Standard Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to a blessed thing when it comes to the principle characters or story. I'm just borrowing the lot of them for a bit for fun and games, not material profit. I also owe an enormous (Mercury-class Battlestar sized) thanks to my beta reader Pam Barker, who has given me the needed kick in the pants to give this my all from the start, and to The Sidhe, who provided a couple plot points. Thanks also to everyone who has written in so far; you're what keeps this story going! Remember, tho': More Feedback More Fanfic!

For reasons that will quickly become obvious, we're switching things around this time.

Dialogue in Colonial Standard is not bolded.

Dialogue in English is bolded.

Dialogue over the wireless is always in italics.

BATTLESTAR GALACTICA

THE LONG ROAD HOME

Book II: The Summit of Pisgah

The following takes place concurrently with the events in Book I

After the battle in the Nebula, after those basestars that survived jumped away and the Fleet was safe once more, only then did the Four meet again.

The vow they arrived at was simple yet went unspoken: protect humanity, protect the Fleet, protect each other, and protect themselves. In that order and without exception.

For a short time, they accomplished precisely this. They watched each other as cautiously as they attended to any external threat; each dreading the day they knew would come when their caution would no longer suffice.

Colonial Basestar Nemesis

378 Standard days since commissioning

731 Standard days since last Cylon contact

Pilot's Briefing (in progress)

The star system appeared on the projection screen as nothing but a series of circles in a perfectly aligned orbit about another circle. It was apparently the best that could be managed with the still un-repaired damage throughout the ship. The six pilots and ECOs didn't appear to mind; most of them had received their wings and qualifications within just the past few days and none of them really had cause to complain.

Their CAG stepped up to the lectern and extended an old-fashioned pointer towards the screen. "This is our best representation of the star system we're approaching. Approximately seven planets of varying sizes, with a handful of planetoids at its outer edges and closer to it star. Our mission is to scout the system out as best we can before the rest of the Fleet jumps in."

One of the pilots raised his hand. It was an Arean native Connor Pohl, call sign Rockjaw, and the only one present who had been in the cockpit for more than a week. "Ma'am?" The CAG nodded for him to continue. "Are we all jumping in together, and where's our insertion point?"

"Good questions," the CAG nodded in a rare show of approval. "First, you will indeed all be jumping in together. Second, your insertion point will be here." She turned back and pointed to the largest planet in the group. "You will jump in ten thousand kilometers over this planet. Remote sensors show it is a gas giant, so entering at that point shouldn't cause you any problems."

"Provided there's nothing else there," one of the younger pilots put in quietly. The CAG couldn't tell who made the comment, although she had a very good idea, and didn't really have the energy to respond to it.

She continued instead saying, "Raptor 472, crewed by Rockjaw and Torch, will survey the region immediately around the gas giant and chart every moon and bit of rock orbiting it. We need as detailed cartography as possible for when the rest of the Fleet makes the jump in.

"Raptor 110 will be crewed by Stopwatch and Digger. Your job will be to maintain position and act as DEW for the others.

"Finally, Raptor 225 will be crewed by Javelin and Jumper. You two are to carry out an initial survey of the asteroid belt we've detected between the gas giant and the fourth planet of the system. I don't need to tell you all how thin our supplies are getting, hence our sending out just three Raptors here."

"What's our clock, Ma'am?" asked ECO Ensign Marion Allyn, call sign Digger.

The screen went dark and the room's lights snapped back on. Several of the assembled squinted for a few beats as their eyes adjusted. The CAG of course wasn't affected in the slightest. She raked her subordinates with a single clear brown eye and stated, "The Admiral has given us 24 hours to get this data together so he can make a proper decision. This is what you've trained for, Rooks." She always referred to newly commissioned pilots as Rooks; if only distinguish them from the nuggets the Nemesis was saddled with.

Captain Sharon Agathon softened her tone and continued, saying, "God and Lords willing this will be a simple run for you, but I won't lie and promise you it will be. We haven't seen nor heard from the Cylons in nearly two years, but that's no guarantee of anything. You're going to the eyes of the Fleet here."

Years later, she would remember those words and wonder at their origin. Even as a newly loomed child of God, she'd never been one for inspirational soliloquies.

Jumper chose that moment to raise his hand. "CAG?"

