things that aren’t actually real.” She eyed Laura carefully. “However, real or not, it could be evidence of a Prime Directive violation and I do have to report it. It will need to be investigated.”
“Where is this notebook?” Riker asked, his expression concerned.
“Dr. Baltar said he put it in amongst his scientific papers. Papers he believes were later moved to the Galactica.” Troi said.
And Laura began to get the sense that while it wasn’t bad news for her, it could still be bad. “What is the problem? Clearly if this did happen, Dr. Baltar never did anything with the knowledge.” And that burned her, but she clamped down on that as soon as the thought came to her.
Riker stepped around the small office, clearly trying to find a way to say something unpleasant. “Lt. Cmdr. Gaeta has confessed to violating the Prime Directive. He hasn’t been asked to detail his actions because… frankly, his mental stability has been in question. I’ve seen the reports from our ship counselor. He’s suicidal, suffering from post traumatic stress disorder and survivor guilt and Captain Picard didn’t want to play into that guilt by pushing the issue. Particularly when there isn’t much evidence. Mr. Gaeta did say that he had plotted your route, but if the route came in part from the hologram program in your Temple of Athena…”
“The route this fleet took was decided by me. Admiral Adama took his orders from me, and not from a lieutenant.” Roslin let her voice edge into steely coldness. “Mr. Gaeta was a valued advisor, saying anything else would be a lie, but be assured, Cmdr. Riker, that the course to Earth was my decision, and I did what the gods told me.”
The best sort of lies were the ones that were mostly true.
Riker seemed to mentally adjust himself with a nod of his head. “Yes, I understand that your faith… your visions… are something you believe in.” He was good at covering his feelings, Laura had to give him that. “My point, Madame President, is that the route, and Mr. Gaeta’s confession, doesn’t rise to a significant violation. You would have gotten here without him. He didn’t reveal himself as being from Earth, he didn’t do anything but use star charts that you found. You don’t use warp technology but you are space faring so it can be argued that in your case the prime directive doesn’t apply. It barely rises to a reprimand.”
“Why do I sense there’s a but?” Laura asked softly.
“Writing down instructions on how to recreate our technology….” Riker sighed. “I understand the temptation, but even if Dr. Baltar ignored it, someone could have picked it up and done terrible things with it. Imagine if your enemies had found written instructions on how to create our drives or our weapons. Leaving evidence of higher technology is a serious violation.”
“How serious?” Roslin asked. The fact that Riker was so intent meant it didn’t bode well for Gaeta, she could see that. Troi merely nodded and looked at Riker as well.
“The fact that it wasn’t used is a plus,” Riker said after a moment. “It would mean a court martial. Possibly some prison time but minimal. While it shouldn’t matter, his family is highly placed, and the circumstances would have to be taken into account as well. He‘d have to leave Starfleet.”
“Some welcome home,” Laura said. “ A court martial and prison. And yet you seem surprised at the idea he’s suicidal.”
“No one *wants* this, Madame President.” Riker’s tone took on a hard edge. “But its our duty to investigate it. Are Dr. Baltar’s papers available to look at? That could settle this easily.”
“They’re in his old lab, and no, its not available to you.” Laura thought fast. “We don’t have a signed treaty. Dr. Baltar was a lot of things, and one of those things is a genuine scientific prodigy. Until we have a treaty, what little scientific research we have is off limits.”
Riker took that in with a blink of his eyes. “That’s understood. Of course, I need to make a report to Captain Picard. And… to maintain the chain of evidence, do you want to discuss setting guards by the laboratory, or would you like me to broach that subject with Admiral Adama?”
Laura had to admit, the man was clever. “I’m sure you’ll see the Admiral first.” Riker smirked slightly as he left, leaving her alone with Ambassador Troi. Which was awkward.
“He’s not lying, by the way.” Troi said it matter of factly. “ Will, that is. He has to investigate a charge, because that’s his duty. But no one wants to look very hard.”
“How do you know that?” Laura asked.
