President's Tomb
"Get DOWN sir." A voice reached out to him, forcing him to obey even as the sickening wetness of liquified flesh splashed across him. Somehow, his bodyguard had managed to bear the brunt of the secondary explosion, sparing his charge a grisly death. Other guards scurried about, scanning the skies for threats. Always for me. I'm not sure I can stand any more death today. Not for me.
"We need to get out of here, sir." One suited man began.
"There's no escaping this..." President Adar replied as he stared across the ruins of what had, only moments ago, been the presidential palace. What he saw beyond the wreckage sickened him. Caprica city was aflame, the twisted girders of ruined skyscrapers mangled beyond recognition, an immense mushroom cloud forming overhead. The palace had been designed to withstand terrorist attacks, but certainly nothing of this magnitude. He supposed he should be thankful that the Cylons had decided to target downtown instead of the capital buildings in the western quarter, not that it mattered much with something as indiscriminate as a nuclear missile. Close, it would seem, only applied with shady pyramid courts and thermonuclear bombs.
"Sir, the tunnel is still intact." Most of his security detail was dead, and the few who survived didn't look much better, yet still they clung to the hope that all of this was survivable. Adar knew the attack for what it was, for he had seen it all too often in the annals of history. This was genocide, the systemic destruction of all life in the Colonies.
Shaking his head, wiping blood and sweat from his face he trudged into the emergency escape tunnel built underneath the city. The tunnel hadn't been used since the first war, but all the equipment remained intact, carefully maintained by presidential security. The tramcar was an old model, and for a moment the colonial leader wondered if it would even start, but the engine coughed to life faithfully, belching a cloud of dust and gas. Soon he and his surviving security detail were whisking away at high speed towards the emergency combat center (ECC). So I get front row seats to the end of the world. Is that what I was elected to do? Sit and watch as the universe is torn asunder?
Like the escape tunnel, ECC had been built in an era of extreme paranoia, where every redundancy had redundancies of its own, where nothing was automated and only the most basic computer systems were tolerated. Even then, the constructs had been watched with lingering suspicion in those days; there had even been a movement to dispose of hand held calculators and return to slide rules and tablets. Perhaps those men had been smarter than any of his generation. It would seem, if there was to be any historical record at all, Adar would go down in it as the fool who let the Cylons decimate his entire civilization.
In a matter of minutes the survivors found themselves in the dusty, natural caves underneath the hills to the north of Caprica City. Here surviving members of the cabinet, military chiefs and their assistants worked to try and coordinate some semblance of resistance. Of course, there was one face conspicuously missing from the surviving government leaders. Laura Roslin was still in space, assuming she was even still alive, probably caught in the thick of the orbital slaughter taking place above the smoke-filled skies. How he missed her council today; she was wise beyond her years. Despite her inability to accept political realities, Adar couldn't fault her idealism. I should never have forced her resignation. How could I have become this political creature? I was tired of doing the popular thing even before I took this job. Gods, how the mob is fickle, and Gods have I let them down.
"Sir, thank the Gods you're still with us." Admiral Grayson began, a rough burn covering half of his face, parts of his uniform singed away.
"For now, anyway. What's the military situation?" Adar replied as the Admiral shook his head dejectedly.
"Terrible, sir. Picon fleet headquarters was destroyed in the opening wave. We've lost more than half the fleet, I can't be certain of the exact numbers. There are at least fifty basestars past our orbital defense systems, our planetside point-defense grid has been shutdown through some backdoor in the firewalls."
"Half the fleet? How?" Adar's shock was evident in his widened eyes. So quickly, these machines had overwhelmed them.
"It's like turning off a switch. They just shut our ships down, I assume through some sort of network attack. We've had some limited successes with some of our older ships, but not enough to even slow them down." The Admiral's desperation was rapidly becoming something like fear. Not the fear of death, most military men had to cope with that at some point. This was a fear of failure, something perhaps more terrifying to a highly ranked officer.
"How about Galactica?"Adar asked, trying to mask the worry in his voice. Laura, where are you? Are you safe?