"Go."

"If we encounter any toasters, what're our orders?"

"Jump back here and alert CIC, in that order." She fixed all six of them with the death's glare. "No heroics out there, Rooks. Your job is to fly in and see what the terrain is, nothing else. Any other questions?" There were none. "Launch prep is in ten minutes. Get moving."

The six couldn't quit the room fast enough.

Nemesis CIC

Five hours into scouting mission

"Captain Agathon?" Athena managed not to jump at Tigh's voice sounding off unexpectedly behind her. She instead gave him cool but respectful nod over her shoulder and returned her attention to the DRADIS displays.

"Commander Tigh," she acknowledged as she turned her attention back to the DRADIS displays.

"I believe your shift ended three hours ago?"

"Yes, Sir. I switched with the XO so I could monitor the Raptors."

Tigh made a quiet, disapproving sound. "You've been on duty for what? Two days now?"

"A day and a half, Sir."

"And how does your girl feel about that?"

"Hera understands..."

"I wasn't referring to the Cadet, Captain," Tigh corrected her in a slightly frosty tone. It was equal parts reproach and teasing. This was Tigh's ship, after all, and so it was his job to know what was happening at all times.

Sharon kept herself from flinching, though only barely. "I don't think that's a major concern right now, Sir."

"Do I have to call Ishnay and confirm that?"

"No, Sir," Athena stated emphatically. A couple of the bridge crew looked up at her statement, though they quickly looked back to their own business at Tigh's withering glare.

The ship's CO leaned closer to his CAG and murmured, "Don't think I won't ground you if I hear otherwise, Captain."

Athena wasn't sure how to respond to such a statement, and so kept her mouth firmly shut. Instead, she gave her CO a firm nod and concentrated to the feed coming through DRADIS, taking careful note of the position of each of her pilots. Raptor 225 was skimming the asteroid field as directed, while Raptor 472 was moving in a wide arc through the gas giant's airspace. Raptor 110 was holding position at the apex of all this, while keeping both its fellows in sight via DRADIS and acting as watchdog for both.

She and Helo had agreed a six-hour window would provide the Rooks enough time to do their assigned jobs. This meant another hour of anxious boredom watching grunt work being done and all the while wishing she was out there with them.

The Raiders were on Condition One anyway and could be fast-launched if needed. Athena sometimes wondered how Costanza and the others who had come over from Galactica took being on alert all the time. True, they weren't flying their planes, as such, but the constant anticipation for Action Stations couldn't have been easy on them.

Tigh was still standing at her shoulder, silent as a cold Centurion. Sharon sometimes wondered at the changes in the man over the last two years; on more than one occasion she had joked with Helo how he might be one of the final three. It was the sort of joke that never stopped being funny, if only because it was too ridiculous not to laugh at it.

"Anything else, Sir?" she asked him.

"Any luck on making sense of that noise we've been picking up?"

The question caught Athena short. "No. No, Sir. Nothing intelligible. At least not that I'm aware of."

"Hmm," was Tigh's only response. A moment later he quietly added, "Get yourself to Life Station, Captain. Have Ishnay check you out again, and then retire for the day."

"Sir?"

"Did I mumble, Captain? Get out of here and don't let me see you outside of your quarters for then next twenty hours. The same goes for my XO. You two play house or whatever it is you two do at home."

"Sir, I am still able to..." Her argument was cut short by a harsh glare from the CO's remaining eye.

His response was still quiet and calm, and all the harsher for it. "These people around us can do their jobs just as well without you staring over all their shoulders. Right now, I don't need a potentially hormonal CAG making them any more nervous than they already are. So get the hell out of my CIC before I call in Rickard's Marines and have you escorted off, got it?"

"Understood, Sir," Athena nodded and gave him a parade-ground salute. She added in a slightly raised voice, "If there's nothing else, I'll be in my office if you require me, Sir."

Tigh returned the salute with his customary scowl and a dismissive nod. He didn't watch her depart confident she would do as directed. He personally had no idea why he had suddenly gotten so frakking protective of his CAG and her family. He could barely stand to be around their little girl as it was. He made sure to avoid being in that position in the first place.

