Fic - "Going Forward" - BSG/STNG AU - Part 16
Yup part 16 of Going Forward, a BSG/STNG AU crossover. Its a sequel to Going Native (tagged trekfic on my journal). Going Forward is tagged goingforwardfic - I am clever, huh?
It was like wearing ugly pajamas. Ugly yellow and black pajamas, and it irritated her how comfortable the uniform was. A uniform was supposed to be faintly uncomfortable, to remind one of the discipline of the service. She wasn’t surprised, it went hand in hand with the softness of Starfleet. At least it wasn’t as horrid as some of the older Starfleet uniforms. Pictures of one Felix Gaeta in Starfleet Academy togs got laughs from even the most zealous Felix Apollo worshippers.
It’s too late to back out, she reminded herself. She had taken an oath, given her word, to serve as a brevet officer in Starfleet for the current crisis. She just wasn’t entirely certain she’d made the right call. Kara set down her small bag on the bed in her new quarters. The ensign who had shown her to the crew quarters on Surprise had apologized about the size of the room. She had almost laughed. Tiny and cramped, yes, with just enough room for the bed and a desk, but huge compared to the rack on the Galactica that she had lived in for years. The ensign had also apologized about the shared bathroom as well. Clearly the crew had only a vague idea of what her previous ship quarters were like. Sharing a small but well appointed bathroom with one other officer, no doubt a female officer, wasn’t really a hardship when you were used to group showers.
Of course, even the Galactica had gotten more luxurious. There were still group showers and group quarters but without civilians packed into every spare corner, there was a lot more room. There was still a mess hall, but there were replicators along with stored food. Sonic showers were popular. Even the rooks, the ones who joined the colonial fleet after they had settled on New Caprica, were old enough to remember life in the ships, and they thought living on the Galactica now was pretty cushy compared to their old bunks on the dilapidated fleet ships. But her small room with a shared bathroom was much nicer than anything on the Galactica except perhaps the Admiral and Executive officer’s quarters.
Both of which would still eventually be hers. Lee was never going to stay in the military in peace time, and Tigh was only assuming command of the base star to ease the fears of the civilian government. And Gaeta had made it clear at the swearing in ceremony that their terms in Starfleet were for the duration of hostilities. Thinking of Gaeta reminded her that it was time to meet with her commanding officer. She wasn’t really up on Starfleet etiquette but in the colonial fleet, a new senior officer was expected to report to the commander within an hour of taking quarters.
It was small, but Surprise definitely felt like a Starfleet vessel. In a matter of seconds, she was in the CIC, the “bridge” she reminded herself. Starfleet was full of traditions that only made sense if you researched their origins. Gaeta was a commander by rank but a captain by position so on Surprise he was called Cpt. Gaeta but on Aurora Station and in general he was called Cmdr. Gaeta. Captain was also an officer rank in Starfleet, about the equivalent of a major or colonel depending on whether they had a ship command or not and in general it was a great big mess. Her own rank was Lt. Cmdr, which meant she was fairly high ranked but her position in the chain of command was still unclear.
Gaeta stood as she entered. She struggled not to roll her eyes. She had gotten to take some courses on Earth and the odd way women were treated was irritating. She didn’t roll her eyes because it was possible he was extending some sort of Starfleet courtesy. Starfleet had a lot of irritating courtesies as well. “Cmdr. Thrace, reporting as ordered, sir.”
“Thank you, Cmdr. Thrace.” Gaeta didn’t smile, although his eyes managed to suggest his amusement. “I’m glad to have you aboard. I’d like to discuss your duties before I put you to work.” He gestured to a small door just off the bridge.
She nodded. She had to admit, it was a feature of Federation ships she liked, the ready room for conferences between officers. It was a concept she intended to replicate on the Galactica when the time came. The CIC was where Bill Adama conducted all but the most confidential fleet conferences and it wasn’t always a wise decision in her opinion. The ready room on Surprise was tiny but that was to be expected. She took a seat at the small table and after a moment so did Gaeta.