“Well, I am a telepath,” Troi said brightly. “And I know Will. And if you really think about it, you know I’m right. After all, it’s patently ridiculous that there’s only one person in this entire little fleet of the damned that knows how to start the engine. And Jean-Luc is well aware of the capabilities that your Mr. Gaeta possesses and yet no one from Starfleet has even suggested that Mr. Gaeta might’ve done something. It’s… understood that the answer might be unpleasant, and that once it’s said out loud, it can’t be unsaid.” Troi smiled at her. “I’m not known for being discreet. Just the opposite in fact, which makes the reality that I am very discreet all the more amusing to me.” She eyed Roslin carefully. “You are hiding something, and I know it has nothing to do with this notebook. If you’re smart, you’ll continue to be silent.”
That was unsettling. “What does that mean?”
Troi shrugged as she stood up. “ If it had been me in your position, and a young man came to me and told me he was the child of one of our gods sent to save us and take us to safety, and then demonstrated a power I had never seen before… I’m sure I would have at least listened. And if it happened that the young man did lead us to safety…. I’d feel grateful. Grateful enough to be quiet, and that’s a good thing. After all Betazed men and women can’t testify to the thoughts of others, just the words.”
A warning then, and a surprising one considering that she had a feeling Troi didn’t like her at all. “I’ll take that under advisement.”
“Good.” Troi tapped the large box she had brought. “This is for you. The color will match Admiral Adama’s eyes. Now I need to be going. I’m teaching a class in Betazed Nude Massage in the pilot barracks.” She sniffed with surprise. “To a point, I think you colonials will get along just fine in the Federation. You’re a lot more fun.”
The woman left with a flourish that Roslin realized was more practiced than she had originally thought. An interesting woman, she thought as she opened the box. Inside was a lovely formal dress, a shade of blue that did indeed match Bill’s eyes, and in a style that was amply appropriate for diplomatic talks. Laura grinned as she held up the first new clothes she’d had since the attack on Caprica. She definitely owed the Ambassador from Betazed a favor or two.
The wireless poll results were pleasing. The squeals of horror from various commentators about the Cylon basestar was decidedly less pleasant and Roslin turned it off after a moment. She wasn’t overjoyed with a Cylon basestar sitting in visual range but she had no intention of protesting it at all. It would not do to tell their hosts whom they could receive and whom not. And there were more important things to do. Like catching up. Felix Gaeta had told her that he was from Earth and not much else, so she had a lot of reading to do if she was going to negotiate a treaty. The more she read about the Federation, the more she realized that the Twelve Colonies, even before the holocaust, would have been incredibly backward in comparison to most of Earth’s many colonies. The Enterprise could easily defeat the Cylon basestar, before Bill’s pilots could even launch. He was keeping the crew on condition two, but she suspected that was more to get people to sober up than out of fear.
She was pleased to see that if the vote was held that day, the people would overwhelmingly choose settling on a new colony world. That was reassuring. There had been some campaigning for settling on Earth but the Enterprise’s ability to protect them, coupled with the news that Earth was really much different than the colonies, people were wanting to stay together more than they wanted to rush to a new place with new people. There would always be plenty of time for that, once they were safely settled and could afford the luxury of having things than naked survival to worry about.
Of course there would be some new faces as well. Part of the package would be colonists from Earth, or at least from its satellite worlds, and also technical advisors and personnel. Some would be from Starfleet and some would be civilian contractors. They could hardly say no, there were so many technical positions that needed to be filled, so many jobs that the people in the fleet just didn’t know how to do. If New Caprica had taught her anything, it was that there were very few people in the fleet who knew much about farming or house building or plumbing, let alone more advanced specialties. Most of the survivors who weren’t military had been middle aged managers with jobs in sales and marketing, traveling between colonies. And there were still prisoners in the Astral Queen that had been serving sentences for rape and murder before the destruction of the colonies….
After a moment she smiled. All problems, and big ones, but they were the problems of hope, and not despair. She had held her hand on the throttle of the fleet, and it had burned, holding it together, but… It had worked. She might be out of office in the next election, she might even die of a brain aneurysm in the next five minutes but…. She had brought the fleet to safety, to the safety of the 13th colony.
