V Visitors/Galactica Crossover Novel

"V" and "Battlestar Galactica" with appearances from "A-Team," "Airwolf," "Knight Rider," and others. The Galactica finally discovers Earth, but the Visitors have gotten there first. Apollo is shot down and becomes Diana's converted pet. Starbuck is captured by Phillip's faction, and must become an ambassador of peace, if he can trust the invaders. The Resistance fights to free their potential new allies, but then the new Visitor Leader arrives. Prepare for the battle royale... 87 pages.

The Visitors are not our friends.

When the alien Visitors came to Earth, they seemed entirely human in form and motive. From their great Mother Ships, hovering over Earth's major cities, they offered friendship and technology in exchange for the raw materials they needed for their continuing war against an implacable interstellar enemy. They were welcomed gladly, until subtle changes appeared. More and more, it seemed the aliens were masters, and humans nothing but obedient slaves. Resistance groups sprang up, composed of humans who distrusted the Visitors and were concerned for the safety of their planet.

Dr. Juliet Parrish, a scientist, and Michael Donovan, a journalist, formed the core of the Los Angeles Resistance. They learned the Visitors were actually a reptilian species that had come to bleed Earth of its natural resources and population humans were, for them, just another meat animal. With this knowledge, others joined the Resistance, including Ham Tyler and Chris Farber, mercenaries by trade, whose experience was invaluable.

For teenaged Robin Maxwell, the Resistance meant sanity as well as help. Pregnant by one of the aliens, she delivered twins a human-looking girl named Elizabeth, and a reptilian boy who soon died. The surviving hybrid grew quickly, shedding her skin like a lizard until she had the appearance of an eight-year-old. In a second metamorphosis, she attained the physical maturity of an eighteen-year-old woman at an actual age of less than two years. She soon demonstrated awesome powers, including telekinesis and clairvoyance. However, it took the love of Kyle Bates, a human, to give her the emotional maturity to handle her powers and physical age.

Diana, a visitor scientist, took control of the invading fleet after assassinating her superiors. Uneasy Visitors formed a Fifth Column against her, working with the Resistance. Willie, a simple trooper, joined when he could no longer view the intelligent humans "like rats." Martin, an officer, befriended Mike Donovan and tried to save his son Sean, but the boy was irrevocably committed to his chosen alien mentor.

The L.A. Resistance wasn't idle. Donovan and Parrish sent a message into space, to the enemies of the Visitors, asking their help. Then, a bacterium toxic to the Visitors was discovered, and the surviving aliens were forced to flee the planet. Diana attempted to destroy Earth completely by exploding her Mother Ship, but Elizabeth, the Starchild, prevented it, and the vicious alien was captured. The Fifth Columnists were accepted in human society; they would have to take an antidote to the "Red Dust" every twelve hours for the rest of their lives, but they could survive on Earth.

It was soon discovered that the "Red Dust" required a cold, dormant period to reproduce. The bacteria remained active in Earth's colder regions, but it soon died in areas that never froze, leaving large parts of the planet open to a second invasion. Diana escaped, killed Martin, and returned to her waiting partisans to lead that invasion.

Her new Security Commander was Lydia. The power struggles and jealousies of the two females brought Charles, a nobleman of their planet, to Earth to take command. While having an affair with Lydia, he forced Diana to marry him and was poisoned on their wedding day. Each woman accused the other.

Inspector General Philip arrived to judge the case. Invoking ancient law, he forced Diana and Lydia to work together to preserve themselves, then remained to assume control of the fleet. Discovering it was actually Diana who had murdered his twin brother Martin, Philip actively joined the Fifth Column.

While Lydia attempted to win Philip's favor, Diana secretly sent troops into Los Angeles under the command of James, her personal favorite and paramour. Small groups of aliens, collaborators, and Resistance fighters skirmished almost constantly, and civilians fled whenever they had the opportunity.