“Yellow is a horrible color for you,” he said.
“I didn’t get a choice,” she said after a moment, her interest suddenly high.
“Would you like a choice?” Gaeta asked. His tone was almost teasing.
“What are you talking about?” She had an inkling but Gaeta was always a hard read.
He leaned back in his chair. “Right now my chain of command is a mess. I don’t have an exec and the officers I normally would have promoted to replace Grossen are going to Aurora Station and the Bradbury. My next choice is Cmdr. Barclay and while Reg is a fine officer and a truly brilliant engineer, he’s a bad fit. You would be a good fit as my executive. You’re a brilliant tactical officer, and that’s what I need you for, primarily, but I also have to consider what happens to my crew if I get killed. I want you to be my executive officer.” He waited.
Tempting. She wasn’t there because she wanted a career in Starfleet but executive officer was higher on the food chain than tactical officer. And Gaeta was, after all was said and done, one clever bastard. One sneaky clever bastard. “You must have junior officers who are capable.”
“None that have combat experience. Most of my junior officers are fresh from scientific assignments.” He sighed. “You know my opinion. I can look at our history and see exactly why we don’t emphasis the military aspects of Starfleet… There’s always been an emphasis on exploration and scientific achievements. That encourages the best and the brightest to apply, and when a war finally comes, we end up with a lot of people who don’t really know what they’re doing.”
“I know that,” Kara said after a moment. “But I have met your junior officers. They’re pretty good. They also might resent someone from the local militia being promoted over them.” Which would make her job harder.
“They won’t resent it if you do your job.” Gaeta’s eyes glittered with amusement. “Of course, I will expect better than you just doing your job.”
“It’s remarks like that almost make me want to resign,” Kara said. She had made peace with Gaeta over their shared past. She had regrets, she had regrets over how a lot of things that had happened, not just the moments in time where she was making Felix Gaeta’s life a living hell. Gaeta, to give him credit where it was due, had never been a jerk about it in the aftermath, but sometimes she wondered. He was, as Tigh often put it, a sneaky son of a bitch. It was always wise when dealing with Gaeta to remember that underneath the pleasant smile and countenance was a man that made lying an art form for most of his adult life. “You didn’t really need a tactical officer.”
He smiled slightly. “I do. I’m not going to lie to you and say I don’t know how to stage a raid or fight a battle. I’m good at it, maybe even great. But you’re brilliant, Kara. The raid on the Cylon fuel depot… It was genius. It saved our lives.” He leaned back in his chair, seemingly amused. “I thought Bill Adama was going to replace me with you after that, but he put you back on Vipers. I understand why, but there’s a reason you’re in line for command after him. I can see you and your ideas all over the Galactica’s refit. That was all you, wasn’t it?”
“The Admiral agreed with my ideas, yes.” She was pleased at how well the test firing had gone. The Galactica was never going to be fast in comparison to a Starfleet vessel, but with the new weapons in place, the battlestar was a worthy asset.
“The ablative armor… you stole that from the Defiant’s design.” Gaeta said it in a way that told her he liked it. “Being in Galactica’s firing solution is like sticking your hand in a wasp’s nest. Add in the new Mark 8 Vipers… Starfleet has never pursued the idea of a carrier ship so they don’t know how to defend against it. But that goes to my point. You’re a brilliant tactician, better than I am, and I do need you to function as my tactical officer. I need you as my executive officer because I need someone with combat experience and I need someone who complements my skills, but also isn’t afraid to stand up to me. You fit the bill. Oh, and if you take the job, you get the XO’s quarters which are slightly bigger and have a private bathroom.”