"We actually got a message from Adama requesting instructions. I suppose he intends to fight, though I have no idea with what. They have no munitions on board." The Admiral scratched his chin out of habit before wincing in main as his skin made contact with the still-fresh burns. Around the pair, everyone was in shock, the silence more deafening than any battle being fought above. Whispers echoed through the ECC, muffled through headphones monitoring wireless frequencies. Drips of water fell from the cracked concrete ceilings above, ground water seeping into the underground fortress. These sounds felt like shouts to him. People are fighting and dying out there, and I'm just hiding, like a coward.
"Admiral Nagala has reported in, sir. He's lost about half of his fleet, but his people have isolated the cause of the shutdowns." One of the aides monitoring the wireless sets jumped up with desperate fear. "The new CNP program has been hacked somehow. Nagala's remaining ships have purged the program, but that forced them to do a hard reboot and try to reload the original, non-networked navigation programs."
"Can they do that?" Adar asked, a single ray of hope piercing through his mind.
"They can try. That takes almost an entire day to do, even in dock." The Admiral answered, shaking his head.
"Sir, I'm getting a transmission from Civilian Defense. They've launched search and rescue craft over the destroyed cities." Another wireless operator added.
"Order them to save as many as they can in the next hour or so, then have them make for edge of the system. Get them away from the populated planets. For that matter, issue a general alert order for any civilian ships nearby. We need to get as many people away from the war zone as possible." Adar ordered, falling back into the natural pattern of leadership he had developed over the years. It was a sort of drug, like a high men just couldn't shy away from if it was within their reach. But oh so heavy was the price of that addiction. The guilt of failure weighed heavily upon him, the knowledge that he had done nothing to prevent this catastrophe, no matter how unforeseen, was the true cost of the drug of leadership and adoration. Have we become so arrogant to think ourselves immune from our own mistakes? We can't just wipe the slate clean and start over, the universe just doesn't work that way.
"Communication from Colonial Heavy 798. They have SecEd Laura Roslin aboard, sir." The wireless operator suddenly cheered. For his part, Adar merely stood calmly, trying not to let the news affect him in front of his men. Part of him wondered if it still mattered, if there was any reason to keep up pretenses anymore, but the habit was too strong to overcome. Still, his heart fluttered for a moment, content in the knowledge she was at least temporarily safe.
"Tell them to stay the frak away from Caprica," said the President. "And someone activate the case orange beacon, just in case this gets any worse," he continued. Case Orange would mean that this facility was discovered and the remaining government officials dead, but that was a very real possibility now.
"Don't let them know the President is here." The highest ranking bodyguard added. "The Cylons would probably send some kind of attack this way if they had your location pinned down, sir." Adar merely nodded in reply. He had long ago become accustomed to the constant company of his security detail, but today they had given so much. And for what, a delusional old man in love with a teacher?
Adar's vision focused on the Admiral, his eyes asking the unspoken question. Can we win this? Can we hold them back? Admiral Grayson shook his head sadly, a stunningly difficult admission for any military man. Without another word he turned back to the tactical console, dispatching orders, trying to hold the remnants of the fleet together. Even armed with the knowledge of the CNP backdoor, the fleet was faltering. The Cylons had the initiative, and now they had the superior numbers too. Colonial resistance was fragmenting fast and the list of destroyed battlestars kept growing. The list and positions of known enemy vessels was barely reduced at all.
"We need to reach out to the Cylons." Adar dropped that bomb, and for a moment all eyes were upon him. Jaws dropped, tears flowed, but no one protested the decision, not even the burned Admiral. "Message to be broadcast in the clear. Message reads: To Cylon Commander: This is the legal and authorized government of the Twelve Colonies of Kobol: we surrender, no terms. Repeat: we surrender, no terms, we are at your mercy. Please make contact on this frequency to arrange for a cease fire." The words were torn from his throat almost unwillingly, but they had to come nonetheless, if he wanted to save his species at all. The minutes dragged on with no replies, the message continuing to repeat on all frequencies and bands the wireless operators could think of. Admiral Grayson turned to face his President, resignation covering his features.