* * * * *

Julie Parrish and Mike Donovan studied the stars, each wondering when, if ever, the enemies of the Visitors would pick up their signal, and if they would respond to the human distress call. The guerrilla war had already cost so many lives in the attempt to save their planet from the invaders. If there was no help from the stars, they might keep fighting for years, until there was nothing left on Earth worth possessing. The lizards might suck their planet dry as a stolen egg.

"They'll come," the blonde woman said, cradling her laser rifle, a weapon stolen from their vicious foe. "They have to come. If they hate the Visitors as much as it seems, to be fighting a war of extermination, they've got to come."

"They will. But until they do, we've got to keep fighting. It's our Earth! And we'll find a way to hold it," Donovan assured her. He put an arm around her waist. In the cool mountain air, she was shivering.

"How long do you think it'll be?" she persisted.

"I don't know. Could be years. Could be tomorrow. But we'll hang in there. We've got to."

"I wonder what they're like, the enemies of the Visitors...." Julie's eyes wandered across the lights in the sky. From one of them might come Earth's salvation, an ally in their desperate struggle. But when?

She clutched his hand. They made a heroic picture, the guerrilla warriors who fought incredible odds with inferior technology. The alien weapons they carried were at odds with the dark jeans and turtleneck sweaters of native manufacture. Silhouetted against the star-speckled ebony of the night, their faces turned upward as they clung together, they were nonetheless figures of hope, perhaps the only hope left for their shattered world.

* * * * *

There are those who believe that life here began out there, far across the universe, with tribes of humans who may have been the forefathers of the Egyptians, or the Toltecs, or the Mayans; that they may have been the architects of the great pyramids, or the lost civilizations of Lemuria, or Atlantis. Some believe that there may yet be brothers of man who, even now, fight to survive, somewhere beyond the heavens.

* * * * *

The Twelve Colonies of Man had fought a devastating war against the Cylons for a thousand yahrens. The metallic Cylons had been created by an organic reptilian race millennia before, but those original Cylons were believed extinct, and their robot successors were determined to wipe out the life species known as "Man." A false armistice treaty was offered the humans; eager for peace, they accepted and began to celebrate. At the height of the celebration, the Cylons attacked the fleet and the Twelve Worlds, completely shattering Colonial military and civilian power. Count Baltar, the human traitor who arranged the armistice, rejoiced in the defeat of his worlds.

One battlestar survived the Destruction the Galactica, under Commander Adama, the sole surviving member of the Quorum of Twelve, the governing body of the Colonies. He gathered all the survivors he could, in any sort of ship that could still fly. He intended to lead them to Earth, a thirteenth colony, far away in time and space. Two hundred twenty vessels, crowded with humans of all ages, creeds, colors, and colonies, followed.

They fled to Carillon in search of food, fuel, and water. They also encountered a Cylon task force, but defeated it and escaped, destroying the planet in the process.

The next goal was Kobol, ancient mythical homeworld of Humanity. There Adama found clues that would lead to Earth, but the trip would be long and uncertain. They would discover small human settlements, friendly and otherwise; they would make contact with but lose another battlestar, the Pegasus, under Commander Cain, the "Living Legend"; and they would meet strange beings in a "Ship of Lights," who would both aid them against a diabolical enemy, and ask their help in saving another world.

Through it all, they persevered Commander Adama, (usually) acknowledged leader of the Fleet; Colonel Tigh, his Executive Officer and ever-loyal right hand; Captain Apollo, Adama's son and Flight Commander of Blue Squadron; Lieutenant Starbuck, brash and womanizing, who always counted on his luck; Lieutenant Boomer, a dependable, stabilizing influence on his friends; Lieutenant Sheba, Cain's daughter, left behind and always trying to live up to her father's reputation for "the day he returns"; Bojay, also from the Pegasus, close as a brother; Cassiopeia, socialator turned med tech; Athena, Adama's daughter, a bridge officer and Tigh's aide; Omega, the steadiest of Adama's bridge crew; Boxey, the rambunctious son of Apollo and Serina, and his mechanical pet Muffey; Doctor Wilker, whose electronic wizardry proved invaluable; and the rest of the warriors and civilians Giles, Jolly, Greenbean, Doctor Salik, Rigel, Councilman Uri, Siress Tinia, the scoundrel Chameleon....