“You don’t have to bribe me, Felix,” she said after a moment. “I’m pregnant, remember? The Admiral was pissed with me.” An exaggeration, Bill Adama had been both shocked and worried. Shocked because it certainly wasn’t a secret that she hadn’t wanted more children, although the more she thought about it, the more the idea grew on her. Adama had been worried because he really was top heavy with staff officers. She was still Viper qualified and Lee still maintained his flight status but a lot of the Viper pilots had retired or dropped down to Raptors. The Mark 8 Vipers were harder to fly, and it hadn’t escaped her that the older ones who had stayed were the ones that she suspected of having Palamas genes. “You want me to be your version of Colonel Tigh to your crew. You get to be the reasonable one while I’m the hard ass.”
“I would prefer it if you didn’t openly drink alcohol while in command of the bridge, but yes.” Gaeta grinned openly. “Too much alcohol is bad for the baby. And to a point, that is the dynamic I am looking for, but I am not exaggerating my need for your tactical brilliance. The Dominion, by all reports, is not going to frak around. Has it occurred to you that we may need to liberate planets?”
“Yes.” It had occurred to her that New Atlantis was off the beaten track but would eventually get the Dominion’s attention. Roslin was discreetly having all the remaining ships repaired and restocked. “Has it occurred to you that you will be giving the Old Man orders?” She knew the regulations as well as he did. The Galactica and her crew were local military. Bill Adama had to place himself under Gaeta’s command in order to justify Gaeta allowing the Galactica to be rearmed with Federation weapons. Gaeta was trusting the man with his future, because any misstep would backlash onto him. She knew Bill Adama well enough to know he took that sort of trust seriously, but she also knew that there was going to be a clash eventually. She considered. If something happened to Gaeta, she would be the one giving orders to Bill Adama, and in many ways he’d accept that more easily than he would from Gaeta.
She could do it. The question in her mind was whether Gaeta could do it. “I have a question. I need to know something about you, Felix. Before I agree to being your executive officer.”
He nodded. “I understand. What do you want to know?”
“You controlled the route, back on the Galactica, and I know now that you were threading a needle to get us here. One bad course and we would have ended up in Romulan space.“ No doubt imprisoned as spies simply because they were human. Romulans wouldn’t have even considered their tale of woe until long after they were in some death camp. “What if Roslin hadn’t fallen for your story?”
Gaeta looked at her, his expression intent. Finally he said, “You might not like the answer to that, Kara.”
“I’m sure I won’t, but I need to know how. What would have happened if you hadn’t gotten Roslin on your side?” It was important, Kara thought, to know just how far her new commanding officer would go.
He leaned forward. “I went to Roslin,” he said quietly, his eyes suddenly dark, “because I had hoped I could use her religious tendencies to get what I wanted. I never could have approached the Admiral. You know that. You know the kind of man he is. At best he would have assumed I had lost my mind. You weren’t there when he found out the truth. He didn’t believe it, and then it was just luck and Laura Roslin that stopped him from beating the hell out of me. He never would have believed me, and all of us would have died.” Gaeta stopped and then took a deep breath. “If it had just been me, I would have accepted it, but it was everyone, and I couldn’t accept the idea that everyone was going to die.”
“What was the plan,” she asked again.
“I would have poisoned his coffee. It would have looked like a heart attack. Cottle didn’t have the technology to spot poison and frankly, the Old Man is an old man.” Gaeta’s voice was ice cold. “Tigh would have assumed his role, and Tigh wouldn’t have noticed the route until we were in the main shipping lanes.” Again he stopped. “You’re worried that I’m going to let the Admiral call the shots. I’m not. I would have hated to have gone that far, but I would have. Once I made the decision to take the fleet to Federation space, I wasn’t going to let anything stop me. I don’t intend to let the Dominion destroy everything I love. If that means pissing off Bill Adama…. That’s not exactly a big deal, considering what I would have done to the man. And I want you as my executive because if something happens to me, I want to know that my replacement can and will stand up for themselves.” Some of his good humor returned to his voice. “I’ve never known you to have a problem with that, Kara. Have I answered your question?”
She thought about it. “Yes. I’ll take the job. The red uniforms better have a maternity version. Have I mentioned how awful the uniforms are?”