It was one of the many private vows he had made to himself after being assigned command of the Nemesis; to never ever let himself be alone with Hera. Bad enough two of the four of them had been exposed and were now dead. If the rumors about that skinjob Caprica's dreams were for real, Nemesis was the absolute last place that child should be.

There was nothing for it though. He couldn't have turned down command even if he'd wanted to, not when there were really no other candidates the Old Man could trust with it. Apollo refusing to re-up was bad enough, but his continually insisting he'd seen a ghost in the Ionian Nebula had everyone wondering if the boy hadn't cracked somehow. Baltar managing to vanish completely after his trial was bad enough. But Apollo possibly losing it as well? It was a wonder Roslin and the Old Man had been able to hold things together as long as they had.

Tigh frequently found himself wondering what would have happened if Bill had been just a hair slower coming through for him and getting his commission back. Would he have actually managed to blow his brains out in that dive on Caprica? Would he have...come back somehow?

He sighed as he often did of late and put away such thoughts. My name is Saul Tigh and I am a Commander in the Fleet of the Twelve Colonies of Kobol. This is who I choose to be. He repeated this mantra to himself when such thoughts intruded.

Feeling himself centered and restored, Tigh turned his attention back to the DRADIS feed. His brow furrowed as he noted a small, almost invisible signal tracking on from Raptor 110's feed. He was about to pickup the wireless handset when Rockjaw's voice came over the comms.

"Nemesis, this is Stopwatch..."

Tigh quickly picked up the handset and stated "Stopwatch, this is Nemesis Actual. What am I seeing?"

"It, uh, looks like two bogeys, Actual. Flying in a standard patrol pairing."

"Can you ID them?"

"Negative. They're too far away for visual. We aren't reading any active scannings..."

"Spool up your engines and jump back here. I'm ordering mission abort."

"Copy that. Spooling engines for return jump."

Tigh didn't take his eyes off the main display as he barked out "Put me on general frequency for the other Raptors." He counted to five then spoken into his handset again. "This is Nemesis Actual. I am ordering mission abort. Repeat: I am ordering mission abort. Jump back to Nemesis now!" He hoped his voice didn't carry even a hint of the hysteria he felt right then.

Lowering the handset, he turned to the too-young-for-her-uniform comms specialist. "Have the XO and CAG meet me in Conference Alpha. I don't care what they're doing to each other. Get them up here now!"

"Aye-aye, Sir," the girl saluted set about her task. The rest of the bridge crew looked distinctly unsettled by their Commander's sudden shift in both tone and stance. Saul Tigh inarguably had his explosive moments, but to see him...not panicked, perhaps, but definitely nowhere near calm...

Tigh realized what a sight he must have seemed right then, and so took several calming breaths before giving his crew his patented Tigh-Glare. He focused on Kelly, who was now Senior Officer of the Watch. "Captain Kelly, you have the Bridge. Maintain position and inform Galactica I've aborted the scouting mission. Full report will follow within the hour. And Kelly?"

"Sir?"

"As soon as Raptor 110 lands, have Stopwatch bring his flight tape to Conference Alpha for review."

"Aye, Sir."

Tigh turned without acknowledging Kelly's salute, mind already jumping through the possibilities. The Old Man of course would immediately want to know why he'd unilaterally terminated a simple sneak-and-peek over a five-second DRADIS contact. Tigh would chalk it up to simple caution, noting Fleet doctrine on the books called for reconnaissance-in-force in new systems.

Despite knowing as well as anyone that Raiders didn't normally fly in pairs or in fixed patrol patterns, he actually found himself privately hoping it was the Cylons. He and his people knew how to deal with the toasters. The Colonial Fleet, as far as he knew, had never considered what would go into a 'First Contact' with another star-faring species from outside the Colonies beyond a few academic exercises. Tigh knew himself well enough to know he was the absolute last Colonial officer who should be called upon to attempt such a thing.

Well, second-to-last maybe. The late Captain Kara Thrace was the sort of person you sent in to start interstellar wars, not offer a friendly and non-threatening "Hello" to an alien people.

Commander Saul Tigh quickly squashed any further thought about his one-time personal headache and returned all his attention to the present. He and his people needed to come up with a plan to deal with this newest development.

If it was the toasters, they were using new tactics, which meant they'd adopted entirely new doctrine. He and his pilots needed to adapt accordingly.

And if it wasn't the toasters...