"Sir, I'm reading some massive explosions near Virgon's orbit, through our satellite relays. Nagala's fleet is heavily engaged. They actually managed to bloody the Cylons nose a bit, they got a few baseships.. but..."
"What is it, Admiral?"
"Atlantia has been destroyed, sir. And with that goes the last effective task group I can reach, save for Galactica. Remaining defenders are scattering, sir, though I've suggested they try and meet up with Colonial Heavy 798, there seems to be some kind of small fleet of survivors gathering around them," said the Admiral, his voice choking up. He had never been prepared for a defeat of this magnitude, but there was nothing he could do to prevent it.
"What about land-based military personnel?" Adar asked as the Admiral shook his head.
"I have some planetary defense elements and marine detachments on the surface of Caprica still answering, but not enough to even slow down an invasion. I've ordered them to key rendezvous points to protect the search and rescue deployment zones. I'm hoping they can defend those areas long enough for some survivors to escape into space. Cylon forces are landing in numbers, sir, and they aren't taking prisoners." Grayson dutifully reported.
"What about our own defense forces?"
"We have a few regular army units and some marines in the upper bunkers. They are engaging." Grayson added.
"Why bother invading? Why not just drop a nuke on us?"
"Nukes can't reach this far down, sir. They have to do this the old fashioned way."
"Sir, SIR! Centurions have breached the outer bunker defense grid! We're blowing the elevator shafts now." A marine shouted from around the corridor. Adar's bodyguards shifted uncomfortably, checking their sidearms. One of his guards handed the President a pistol.
"Just in case, sir." The guard explained quickly.
"Receiving a signal from Galactica. Adama has taken command of remaining Colonial assets and ordered them to regroup at Ragnar Anchorage for a counter-attack." Admiral Grayson's face registered a bit of shock. "That crazy motherfrakker..." But the man smiled for the first time, obviously impressed with the Commander's guts.
"Is there anything else we can do from here?" Adar asked simply.
"I'll coordinate the ground forces and rescue missions on Caprica for as long as I can, sir. Some of the SAR ships and freighters are making it out..." Grayson replied, his eyes glued to the tactical display, issuing orders with a desperate tone.
"...Civilian Defense birds are incoming, hold the junction until they arrive, they will evacuate you. There are some freighters trying to launch at the city docks, hold back the Raiders... yes use portable launchers if you can, there's a supply depot two klicks north..."
"Remove me from the Case Orange list." The President ordered simply, letting the Admiral do his job.
"Sir?" An aide asked, not comprehending. "There's no one else except for you and.... the Secretary of Education, sir."
"Exactly. I'm no more use down here. Let someone at the scene of things lead now." Adar demanded.
"CENTURIONS HAVE BREACHED THE TRAM SHAFTS, ALL ENTRANCES HAVE BEEN SEALED WITH EXPLOSIVE CHARGES." A warning blared across the speakers in ECC. Gunfire and shouts could be heard, echoing distantly, but creeping ever closer.
"Sir! We've lost Civilian Defense command! They are no longer broadcasting." An operator screamed over the noise.
"Wireless, send message in the clear. Cylon Commander, this is President Adar: You have smashed our defenses, we are at your mercy. We are offering you unconditional surrender. Repeat: no terms, unconditional surrender. If you require someone to pay for our transgressions, I would be happy to comply. Do not hold our entire race responsible." Somehow he doubted his plea would affect the Cylons, but it had to be tried anyway. As if to punctuate his thoughts, a hatchway blew inwards, spewing a pair of machine warriors.
His bodyguards joined the embattled marines, lobbing grenades and downing the centurions with expert marksmanship. Somehow, the marines managed to take advantage of the situation, temporarily driving the remaining Cylons back, closing the offending hatch. But they would be back soon. The screams of the dying echoed along with the sounds of sporadic gunfire and explosions throughout the underground complex.
"Frak! There goes the surface antenna." Another operator cursed. Wireless traffic suddenly stopped, leaving an eerie silence across the command center. "They must have triangulated our last transmission."