Gaeta relaxed. “Well, the maternity uniforms are even worse…”
It was like wearing ugly pajamas. Ugly yellow and black pajamas, and it irritated her how comfortable the uniform was. A uniform was supposed to be faintly uncomfortable, to remind one of the discipline of the service. She wasn’t surprised, it went hand in hand with the softness of Starfleet. At least it wasn’t as horrid as some of the older Starfleet uniforms. Pictures of one Felix Gaeta in Starfleet Academy togs got laughs from even the most zealous Felix Apollo worshippers.
It’s too late to back out, she reminded herself. She had taken an oath, given her word, to serve as a brevet officer in Starfleet for the current crisis. She just wasn’t entirely certain she’d made the right call. Kara set down her small bag on the bed in her new quarters. The ensign who had shown her to the crew quarters on Surprise had apologized about the size of the room. She had almost laughed. Tiny and cramped, yes, with just enough room for the bed and a desk, but huge compared to the rack on the Galactica that she had lived in for years. The ensign had also apologized about the shared bathroom as well. Clearly the crew had only a vague idea of what her previous ship quarters were like. Sharing a small but well appointed bathroom with one other officer, no doubt a female officer, wasn’t really a hardship when you were used to group showers.
Of course, even the Galactica had gotten more luxurious. There were still group showers and group quarters but without civilians packed into every spare corner, there was a lot more room. There was still a mess hall, but there were replicators along with stored food. Sonic showers were popular. Even the rooks, the ones who joined the colonial fleet after they had settled on New Caprica, were old enough to remember life in the ships, and they thought living on the Galactica now was pretty cushy compared to their old bunks on the dilapidated fleet ships. But her small room with a shared bathroom was much nicer than anything on the Galactica except perhaps the Admiral and Executive officer’s quarters.
Both of which would still eventually be hers. Lee was never going to stay in the military in peace time, and Tigh was only assuming command of the base star to ease the fears of the civilian government. And Gaeta had made it clear at the swearing in ceremony that their terms in Starfleet were for the duration of hostilities. Thinking of Gaeta reminded her that it was time to meet with her commanding officer. She wasn’t really up on Starfleet etiquette but in the colonial fleet, a new senior officer was expected to report to the commander within an hour of taking quarters.
It was small, but Surprise definitely felt like a Starfleet vessel. In a matter of seconds, she was in the CIC, the “bridge” she reminded herself. Starfleet was full of traditions that only made sense if you researched their origins. Gaeta was a commander by rank but a captain by position so on Surprise he was called Cpt. Gaeta but on Aurora Station and in general he was called Cmdr. Gaeta. Captain was also an officer rank in Starfleet, about the equivalent of a major or colonel depending on whether they had a ship command or not and in general it was a great big mess. Her own rank was Lt. Cmdr, which meant she was fairly high ranked but her position in the chain of command was still unclear.
Gaeta stood as she entered. She struggled not to roll her eyes. She had gotten to take some courses on Earth and the odd way women were treated was irritating. She didn’t roll her eyes because it was possible he was extending some sort of Starfleet courtesy. Starfleet had a lot of irritating courtesies as well. “Cmdr. Thrace, reporting as ordered, sir.”
“Thank you, Cmdr. Thrace.” Gaeta didn’t smile, although his eyes managed to suggest his amusement. “I’m glad to have you aboard. I’d like to discuss your duties before I put you to work.” He gestured to a small door just off the bridge.
She nodded. She had to admit, it was a feature of Federation ships she liked, the ready room for conferences between officers. It was a concept she intended to replicate on the Galactica when the time came. The CIC was where Bill Adama conducted all but the most confidential fleet conferences and it wasn’t always a wise decision in her opinion. The ready room on Surprise was tiny but that was to be expected. She took a seat at the small table and after a moment so did Gaeta.
“Yellow is a horrible color for you,” he said.