Tigh didn't have a clue, and thanked whatever deity might be listening there was still a Chain of Command he answered to.

These happy thoughts buoyed his spirits enough his XO and CAG found him with a genuine grin on his face when they walked into Conference Alpha a few minutes later.

In the weeks that followed the encounter in the Nebula, meeting between the four of them were infrequent. The eldest remained at his post, high in the chain of command aboard the Battlestar. The next eldest and the younger who trained to be a pilot watched him as carefully as they watched their own work.

But their caution paled in comparison to that which the eldest himself practiced, his mind suddenly alert and alive as a clear DRADIS display, seeing everything around him and sensing still more. So cleared, his mind could foresee possibilities previously missed, allowing his advice and service to become that much sharper. Had he always been this way, he wondered, deliberately dulling himself with drink so he would be of little use to anyone?

Had he always known what he was?

The next eldest took to training up his wife and every Knuckledragger who might listen and learn how to repair and rebuild vehicles and systems. He worked desperately to keep tensions cool between those who labored to keep the Fleet moving and those who defended it, never failing to strike a delicate deal that neither side would dare break. He knew himself a good taskmaster and organizer. But peacemaker? How was it he had never seen this in himself before?

The younger man gave his training the same tight focused attention he once gave making the winning score on a Pyramid Court. Despite himself, he found himself perceiving small errors and weaknesses in the tactics and doctrines employed by those he now served with. This had always been his gift, allowing him to lead his Buccaneers to victory time and again. Why had he not noticed it before now?

The youngest of them, who stood beside their President, was seen less often among them as she found herself in the same position as the eldest and the next eldest. She kept their President carefully apprised of all things, even those that she did not immediately know but could sense coming. Her instincts there never proved wrong. She had even to negotiate as if she were duly empowered by the whole of the Quorum of Twelve, who were often as not were her adversaries.

In her remembered youth, she had shown aptitude for neither organization nor negotiation. Were these abilities only coming to the fore now at some...outside directive, or had she always been thus.

Despite their vows, none of the four ever spoke of these new discoveries of themselves to each other. They felt no urge to do so, as if privately satisfied their 'discovery' of their presumed origins meant they were now capable of doing anything. In the throes of fleshly passion the youngest of them so often indulged in, they spoke nothing of themselves, only events outside.

An hour after he'd given the abort order, Tigh and his senior officers were debating their next move. Galactica Actual was likewise present, albeit over the wireless speakers.

"So give me options, Nemesis," the Old Man's voice asked with its usual rough calm.

Athena was the first to speak. She was both CAG and Ops officer, and was the one who should address tactical issues. "Having reviewed the flight tapes from Raptor 110 as well as interviewed both the pilot and ECO, I'm afraid I can't offer any immediate insights. There simply isn't enough data to confidently project either the configuration or abilities of the bogeys."

"Stopwatch stated they were flying in 'patrol formation', correct?"

"Yes, Sir. The 20-second contact he recorded showed these bogeys flying in a paired formation that closely resembles the formation our Vipers and Raiders fly CAP in. Though I should mention that if I'm calculating vectors correctly, these two were just thirty centras apart, not fifty as our own doctrine dictates."

"Why the uncertainty there, Captain?"

"Twenty seconds of DRADIS data from forty-five degrees off the elliptic is not a lot to go on, Sir. And without any kind of visual data on the configuration of the targets themselves...well, I'm pretty much guessing here."

"Understood. Commander?"

"Sir?" Tigh replied.

"Any recommendations at this time?"

"Raptor 225 did pick up traces of Tyllium and other heavy elements we can use in fabrication. In addition, the gas giant has enough large planetoids we can get some use from. I'm not ready to recommend we pull up stakes and pass this system by."

"What about the other planets?"

"Haven't had a chance to check them out yet. The second largest shows another, thicker debris ring that likely has other stuff we mine and use. I should also mention we're still trying to get a handle on all that white noise that's been disrupting the wireless networks."

"I was wondering about that, Nemesis. Have you encountered any further disruption in communication?"

Tigh looked over at Helo, who gave a short shake of his head. "Nothing serious, Galactica. It's more an annoyance right now."

"Understood. We're getting it here as well. And I agree with you we can't afford to bypass the system entirely."