It was pleasant, just to think about. The new colony would be different, the children would have different values but… In the end, the Twelve Colonies would go on, and she was one of the reasons why.
The hatch door wheel turned. Laura looked up in surprise. Bill’s quarters were somewhat inviolate. Much to her surprise, Ambassador Troi entered the room, holding a large box, looking cheerful. Behind her was Commander Riker, and he didn’t look cheerful at all. That was interesting.
“Well, this is exactly how I expected the Admiral’s quarters to look,” Troi said with a sniff. “A shrine to his masculinity. Human males can be very predictable, don’t you agree, Cmdr. Riker?” She handed the large box to Laura. “This is for you, but it’s not why I am here. I have a concern that I have to bring to the attention of Starfleet and the Federation, and I wanted to make sure you were aware of the issue as well. After all, I am a guest here.”
Laura tensed. Ambassador Troi was smooth. Flamboyant certainly, and charming in an extroverted way, but Laura had a feeling that one didn’t become a Federation ambassador without serious credentials. Worse, Troi was clearly friendly with Riker, and that gave Riker and Starfleet the advantage. “What seems to be the trouble?”
“You have a prisoner in your brig, a Dr. Gaius Baltar.” Troi took a seat next to her on the leather couch and waved her hand. “A disgusting man, all things considered. And quite insane. It was almost amusing really, when it wasn’t disgusting.”
Wonderful, Laura thought darkly. That was exactly the last person she wanted any political ambassador to meet. “If you’re concerned about his living conditions….Frankly he is living better than the vast majority of the people in the fleet.”
Troi smiled. “No, while he made sure to draw attention to his condition, and the lack of justice he perceives, that’s not what he was so desperate to discuss. He told me that Lt. Cmdr. Felix Gaeta gave him a notebook filled with calculations and technical information on warp drives.”
“What?” Riker snapped as Laura let out the breath she’d been holding. It wasn’t good, but considering Troi’s abilities, she was expecting much worse. Riker was angry though, and that was a bad sign. “Was he telling the truth?”
“In that he believes what he was saying, yes.” Troi nodded sagely. “That doesn’t mean it happened, just that he believes it happened. I assure you, Dr. Baltar truly believes any number of things that aren’t actually real.” She eyed Laura carefully. “However, real or not, it could be evidence of a Prime Directive violation and I do have to report it. It will need to be investigated.”
“Where is this notebook?” Riker asked, his expression concerned.
“Dr. Baltar said he put it in amongst his scientific papers. Papers he believes were later moved to the Galactica.” Troi said.
And Laura began to get the sense that while it wasn’t bad news for her, it could still be bad. “What is the problem? Clearly if this did happen, Dr. Baltar never did anything with the knowledge.” And that burned her, but she clamped down on that as soon as the thought came to her.
Riker stepped around the small office, clearly trying to find a way to say something unpleasant. “Lt. Cmdr. Gaeta has confessed to violating the Prime Directive. He hasn’t been asked to detail his actions because… frankly, his mental stability has been in question. I’ve seen the reports from our ship counselor. He’s suicidal, suffering from post traumatic stress disorder and survivor guilt and Captain Picard didn’t want to play into that guilt by pushing the issue. Particularly when there isn’t much evidence. Mr. Gaeta did say that he had plotted your route, but if the route came in part from the hologram program in your Temple of Athena…”
“The route this fleet took was decided by me. Admiral Adama took his orders from me, and not from a lieutenant.” Roslin let her voice edge into steely coldness. “Mr. Gaeta was a valued advisor, saying anything else would be a lie, but be assured, Cmdr. Riker, that the course to Earth was my decision, and I did what the gods told me.”
The best sort of lies were the ones that were mostly true.
Riker seemed to mentally adjust himself with a nod of his head. “Yes, I understand that your faith… your visions… are something you believe in.” He was good at covering his feelings, Laura had to give him that. “My point, Madame President, is that the route, and Mr. Gaeta’s confession, doesn’t rise to a significant violation. You would have gotten here without him. He didn’t reveal himself as being from Earth, he didn’t do anything but use star charts that you found. You don’t use warp technology but you are space faring so it can be argued that in your case the prime directive doesn’t apply. It barely rises to a reprimand.”