But all the way, it seemed the Cylons were just behind them, waiting for a chance to strike the final blow. Baltar, the traitor, still served the Cylons. After several attempts to mislead Adama into a second trap, and a period of imprisonment in the Fleet's prison barge, but now freed, he contented himself with trailing the Galactica, and waiting....

* * * * *

Fleeing from the Cylon tyranny, the last battlestar, Galactica, leads a rag-tag fugitive fleet on a lonely quest for a shining planet known as Earth.

* * * * *

"Commander!" The excited brunette looked up; there was a light in her wide blue-green eyes. "Father!"

The blue-clad command officers were surprised at her lack of decorum.

"What is it, Lieutenant?" Colonel Tigh snapped.

"Athena?" Her father sounded more puzzled.

"A signal, sir, on a low band! Sir, it's from Earth!" Her voice was a shrill squeak of elation.

"What?" Pandemonium broke out on the huge bridge of the battlestar, as personnel rushed over and excited voices carried her words along.

Then shock and dismay colored her features. "Father! They're under attack ... by a lizard species...."

Adama spoke in the despairing silence that followed. "What information do they give?"

She stared vacantly at her board. "What...? Oh..... They're under attack. It sounds like they're trying to summon an enemy of the invaders, someone who might be a friend...." She sighed shakily. "They give their coordinates...."

The commander's face had been carefully composed; now his eyes widened in horror. "They give their coordinates over an open channel? Lords of Kobol...."

"What is it, sir?" Tigh questioned urgently.

"The Cylons! They must be receiving this as well. They know, now, where we're going, and how to get there! Omega, plot a course for that location. Get us there as rapidly as possible."

The flight officer ran back to his post.

"Tigh," Adama whispered, "could we have come so far, just to know the Cylons may already be on the way?"

"At least we can warm them...."

"How long will the trip take?" the old veteran snapped at his young officer.

"Approximately eight sectars, sir," Omega replied intently.

Adama nodded and turned away. "A long time," he breathed. "Perhaps all the time Earth has. The Lords grant we have a chance to help them." To himself, he wondered. They already face an enemy from the stars, and seek allies against the invaders. We looked to them for hope in our own struggle. Do we unite merely to witness the end of our race?

* * * * *

"Command-Centurion. We-are-receiving-a-signal. Its-origin-is-a-planet-in-Beta-sector. It-is-from-the-human-vermin."

The gold-overlaid Cylon swivelled to face its underling. Eerie light flashed off its shell from the bridge illuminators. "What-information-is-available?" it intoned without emotion.

"The-inhabitants-refer-to-their-planet-as-Earth. The-Galactica-seeks-that-world. It-is-under-attack-by-the-Forebears."

"Inform-Commander-Baltar."

"By-your-command."

* * * * *

At Philip's urging, the Leader himself came to Earth. The alien took Elizabeth Maxwell, the Starchild, to be his consort, and make peace between their disparate species. Elizabeth accepted her heritage, and the union. Unknown to the rest, the treacherous Diana, still aspiring to military glory and political power, had planted a bomb on the Leader's shuttle.

And that's the state of the war tonight....


Galactica Stuff: A Colonial's Guide To The Galaxy

The people, places, and things in the Galactica universe; synopses of the episodes, comics, books; includes and illustration section with drawings of uniforms, equipment, ships, and other miscellaneous questions about the universe. 118 pages.


The Race For Earth by Sharon Monroe and Gordon Smuder

After ten years in space and a change in command, the Galactica has found the way to Earth, in an ancient derelict ship. But Baltar has caught up with the fleet, and takes a hostage Apollo may not be able to resist. While young warriors prepare for baptism of fire, veterans wearily regroup, returning to a battle they'd hoped they left behind.

For a millennium, the Twelve Colonies of Kobol waged war with the inhuman race called Cylons. The robot Cylons launched a genocidal attack which shattered Colonial power and all but obliterated their worlds. A few desperate refugees banded together under the protection of the last battlestar, Galactica, and her commander, Adama. They had a goal: to find their brethren, the lost Thirteenth Tribe, on the legendary planet Earth.