"By the same token," Tigh unexpectedly cut in "I can't help feeling a tad nervous at the possibility of making contact with an unknown party."

"Agreed. We can't go rushing in blind here."

Athena stepped forward and asked "Sirs, if I may?"

"Athena?" Tigh gave her a quick nod, as if he already knew what she was about to propose.

"Give the...ambiguity we're working within, I'd like to propose we perform a full recon-in-force. A force of six Raptors and ten Raiders, breaking into two divisions of three and five respectively to both continue mapping and survey of our proposed entrance site. If anyone comes calling, we let them make the first move."

"And if the callers don't speak Colonial Standard, Captain?" Tigh prompted.

"That's why I propose three Raptors, Sir. One for astro-navigational mapping, one for survey of surrounding bodies for operational retrieval and use, and one to act as DEW and signals intercept."

"And the ten Raiders?"

"Perimeter security, Sir," Athena answered promptly. "Rules of Engagement would be Alert Four." Alert Four was just one step down from peacetime contact, and boiled down to 'Do not fire unless fired upon, do not make the first move, and leave the talking to the grown-ups.' Had the Cylons ever attempted to re-establish formal contact with the Colonies instead of just bombing them into dust, Alert Four would have been protocols employed.

A light static filled the room as Galactica Actual thought it over. Tigh kept his own peace and considered his options. Athena's plan had merit, but would risk a sizable chunk of their Air Wing, many of whom were only barely familiar with their hardware and vehicles. The Old Man knew this as well, and Tigh was not disappointed in the Admiral's next words.

"Recommendation denied, Captain. Too many planes committed to something that can be too easily misinterpreted. Besides, it's too large a chunk of our available pilots. Too many moving pieces and too much could go wrong."

"Understood, Sir." Athena voice was flat, but Tigh and Helo both caught the flash of relief in her eyes.

"Other recommendations?"

"Just that we continue with the original mission parameters, Sir. But this time send four Raptors, with two acting as DEW and the others continuing the asteroid survey."

"We have sufficient navigational data for the Fleet to jump in?"

"Yes, Sir," Tigh responded.

"Okay," the Admiral agreed after a few beats. "But make sure ROE at Alert Four. And the Raptors are to jump if they even think they're in danger."

"Understood, Actual," Tigh nodded, mirrored by his XO and CAG.

"Galactica clear." The hiss of static followed the Old Man's words, prompting Helo to cut the wireless off.The three of them stood there for a few moments afterwards.

"Captain?"

"Commander?"

"What's your gut telling you?" This both surprised and put both Agathons immediately on guard. Tigh had hardened in his role as CO, often to the point where he'd be quoting passages from the old manuals like scripture and demanding the crew follow them to the letter. It was unheard of him to ask any of his crew's feelings on anything.

"Seriously, Sir?" Athena delayed for just a moment.

"Seriously, Captain."

"I don't think it's the Cylons. My experience with Raiders is that they're solitary and too prone to, well, rashness. They only work well in a swarm because their aggressiveness means they'll fight harder to survive and know glory. But a pair of them? They'd be too likely to get distracted trying to out-fly or out-fight each other to concentrate on whatever their mission is."

Tigh went quiet, considering this, knowing intuitively that she was right. He nodded and said "Okay, fine. Have a mission plan drawn up and to me within two hours. After that, I don't want to see either of you unless called for in the next twelve hours." He gave them his best glare. "Understood?"

"Yes, Sir," the mismatched pair echoed each other. They saluted as one, turned as one, and quit the room as one.

Saul Tigh lingered behind and allowed himself a small glimmer of pride over them. Good officers, the pair of them. He could only hope Helo would be up to the task of CO when it was dropped on him in coming days.

"Aw, frak it," Tigh muttered to himself, irritated his thoughts were drifting in that direction again. He marched himself out of the room to get a mug of that black sludge that served as coffee, entirely serious about standing the watch for the next twelve hours.

"What could happen all the way out here?" the CO wondered aloud, knowing how ridiculous the sentiment was.

Nemesis CIC

Six hours and six minutes into second scouting/survey mission

Athena and Helo had both taken his orders to heart and reportedly hadn't left their quarters since Raptor 295 reported joining 225 in skimming the asteroids. Tigh found this both encouraging and unfortunate; encouraging in that it meant they were following his orders to the letter...and unfortunate for the same reasons as it left him in charge for the time being.