“Why do I sense there’s a but?” Laura asked softly.
“Writing down instructions on how to recreate our technology….” Riker sighed. “I understand the temptation, but even if Dr. Baltar ignored it, someone could have picked it up and done terrible things with it. Imagine if your enemies had found written instructions on how to create our drives or our weapons. Leaving evidence of higher technology is a serious violation.”
“How serious?” Roslin asked. The fact that Riker was so intent meant it didn’t bode well for Gaeta, she could see that. Troi merely nodded and looked at Riker as well.
“The fact that it wasn’t used is a plus,” Riker said after a moment. “It would mean a court martial. Possibly some prison time but minimal. While it shouldn’t matter, his family is highly placed, and the circumstances would have to be taken into account as well. He‘d have to leave Starfleet.”
“Some welcome home,” Laura said. “ A court martial and prison. And yet you seem surprised at the idea he’s suicidal.”
“No one *wants* this, Madame President.” Riker’s tone took on a hard edge. “But its our duty to investigate it. Are Dr. Baltar’s papers available to look at? That could settle this easily.”
“They’re in his old lab, and no, its not available to you.” Laura thought fast. “We don’t have a signed treaty. Dr. Baltar was a lot of things, and one of those things is a genuine scientific prodigy. Until we have a treaty, what little scientific research we have is off limits.”
Riker took that in with a blink of his eyes. “That’s understood. Of course, I need to make a report to Captain Picard. And… to maintain the chain of evidence, do you want to discuss setting guards by the laboratory, or would you like me to broach that subject with Admiral Adama?”
Laura had to admit, the man was clever. “I’m sure you’ll see the Admiral first.” Riker smirked slightly as he left, leaving her alone with Ambassador Troi. Which was awkward.
“He’s not lying, by the way.” Troi said it matter of factly. “ Will, that is. He has to investigate a charge, because that’s his duty. But no one wants to look very hard.”
“How do you know that?” Laura asked.
“Well, I am a telepath,” Troi said brightly. “And I know Will. And if you really think about it, you know I’m right. After all, it’s patently ridiculous that there’s only one person in this entire little fleet of the damned that knows how to start the engine. And Jean-Luc is well aware of the capabilities that your Mr. Gaeta possesses and yet no one from Starfleet has even suggested that Mr. Gaeta might’ve done something. It’s… understood that the answer might be unpleasant, and that once it’s said out loud, it can’t be unsaid.” Troi smiled at her. “I’m not known for being discreet. Just the opposite in fact, which makes the reality that I am very discreet all the more amusing to me.” She eyed Roslin carefully. “You are hiding something, and I know it has nothing to do with this notebook. If you’re smart, you’ll continue to be silent.”
That was unsettling. “What does that mean?”
Troi shrugged as she stood up. “ If it had been me in your position, and a young man came to me and told me he was the child of one of our gods sent to save us and take us to safety, and then demonstrated a power I had never seen before… I’m sure I would have at least listened. And if it happened that the young man did lead us to safety…. I’d feel grateful. Grateful enough to be quiet, and that’s a good thing. After all Betazed men and women can’t testify to the thoughts of others, just the words.”
A warning then, and a surprising one considering that she had a feeling Troi didn’t like her at all. “I’ll take that under advisement.”
“Good.” Troi tapped the large box she had brought. “This is for you. The color will match Admiral Adama’s eyes. Now I need to be going. I’m teaching a class in Betazed Nude Massage in the pilot barracks.” She sniffed with surprise. “To a point, I think you colonials will get along just fine in the Federation. You’re a lot more fun.”
The woman left with a flourish that Roslin realized was more practiced than she had originally thought. An interesting woman, she thought as she opened the box. Inside was a lovely formal dress, a shade of blue that did indeed match Bill’s eyes, and in a style that was amply appropriate for diplomatic talks. Laura grinned as she held up the first new clothes she’d had since the attack on Caprica. She definitely owed the Ambassador from Betazed a favor or two.