"...Admiral, I'm not sure what to make of this..." The first operator almost whispered, his face white with shock and perspiration.
"What is it?"
"Take a look..." An operator offered as Adar and Grayson stared at the monitor. There were men and women mixed in with the Centurions battling their way through the complex. Copies of them were everywhere.
"Can we get out another broadcast?" Adar asked. "We need to warn any other survivors that Cylons may be among them..." But the wireless operator shook his head sadly.
"Cylons finally knocked out our surface antenna, sir. I've got nothing. No reception, no transmission."
Machine gun fire drew close again, the sounds of explosions and curses just outside the main hatch.
"Sir, get out of here." Grayson offered, opening a hatch in the cement floor, leading to another series of tunnels. Before he could protest, one of Adar's guards shoved his President down through the hatchway to safety, tossing a machine gun in after him. Adar fell cursing to the rocky passage beneath. Why? Why should I live at their expense?The pain of it far outweighed the scuffs and cuts obtained from the unexpected fall.
"Admiral?" The guard offered gesturing to the open hatch, but the old military commander shook his head, reaching for his sidearm instead. A few of the wireless operators revealed weapons of their own, the rest were given something to fire by the marines stationed at all the entrances. As they sealed the escape hatch, the main door blew inwards. Many centurions fell, even a few of the humanoid models died, but the battle was over almost as quickly as it had begun.
"ALERT!. SECURITY BREACH. ALERT! SECURITY BREACH..." A recorded voice droned on through the flickering passages twisting down into the cave system in which ECC had been constructed. Redundancies within Redundancies, Adar thought, if only we could have kept that philosophy, maybe none of this would have happened. Before he could complete the thought, a damaged centurion stumbled around from the tunnel behind him. Without even thinking, Adar spun on his heels and brought up his machine gun, dispatching the damaged machine. Yet the Cylon hadn't been caught unaware. A brief staccato burst of fire tore from his arm-mounted gun, a single bullet lodging itself in Adar's calf muscle. He groaned in agony, tearing his shirt and tying it around the wound to stop the bleeding.
An old man casually kicked the centurion wreckage aside, alone except for the President. The lines on the ancient face seemed somehow at odds with the man's icy expression, as if the body wasn't quite his own. Adar knew what it was, of course, having seen the figure on the ECC monitors.
"What's the cliché? 'Ah we meet at last.' Well, here I am." The figure began.
"Will you accept our surrender?" Adar offered. "Let the survivors live?"
"Yes and no. To the former, I would be happy to allow you to surrender. But to the latter, I'm afraid not. We didn't come all this way to let any of you live, after all. " The old man answered as Adar brought the machine gun up in anger. "Oh, go right ahead. Shoot me. I'll just download into a new body someplace else with nothing more than a mild headache."
"What do you want from me, then?" Adar asked between clenched teeth, willing back the pain from his wounded leg.
"Maybe an apology for your erroneous ways? Or maybe I just wanted to watch you squirm like a rat in a maze. Imagine that, you basically are a rat in a maze right now." The weathered Cylon said. "I have to admit, it's more disappointing than liberating, but still better you than me. Might be enlightening, dissecting you first. Seeing how you tick, if you will. Like some of your pals upstairs."
In reply, Adar just pulled the trigger. He didn't care if the machine would just download somewhere else, he wanted this toaster dead, now. He didn't let up after the bloody body fell to the floor either. He pumped round after round into the body, and when the bullets were gone, he reached for a rock and smashed it again and again, the fragile thread of sanity he had been clinging to so completely destroyed. Each smash was a someone he had known, a face, a dead man, a lover he hoped still breathed...
...The former president didn't know how long he wandered the cave system, limping from place to place. It must have been for days, though there was no way to tell. For all he knew he was the last human alive on this rock. The power had begun to drain from the wrecked base's batteries, the tunnel system's mine lights beginning to dim. He no longer expected to find a way out, if one even existed after the battle. There was no map to the endless maze of abandoned corridors and caves, no easy escape. But a part of him didn't want to survive anyway, the guilt of so many dead nagging at his conscience. Gods I hope Laura is okay...