It was just like the commander, no the admiral to send one of his fresh faced lackeys to frak with him so soon after the battle. The last thing that Cottle wanted to do was pretend to care about a drug inventory. And the more he thought about it, the more that Lt. Gaeta set off warning bells. He glared darkly at the younger man as he opened the drug cabinet. " Frankly, we're running out of everything. Painkillers, tranquilizers, antibiotics… Go ahead and count them."

Gaeta nodded dutifully and began to count the bottles. " You keep everything together? Antibiotics and tranquilizers?" His tone suggested that he questioned the wisdom of that.

Cottle seriously considered punching the little bastard. "Everything is clearly labeled, Lieutenant."

Gaeta nodded again, still counting the many vials. " Taking the wrong pills or too many can kill a person," the younger man said softly, his eyes intent on the different bottles.

Cottle's eyes narrowed in sudden interest. He covered it by lighting a cigarette. " Too much of anything will kill you," he said conversationally. " But we don't have enough of anything to really worry about that. Except for this stuff." He tapped one of the larger jars. " Good stuff if you're sick, lets a congested patient rest and breath easily, but five or six of these with a little alcohol…." He dragged on the cigarette. " It kills pretty quick. That's why I keep it locked up."

" That's a good idea," Gaeta said agreeably, still not looking at the doctor. " I can finish this up myself. I know how busy you are, Doctor."

" That'll be fine. I've got better things to do than hand hold you." Cottle walked out of the room, hoping he wasn't right about what he was thinking. Only time would really tell, he thought as he peeked back in and spotted Gaeta fiddling around in the cabinet. He had pointed out a weak tranquilizer. If Gaeta did what he thought, then he was going to have to have a serious conversation with him about more appropriate ways to handle depression, but until then, he had more critical patients to deal with.

" Damn it."

Tigh looked up from the report he was reading. Gaeta muttering curse words was usually a bad sign. The last time that had happened, the ship had nearly blown up. Hopefully, Tigh thought, it wasn't going to be so bad this time. Things were finally looking up. That bitch Cain was dead and mostly unlamented. The fleet had just handed the Cylons a sound defeat. Whatever the problem was, it couldn't be that bad. Nothing was on fire, after all.

" Mr. Gaeta, what seems to be the problem?" he asked as he walked over to the console that the younger man was fiddling with.

Gaeta looked up, seeming more flustered and irritated than Tigh could recall. " I was just trying to fix this console, sir. It's not giving proper readouts."

Not a crisis at all, Tigh thought with relief. " You were off shift three hours ago, Lieutenant. It'll be there in the morning." It was just the spare com unit. Dualla didn't even use it. Possibly because it didn't work.

" I promised I would fix it," Gaeta said quietly as he continued to work. " I wanted to get everything done… before I finished my shift… and this was the last thing I had left. It wouldn't be right to leave it."

Tigh shook his head. It was like Gaeta to be conscientious, but there was a limit. " Go on, get out of here. It can wait until your next shift." It wasn't like Dualla was going to notice, one way or another. He hadn't missed how she was suddenly paying an awful lot of attention to Lee Adama. Billy was about to get his heart broken, and Tigh wondered if Gaeta had entertained hope. It would explain why he was trying to fix a broken piece of equipment that hadn't worked in months.

He wasn't often glad that he was married, but it beat being third, or possibly even lower, on some woman's list.

Gaeta nodded. He looked suddenly tired, as if the work shift had finally caught up with him. Possibly more, they had all been working killer hours. He started to walk away and then came back. " Sir…."

"Yes, what?" Tigh was starting to get annoyed.

"You wouldn't…. You wouldn't happen to know where I could find… some alcohol?" Gaeta seemed embarrassed.

Tigh was too surprised to get angry. Of course, he didn't really try to hide the fact that he occasionally imbibed. It wasn't a secret. It was just… surprising to have Gaeta of all people ask him where to find it. Poor kid, he thought suddenly, the chief was never going to be intimidated into giving up precious "solvent" to Gaeta, hardly the most threatening of the officer corps. " Here," he said pleasantly as he pulled out his flask. " Bring me the flask when you're done."

Gaeta smiled. " I'll make sure you get this back, sir."

It had been a long day. Running a fleet, even a fleet of just two battlestars, was harder than it looked. It wasn't helped by the fact that the late and rather unlamented Admiral Cain had not valued organization nearly as much as she had admired fighting spirit. The ship was a mess, the spic and span show was just that, a show. The flight decks were lovely, as was the Pegasus CIC but the lower decks… He was no longer shocked by how timid and frightened some of the impressed civilian crewmen looked. He had made sure that Colonel Fisk understood the new rules and he had transferred a few people over to make sure that things calmed down and that all of the people were being treated fairly. He had no intention of allowing the ship atmosphere of casual hostility to continue. It was simply not going to be a short process.

There was a knock at his door. "Enter," he said quickly, glancing at the clock on his desk. It was getting late. He had an early morning meeting with the president. He looked up and saw Lt. Gaeta enter his quarters. " Something I can help you with, Lieutenant?"

" It's time for the monthly personal sidearm inventory." Gaeta tapped his clipboard. " I need to see your sidearm, sir."

Adama tried to not let his irritation show. Gaeta was a good officer but if the younger man had a flaw, it was his tendency to not differentiate between important duties and things that didn't need to be pursued so zealously. Maintaining the ship watch, searching lines of computer code and repairing the life support systems was apparently on the same level of importance as making up the laundry schedule and visually inventorying sidearms, in Gaeta's ordered mind.