“I didn’t get a choice,” she said after a moment, her interest suddenly high.
“Would you like a choice?” Gaeta asked. His tone was almost teasing.
“What are you talking about?” She had an inkling but Gaeta was always a hard read.
He leaned back in his chair. “Right now my chain of command is a mess. I don’t have an exec and the officers I normally would have promoted to replace Grossen are going to Aurora Station and the Bradbury. My next choice is Cmdr. Barclay and while Reg is a fine officer and a truly brilliant engineer, he’s a bad fit. You would be a good fit as my executive. You’re a brilliant tactical officer, and that’s what I need you for, primarily, but I also have to consider what happens to my crew if I get killed. I want you to be my executive officer.” He waited.
Tempting. She wasn’t there because she wanted a career in Starfleet but executive officer was higher on the food chain than tactical officer. And Gaeta was, after all was said and done, one clever bastard. One sneaky clever bastard. “You must have junior officers who are capable.”
“None that have combat experience. Most of my junior officers are fresh from scientific assignments.” He sighed. “You know my opinion. I can look at our history and see exactly why we don’t emphasis the military aspects of Starfleet… There’s always been an emphasis on exploration and scientific achievements. That encourages the best and the brightest to apply, and when a war finally comes, we end up with a lot of people who don’t really know what they’re doing.”
“I know that,” Kara said after a moment. “But I have met your junior officers. They’re pretty good. They also might resent someone from the local militia being promoted over them.” Which would make her job harder.
“They won’t resent it if you do your job.” Gaeta’s eyes glittered with amusement. “Of course, I will expect better than you just doing your job.”
“It’s remarks like that almost make me want to resign,” Kara said. She had made peace with Gaeta over their shared past. She had regrets, she had regrets over how a lot of things that had happened, not just the moments in time where she was making Felix Gaeta’s life a living hell. Gaeta, to give him credit where it was due, had never been a jerk about it in the aftermath, but sometimes she wondered. He was, as Tigh often put it, a sneaky son of a bitch. It was always wise when dealing with Gaeta to remember that underneath the pleasant smile and countenance was a man that made lying an art form for most of his adult life. “You didn’t really need a tactical officer.”
He smiled slightly. “I do. I’m not going to lie to you and say I don’t know how to stage a raid or fight a battle. I’m good at it, maybe even great. But you’re brilliant, Kara. The raid on the Cylon fuel depot… It was genius. It saved our lives.” He leaned back in his chair, seemingly amused. “I thought Bill Adama was going to replace me with you after that, but he put you back on Vipers. I understand why, but there’s a reason you’re in line for command after him. I can see you and your ideas all over the Galactica’s refit. That was all you, wasn’t it?”
“The Admiral agreed with my ideas, yes.” She was pleased at how well the test firing had gone. The Galactica was never going to be fast in comparison to a Starfleet vessel, but with the new weapons in place, the battlestar was a worthy asset.
“The ablative armor… you stole that from the Defiant’s design.” Gaeta said it in a way that told her he liked it. “Being in Galactica’s firing solution is like sticking your hand in a wasp’s nest. Add in the new Mark 8 Vipers… Starfleet has never pursued the idea of a carrier ship so they don’t know how to defend against it. But that goes to my point. You’re a brilliant tactician, better than I am, and I do need you to function as my tactical officer. I need you as my executive officer because I need someone with combat experience and I need someone who complements my skills, but also isn’t afraid to stand up to me. You fit the bill. Oh, and if you take the job, you get the XO’s quarters which are slightly bigger and have a private bathroom.”
“You don’t have to bribe me, Felix,” she said after a moment. “I’m pregnant, remember? The Admiral was pissed with me.” An exaggeration, Bill Adama had been both shocked and worried. Shocked because it certainly wasn’t a secret that she hadn’t wanted more children, although the more she thought about it, the more the idea grew on her. Adama had been worried because he really was top heavy with staff officers. She was still Viper qualified and Lee still maintained his flight status but a lot of the Viper pilots had retired or dropped down to Raptors. The Mark 8 Vipers were harder to fly, and it hadn’t escaped her that the older ones who had stayed were the ones that she suspected of having Palamas genes. “You want me to be your version of Colonel Tigh to your crew. You get to be the reasonable one while I’m the hard ass.”