* * * * *

Seven Yahrens Ago:

They waited patiently, afraid, as the centons ticked away. If the door opened, it could mean the end. The longer the door remained close, the less likely the word would be good.

The inevitable came to pass.

The seal to Commander Adama's private ward opened. The sounds of a woman sobbing could be heard clearly. A paunchy, balding man stepped slowly into view, his face as pale as the medical tunic he wore. He slowly lifted his eyes to face the tense visitors to his life center. They read the verdict in that look. Choked, stifled cries tore from constricted throats.

"I'm sorry," he said bleakly. "Adama's heart finally gave out. After the wounds he sustained in that battle, the long recovery ... it left him weaker, more susceptible.... He couldn't stand ... his body couldn't take it any more. He's gone...."

His glance avoided any of them in particular, as he tried to focus on the opposite wall. But he couldn't avoid the emotions radiating from them all. Colonel Tigh, looking stark. Siress and Councilor Tinia, eyes tightly closed, schooling her face as she had to do in Council meetings. Captain Apollo, seemingly unaware of anyone around him. Ten-yahren-old Boxey, fighting manfully against tears. Lieutenant Starbuck, unsure if he really belonged here. Lieutenant Athena, trying to find comfort in her husband's arms. Dr. Kaleb, trying to find something soothing to whisper to her.

"May we see him?" The husky voice was Apollo's.

Salik nodded and stepped aside. The warrior slipped past him, followed quietly by the boy, the bridge officer, and the technician, the dead man's family.

The doctor turned to Tigh. "Well, Commander, what now?"

The officer started in shock, glanced at Tinia.

She nodded once. "As your friend and Adama's, I can think of no one better qualified to step into his boots. As a member of the Council of Twelve, I can guarantee you will be confirmed as commander of the Galactica. What are your orders, Commander Tigh?"

He shut his eyes tightly to buy a moment's time, to think. Then he opened them again, and drew a heavy breath. There was no time to grieve, to hide away and let his feelings have their way. He now had other responsibilities, and those duties would give him no rest, no time, any more than they had given Adama. He had to be the commander now....

* * * * *

Green, green, it was all green. The solitary man stared vacantly into the light of the small generator, ignoring the passage of day into night through the lingering dusk. The generator was the only thing on the whole planet that wasn't a dreary, tiring green. After three yahrens, he had almost ceased to notice any of it.

The man showed the yahrens he had been there. His exposed skin was leathery with tan from all the days spent outdoors; his once-handsome face was lined with wrinkles from early old age and from squinting at the sky, waiting for rescue. Hard mouth and sunken eyes betrayed something dark and determined.

Of clothing, he wore little. His pants were faded and torn, with heavy green stains at the knees and ankles from the vegetation. He wore no shirt; the warm climate made it unnecessary. His boots had long ago given out; simple sandals covered his feet, woven of tough reeds with vine straps to hold them in place over the calloused soles. He often told himself, in his frequent daily litanies, that "some day" when he got off this green rock he would need something decent to wear the last shred of the vanity that had been so much a part of his character.

The shelter behind him had once been a clean, dull white, formed of plastene. It had faded with time, and was almost indistinguishable from its surroundings. The jungle had found rootholds in its aging structure; vines now twined over most of its sides and roof.

The small collection of tools and crates secreted in the shelter were just as aged. Some, in fact, had broken long before, but the exile refused to throw them away. "Some day" he might fix them, or need them even in their shattered state.

The man hunched himself together against the falling night. Another day almost gone. Another day alone, in exile. Another day without hope. He silently cursed the one who'd left him here, not for the first time. That, too, was part of his daily litany what he would "some day" inflict upon his enemy.

If he escaped. The generator continued to gleam steadily. That meant the short-range transmitter should still be working. As long as it worked, he had a chance. If it ever stopped....

He slowly began to rock back and forth, murmuring softly.

There were sounds in the dimness, clanking metallic sounds that didn't belong anywhere on this planet, sounds that startled and silenced the sounds that did belong. The man paid them no attention.