Then again, there were worse problems. He watched as Gaeta examined the gun, taking great care to make sure it was loaded and ready. Then the younger set the weapon down on the desk. " Everything looks fine, sir." Gaeta stepped back from the desk, and looked down at his clipboard.

He wants something, Adama realized. He wondered what it could be. It wasn't like there were many favors or requests that could be granted, but there a few privileges that he could still hand out. Gaeta had been doing his job and doing it well, without complaint. " Is there something else, Lieutenant?"

Gaeta hesitated. " There is, sir." He looked nervously at Adama. " May I sit down, sir?"

Adama nodded, suddenly alert. It wasn't just nervousness, Gaeta was sweating and pale and that was strange. " Go ahead." Even more oddly, Gaeta took a seat that was a good five feet away from the desk. " So what is it?" Adama asked gently. A transfer to the Pegasus was his best guess. Gaeta liked networked systems, and technical things, and a ship full of such things was probably hard to resist.

" This is awkward," Gaeta said hesitantly. He looked down at his feet. " I wrote a detailed report on what we're about to discuss. It's on my desk in my quarters with some other letters."

" And what are we discussing?" Adama said after a moment. He was tired and not in the mood to gently probe around whatever Gaeta was upset about.

Gaeta put his hands behind his back, clearly clenching the back of the chair. " I'm a Cylon, sir."

Adama felt his blood run cold. He grabbed for the gun and in seconds was aiming at Gaeta. Much to his surprise, Gaeta was still seated, calmly looking at him. Scratch that, Adama realized as he glared at the man, Gaeta was as pale as milk and breathing hard, obviously trying to not shake. That was odd for a Cylon. " It's not a very funny joke, son."

" I am a Cylon, sir. It's not a joke. The safest thing, the best thing you can for the fleet right now is pull the trigger." Gaeta looked down at his feet.

" Why are you telling me this?" Adama asked after a long moment. The gun was loaded, he realized that Gaeta had cleverly made sure that his sidearm would be out and ready. There was little danger as long as he held the gun on Gaeta. Cylons were fast but they couldn't outrun bullets. That gave him time to figure out if Gaeta was trying to commit suicide in a spectacularly bizarre fashion. " If you are a Cylon, why would you tell me? You understand what will happen."

Gaeta nodded. " I know. I don't think you would understand my motivation, but I am telling the truth. You have a window of time right now where you can eliminate me as a threat without a concern that I might reveal the fleet position. I suggest you take that opportunity, sir."

" I think," Adama said slowly, " that we're going to talk a few minutes before I do that, Mr. Gaeta." He wanted to shoot, that was the instinct he was fighting. Shooting would feel good, and he wasn't blind to how Admiral Cain had met her end at the hands of a Cylon just days earlier. As good as letting instinct take over would feel, he had a duty to the fleet. If Gaeta was truly a Cylon, it was possible that he… knew things. Important things.

And there was still the possibility that the man had simply lost his mind.

" Why don't we start," Adama said slowly, " with why you are sitting here in my office telling me that you are a Cylon." He didn't think he was being unreasonable.

" You're my commanding officer." Gaeta took a deep breath. " I could take care of eliminating myself but its unlikely that you would believe any note that I left. If I didn't tell you, there would always be doubt, and that's not something you can afford. By telling you, you'll analyze my remains and be sure, and that's one more model of Cylon that you can warn the public about."

" You want me to kill you?" It felt like a trick, a Cylon trick.

" Not especially. There's a small window of opportunity to eliminate the risk I pose." Gaeta suddenly seemed almost calm. His body relaxed.

He was crazy, Adama thought. " What risk is that?"

" I know the fleet's position. I didn't tell you before because you would have had me killed." Gaeta's words seemed to slur just a little, but enough that Adama noticed. " If you had killed me before…. I can ignore the orders they give me, but I don't think I could protect the fleet if I had been killed and downloaded back to the resurrection ship. But now, there's no risk to the fleet or the Galactica. I'll just die."

The problem was that it did make sense. If he really was a Cylon. " But why?" That was what Adama didn't understand. " Why does the fleet matter to you? You're a Cylon."

" I took an oath as an officer of the fleet to defend the colonies," Gaeta said slowly. It was clear now that he was slurring his words. " I don't want to be the reason that everyone I know dies. I like everyone. I have friends. I don't know why they want me to kill everyone I know."

Adama considered that for a moment. He really wasn't sure, that was the problem. It was consistent with what he knew about Cylons, as little as that was, but Gaeta was well aware of the research into the Cylon mentality. He could easily confabulate a plausible story if he wanted to have a mental breakdown. He watched Gaeta carefully. Something was wrong, that was obvious. Gaeta seemed to be falling asleep in the chair, which was a little odd considering the gravity of the situation. " Mr. Gaeta, is there something else you'd like to tell me?"

Gaeta closed his eyes. " I knew you'd hesitate, sir. So I took care of it." He slumped to the floor.

He could be faking, Adama thought. But a Cylon willing to talk was too important to let die on the floor. He grabbed the phone and called down to the sickbay. " I need Dr. Cottle in my office immediately. And send two marines as well." He didn't put the gun down. There was always a chance that Gaeta really was a Cylon.