He watched the DRADIS displays carefully, paying closer attention to those from Raptors 110 and 472. He reasoned it was more likely they rather than either 295 or 225 would make any contact given their positioning and mission profile.

Captain Kelly was standing watch with him again, looking out of place as usual and trying to compensate for it by drifting all over the Bridge. Tigh tolerated this little quirk as it kept the less-than-artful officer from affecting the entire Bridge with his visible nerves. It helped familiarize him with many of the ad hoc systems they'd had to cobble together for the Nemesis. Many of the crew had been intimately involved in said cobbling and could do their jobs every bit as well as any of the original crew aboard the Galactica.

The various crewmembers on duty right then were used to him wandering around and so treated him as the vague distraction he was. If nothing else, he gave them something to concentrate against and make damned sure they knew their jobs well enough so an idiot like Kelly couldn't find fault with them. Tigh had, on a few occasions, mentioned this to the Old Man, who in turn looked on a modest bit of professional rivalry between ship's crews as a good thing. Their people had little enough to take pride in any more, so anything that might sharpen their blunt edges was welcome. Tigh himself wasn't so sure, but couldn't find fault in the logic.

Something caught his eye on 225's display, a vague sensor echo that had the hairs on his neck suddenly bristling. He was just picking up the wireless handset when Javelin's hushed, surprised voice came over the speakers. "Nemesis, Javelin. Have sighted two, repeat, two bogeys. Tracking at my eleven at twenty-five metras per second. Repeating: two bogeys on my eleven flying in Colonial standard patrol formation at..."

Tigh quickly cut in. "Javelin, Nemesis Actual. Have you been sighted?"

"Negative, Actual. I'm roughly five degrees east to their negative apex. They flew right over me..."

"Distance."

"Calculate...one hundred ten metras between us..."

"Can you provide a visual from your current shadow?"

"Linking in the external cams now, Actual. Feed should be coming through... now... please confirm feed..."

"Feed is coming through intact, Javelin. Maintain visual at current distance and stand-by." Tigh nodded to the youngster acting as Comms Specialist, who worked his usual magic clarifying the shaky images Jumper was transmitting.

Kelly was standing over the lad's shoulder and muttered "What in Hades'?" That was one of the few things that seriously annoyed Tigh about the man, his seeming pathological inability to actually swear like an ordinary man. He was forever tossing out the names of one of the Twelve Lords for something or other. What couldn't he just say 'Frak' like the rest of them?

His annoyance aside, Tigh quickly understood what caught Kelly up short, as Jumper's transmission was showing what could easily be mistaken for...two Colonial Mark VII Vipers. They were slightly slimmer and their lower wings a bit less elegant in shape, but the similarities were unmistakable.

Tigh felt his blood run cold. His grip on his handset tightened so hard his knuckles went white. It was only a few short minutes as he fought to remember to breathe, in that time Kelly had drifted back to his side and unintentionally shook him from his shock.

"This...this can't be for real, Sir," he stated just loud enough for Tigh's ears alone.

"Oh, it's real, Captain," Tigh heard himself stating with equal certainty. How his voice was so calm and steady he'd never know, never mind where his sudden conviction originated. "Oh, frak...!"

Just then, one of the pair executed a smooth mid-flight flip, its pointed nose now bearing directly down on the transmitting Raptor. Tigh shook off the rest of his paralysis and barked into his handset "Javelin, get your ass out of there now! Spool up and execute emergency jump!"

"Understood, Actual. Jump coordinates calculating...executing full burn for evasion...what the...?"

"Dammit, Javelin. Get yourself..." Tigh's next words were lost as another voice broke in over the comms, overriding everything else.

"Colonial Raptor, this is Colonel Kara Thrace, call sign Starbuck... formerly of the Battlestar Galactica. Colonial ID..."

Tigh didn't hear the rest, at least not consciously. The name alone echoed in his mind in a loop as it wrestled with the impossible. "Kara Thrace...call sign Starbuck..." That was all he could hear, even after Javelin reported safely jumping back to Nemesis.

Kelly had apparently recovered quicker as he asked his CO "Do we abort the other Raptors, Commander? Sir?"

"Eh? What?"