The sounds drew nearer. On the far side of his small camp, silvery ghosts took form, double moonlight shimmering coldly off their moving shapes. The slowly shifting red lights on what passed for their faces bore an eerie resemblance to something undead from an evil night tale. They halted there, obviously studying the single human.

One then advanced. "Human-you-are-our-prisoner. Surrender-or-be-terminated."

The monotone finally caught his attention. He slowly turned his face and let his eyes examine the shape. Life seemed to return to him slowly as he sat upright, then rose to his feet.

"You ... are Cylons?" he said in a voice vaguely cracked from disuse.

"Surrender-or-die-human."

He drew a deep breath. "I am not a human, Centurion. I am Count Baltar, a Cylon commander. I have been marooned here for too long. Take me to your ship. I have a mission to complete."

The Cylons paused, their red eyes still moving, as each accessed old data banks. Then the leader spoke. "Commander Baltar."

"Yes!" he shouted back.

"We-know-you. We-will-take-you-to-our-ship."

"Excellent." Baltar glanced around at what had been his home for three yahrens. "But first, destroy this place."

"By-your-command."

As Baltar had walked away from the Colonies at their Destruction, so he walked away now. The Cylon guard unleashed a fury of laser bolts at the primitive shelter before falling into step behind him.

* * * * *

Standing at the door, Commander Tigh glanced around his new quarters, at the still-empty shelves, the viewport to space, the image of the battlestar on the wall, the too-clean desk and drawers. The room had been cleaned out so quickly all of Commander Adama's things were already gone, put in storage or given to Apollo and Athena or others who would treasure the little mementoes that were all that was left. Amazing. The man had lived most of his adult life on this ship, many yahrens of it in these very chambers, and there was so little to show for it....

The ceremony for Adama was over; his body had been consigned to the cradle of space, with the tears of the fleet. He had brought them so far, following the dream.

"And now it's my mission," Tigh said softly in the silence. "It's my duty to complete the journey, to lead our survivors to Earth."

He moved from the door to stand by the desk. He touched its cold, smooth surface. Nothing. No sensation.

"I'm not ready for this. I never wanted command, never wanted you to go. Adama, how can I do it? How can I take your place? I'm not ready...."

He noticed one thing remaining on the shelves, tucked to one side and apparently forgotten, something he hadn't seen before. It was a metallic shape of a bird apparently caught in flight. A symbol of the Galactica, he knew, something Adama had found somewhere and brought with him to represent their ship, long before the Destruction.

And someone had left it here for him.

He reached up, pulled it from the shelf. It was warm in his hands, and felt almost alive, as if it could take wing from his clutch at any micron, if it chose.

If it chose. But it wouldn't. He felt a calm certainty pervade him at that moment. The Galactica would not take flight from him. She was his now. And he would be a fitting and proper guardian for her, as Adama had been. The ship knew, even if the man did not, who could be her master.

It choked in his throat for a moment. Adama had known. And he was certain his friend had sent this signal to him, because he was certain it hadn't been there before. He wouldn't let them down, his old friend, his ship, his people he would do whatever he had to do, become whatever he had to become.

He settled the bird statuette in the middle of the desk, then took his seat behind it in the very chair where Adama had so often worked. A sudden ray of starlight from the port found the bird and reflected across the desk. More confidently, Tigh reached for the dictater of the commander's log, already beginning to feel at home. A quick check showed where Adama had left off. Staring at the image of the Galactica, he began to dictate.

"This is Commander Tigh of the battlestar Galactica, making my first entry after assuming command.

"The last secton has been busy and sad for us, with the death of Commander Adama and his memorial service. There has been much grieving, and he will be deeply missed by all who knew him and ... loved him.

"Now, however, we move on...."

* * * * *

Staring around the command core of the basestar, Commander Baltar felt a moment's disappointment. The Cylon vessel had been old and worn even before its last mission, and had in fact been dispatched to examine this quadrant because it was considered expendable, and was not expected to return. Over the yahrens of its mission, the ship had deteriorated even more.