“I would prefer it if you didn’t openly drink alcohol while in command of the bridge, but yes.” Gaeta grinned openly. “Too much alcohol is bad for the baby. And to a point, that is the dynamic I am looking for, but I am not exaggerating my need for your tactical brilliance. The Dominion, by all reports, is not going to frak around. Has it occurred to you that we may need to liberate planets?”
“Yes.” It had occurred to her that New Atlantis was off the beaten track but would eventually get the Dominion’s attention. Roslin was discreetly having all the remaining ships repaired and restocked. “Has it occurred to you that you will be giving the Old Man orders?” She knew the regulations as well as he did. The Galactica and her crew were local military. Bill Adama had to place himself under Gaeta’s command in order to justify Gaeta allowing the Galactica to be rearmed with Federation weapons. Gaeta was trusting the man with his future, because any misstep would backlash onto him. She knew Bill Adama well enough to know he took that sort of trust seriously, but she also knew that there was going to be a clash eventually. She considered. If something happened to Gaeta, she would be the one giving orders to Bill Adama, and in many ways he’d accept that more easily than he would from Gaeta.
She could do it. The question in her mind was whether Gaeta could do it. “I have a question. I need to know something about you, Felix. Before I agree to being your executive officer.”
He nodded. “I understand. What do you want to know?”
“You controlled the route, back on the Galactica, and I know now that you were threading a needle to get us here. One bad course and we would have ended up in Romulan space.“ No doubt imprisoned as spies simply because they were human. Romulans wouldn’t have even considered their tale of woe until long after they were in some death camp. “What if Roslin hadn’t fallen for your story?”
Gaeta looked at her, his expression intent. Finally he said, “You might not like the answer to that, Kara.”
“I’m sure I won’t, but I need to know how. What would have happened if you hadn’t gotten Roslin on your side?” It was important, Kara thought, to know just how far her new commanding officer would go.
He leaned forward. “I went to Roslin,” he said quietly, his eyes suddenly dark, “because I had hoped I could use her religious tendencies to get what I wanted. I never could have approached the Admiral. You know that. You know the kind of man he is. At best he would have assumed I had lost my mind. You weren’t there when he found out the truth. He didn’t believe it, and then it was just luck and Laura Roslin that stopped him from beating the hell out of me. He never would have believed me, and all of us would have died.” Gaeta stopped and then took a deep breath. “If it had just been me, I would have accepted it, but it was everyone, and I couldn’t accept the idea that everyone was going to die.”
“What was the plan,” she asked again.
“I would have poisoned his coffee. It would have looked like a heart attack. Cottle didn’t have the technology to spot poison and frankly, the Old Man is an old man.” Gaeta’s voice was ice cold. “Tigh would have assumed his role, and Tigh wouldn’t have noticed the route until we were in the main shipping lanes.” Again he stopped. “You’re worried that I’m going to let the Admiral call the shots. I’m not. I would have hated to have gone that far, but I would have. Once I made the decision to take the fleet to Federation space, I wasn’t going to let anything stop me. I don’t intend to let the Dominion destroy everything I love. If that means pissing off Bill Adama…. That’s not exactly a big deal, considering what I would have done to the man. And I want you as my executive because if something happens to me, I want to know that my replacement can and will stand up for themselves.” Some of his good humor returned to his voice. “I’ve never known you to have a problem with that, Kara. Have I answered your question?”
She thought about it. “Yes. I’ll take the job. The red uniforms better have a maternity version. Have I mentioned how awful the uniforms are?”
Gaeta relaxed. “Well, the maternity uniforms are even worse…”