"Do we recall the others?"

"Eh? Uh, yes. Yes, dammit." Tigh spun on his heel and barked over to Comms. "Recall all Raptors immediately. I want them back and landed in the next three minutes. Navigation, do you have Javelin's last coordinates?"

"Aye, Sir."

"Plot us a jump five kilotras above that space."

"Sir?"

"You have trouble hearing me, mister? I want us inside that piece of space in the next five minutes."

"Uh...understood, Commander. Calculating vectors now."

Tigh nodded grimly and turned to Kelly. "Make sure our birds are landed and secure by the time we jump, Captain. See to it."

"Yes, Sir. Shall I put the ship on Condition One?"

"Damn right. I want Costanza and his wing ready to launch as soon as we have this...whoever this is in sight."

"Understood."

"And get Helo and Athena up here."

Kelly had a handset ready and was punching in the proper internal codes. "Already doing it, Commander."

Tigh nodded again and turned back to the DRADIS displays, only barely noticing the sudden appearance of the remaining Raptors as they returned to the Basestar. All his conscious awareness was taken up by that voice over the wireless just moments ago.

"This is Colonel Kara Thrace, call sign Starbuck..."

If this turned out to be some kind of sick joke, he promised himself he would personally strangle the life out of whoever dreamed it up...

"Raptors all landed, Sir," Kelly suddenly reported. "Alert Wing is on deck and waiting."

"Navigation?" Tigh barked without turning around.

"Jump coordinates in and ready, Sir."

"Execute jump." Reality lurched half a degrees one way, then the other as the Basestar leapt between physical spaces. Within seconds, DRADIS picked up their new targets, sitting in space and well away from any a danger of collision with them. The instant they were sighted, both contacts flipped about laterally and began what presumably was meant to be evasive action.

Tigh ordered, "Launch Alert Wing. Defensive fire only! I want those two corralled, preferably without a single scratch to them!"

"Acknowledged, Actual," Captain Brendan Costanza, call sign Hotdog, replied over wireless. "Shall we attempt to initiate wireless contact, Actual?"

"Attempt as soon as you have them corralled, Hotdog."

"Understood. Taking up blockade positions now." DRADIS displayed no details beyond the positions of the contacts and the Raider of the Alert Wing. Tigh needed none to see it all playing out clearly in his head: Costanza and his wing breaking out into two divisions of three, nimbly positioning themselves around their targets, which likely had no idea what to make of the vicious-looking spacecraft now surrounding them.

Helo and Athena entered the Bridge just as Hotdog opened the same channel as Javelin had been transmitting on and hailed the bogeys. "Attention unknown spacecraft. We are a reconnaissance force from..."

"Sir?" Helo asked, pulling Tigh's attention away from Costanza's transmission.

"We got a visual on our bogeys, which happen to look like Vipers," Tigh quickly explained. "They made a run at Javelin, but she managed to jump away. I've taken us into their envelope for a closer look-see."

"Whu...why?" Athena sputtered, staring at him in shock.

The next words heard over the wireless were all the answer she needed.

"Hotdog, is that you!"

Tigh watched with a grim satisfaction as the color drained from the faces of both his XO and CAG as they listened to Costanza and...the other party...exchange dull barbs. His eye not leaving either of them, he calmly picked up the handset from the planning table and raised it to his lips.

"I am addressing the...person...claiming to Captain Kara Thrace. You will identify yourself to my satisfaction or I will blow you out of the frakking sky for soiling the memory of an officer I knew...and respected!"

The familiar laugh the answered this demand was chilling…and erased all doubts for those few who recognized it.

TBC...

Glossary -

Centra: Colonial measurement of distance, equivalent to (roughly) 9.85 meters

DEW: "Distant Early Warning", usually performed by a Raptor scout craft holding a position forward of or behind the Fleet and carrying out passive scans of the surrounding space.

Kilotra: Colonial measurement of distance, equivalent to (roughly) 1.15 kilometers

Loomed: reference to Cylon reproductive technique of human-form models; new copies of human-form models being 'woven' together from base genetic materials.

Metra: Colonial measurement of distance, equivalent to (roughly) 1 meter.

ROE: "Rules of Engagement", which set the parameters for offensive or defensive actions a unit may undertake during a military mission.