But it was a basestar. And it had fighters. It would obey his commands.

"Welcome-aboard-Commander-Baltar. We-will-return-to-Cylon-for-additional-orders-before-continuing-pursuit," announced the command Centurion from its pedestal.

Baltar whirled from his study of the chamber. "No!"

The command machine droned, "We-have-been-out-of-contact-with-the-Imperious-Leader-for-yahrens."

So much the better, Baltar thought, his mental acumen gradually returning and reminding him of several things. His position had been precarious in his last days of command failure to capture or destroy the Galactica had told against him in the Imperious Leader's oculars. And anything could have happened in his sectars of captivity in the fleet, before Adama released him on that planet. And then there were the yahrens of exile, alone, out of touch....

No, it would be better if he returned to Cylon victorious, with Adama's head and the shattered debris of the Galactica as trophies.

"What do your data banks tell you where I am concerned?" he asked cunningly.

The Cylon seemed to think for a centon. "Commander-Baltar-is-in-charge-of-the-task-force-seeking-the-humans," it then announced. "His-orders-are-to-be-accepted-in-that-capacity."

"Yes. But that task force proved inadequate, incapable of its task. I am taking command of this ship for that function. I am now your commander; you will obey me and follow my orders. We will begin pursuit of the humans at once, without any such delays."

Wonder of wonders, the Cylon accepted.

"By-your-command." The gold Centurion clunked down from the command pedestal to stand beside it, leaving command gloriously open to him. He ascended and lovingly settled himself in what was so reminiscent of a throne.

"Shall-we-inform-Imperious-Leader-of-your-rescue?"

"Negative!" he snapped. "We are out of range of Cylon, and we have no time to waste. Set course along epsilon vector twenty-two, circular reckoning, zero-zero-zero-point-nine."

"By-your-command."

It was that easy. He exulted in feeling command again and this time there was no one from Cylon to tell him otherwise, or to inflict another IL "aide" upon him.

"There is justice after all," he crooned softly. "Justice, and vengeance. Are you waiting, Adama? Do you know I'm free? Do you know I'm coming for you again? And I remember where you were going, I heard, in that cell you confined me to...."

And he began to laugh, louder and louder, until the chamber rang with the echoes of madness.


Star Wars 4 Timothy Zahn novels & more

These are the first four Timothy Zahn Star Wars novels: Heir to the Empire, Dark Force Rising, The Last Command (which compose the first trilogy), and Specter of the Past. I will also throw in the novel Shadows of The Empire by Steve Perry and A Guide To The Star Wars Universe (basically a dictionary of Star Wars terms). The Last Command and Shadows of the Empire are hardcover books and the rest are paperbacks. Specter of the Past, Shadows of The Empire, and A Guide To The Star Wars Universe are in excellent condition. The other books are only in average shape. These would cost $70 total if you bought them in a book store.

$25 $30 Buy it now.


Legends From the Rising Star - Stories, poetry - 208 pages


We Know Who We Are - Charles Oines - 37 pages - small print


The Homecoming - By Fran Severn - 78 pages


Galactica - Anne Lockhart in other roles!

The following movies have Anne Lockhart (Sheba from Galactica) but not in a starring role: Joyride (nude scene), Young Warriors (nude scene), A Savage Hunger, and Hambone and Hilly (a movie about a dog; O.J. Simpson has a role - great movie!).

I also have the following TV episodes on tape: Laurette Spang (Cassiopea) guest stars in Charlie's Angels. Anne Lockhart guest stars in CHiPs, Kung Fu: The Legend Continues, and Diagnosis Murder (Anne plays the murderer!)

Galactica - Dirk Benedict in other roles!

The following movies have Dirk Benedict (Starbuck): Sssssss (Dirk is turned into a snake man!), Body Slam, Blue Tornado (Dirk plays a fighter pilot who loses a fellow pilot in some white lights - perhaps inspired by War of the Gods?), and W (Yes, the letter "W"). You will also get the following TV episodes which Dirk guest stars in: Charlie's Angels and Walker: Texas Ranger. He plays the villain in both!