Disclaimer: Everything you recognize is owned by someone else. Everyone you don't was created to play with RDM and Eicks toys. Not sure how Pullo from Rome ended up in the sandbox, but he ain't mine either.
Overall Rating: Mature
Warning: Gina did experience rape and torture. There are confrontations with a rapist. Mature themes, Sex, Violence, Language. Nothing is explicit, but it all adds up.
Author's note: If your a returning reader, Yes I'm alive, sorry I suck for not updating. Long boring story best skipped. I've made some revisions. I'm doing a read through so the chapters will go up one at a time. Too many weird mistakes were in this chapter not to. Major additions will show up in Chapter 3. I love feed back. Tends to give me a boost that helps me focus on the work. Here's to being crisis free with plenty of free time. Cheers.
WE KNOW NOT WHAT WE DO
Trust Book 1
Prologue Day Zero A.C.
The humans called them toasters, great metal machines without a hint of humanity, never thinking they could be more. Humans were wrong. God's will had been made clear. Cylons had emulated human physiology - and surpassed it.
They came and the Pegasus shook with the fury of explosions. Helena recovered quicker than Gina had thought possible for a human. They got to CIC and it was apparent their quick response had been wasted. The world below them was lit by burning clouds erupting across every continent. The colonial vessels surrounding them were nothing but scraps of metal floating in space. Helena ordered a blind jump, then another and another. Each materialization was probable death. The first four revealed the same scene of destruction. After the fifth brought them to safety Helena met Gina's eyes.
Gina was in shock like everyone else, only the source was different. Double-edged pride filled her. The attack had destroyed the twelve colonies and most of its twenty billion inhabitants. Helena had saved the Pegasus. God's will was as divided as her own. The cylon infiltrator followed her mission and her desire. She gave the woman in command of the last mercury class battlestar a look of empathetic support before burying herself in the command computer's repair.
Indistinguishable from the humans around her, she helped identify the trojan horse in the CNP. By the end of the first day she had reinforced Helena's trust and admiration. She worked tirelessly to fix the ship along side it's crew; repairs which culminated in de-networking the computers, negating the Cylons greatest advantage. By the end of the week she was shackled, bruised and bleeding in the Pegasus brig. Her cover blown by a sister, her lover gave the order that would change her beyond recognition: pain, shame, degradation and humiliation.
Part One: Killing Time
Chapter 1 Day 1019 A.C.
Gina sat cross-legged in the middle of a pristine, primeval forest. Blue eyes reveled in the lush foliage as sunlight glinted against honey blond hair, so unlike that of most Sixes. A rare sense of contentment washed through her as the sun caressed her long willowy frame. Scars and reknit bone melted away in these woods. She was as she'd always wanted to be - naked in a forest. She breathed deeply, luxuriating in the scents of flowers, leaves and soil. She listened to the sounds of animals rustling in the underbrush. Soon a red-throated warbler would call out and a woodpecker would begin to hammer. A gust of wind blew cool air across her skin, tugging at her hair, though the trees didn't seem to notice. Probably the temperamental air conditioning in her frakking high-security cell on the Galactica. She chose to ignore it, but the illusion was ruined. Still, a ruined illusion was better than counting bolts.
Memories from different lives tried to surface. Despite never having resurrected she counted herself as having had four. She struggled to keep all but 'this life' at bay. It was the only one whose memories didn't cut with a razor's edge.
She had been just Six, filled with calm and absolute certainty surrounded by unchanging family. The differences between then and now were always painfully shocking. Her second life undercover had been thrilling and fulfilling, full of challenges and new experiences. If she let herself remember all that no longer was she would go insane. Her third life shattered the first two. It consisted solely of overwhelming agony. Her current life was shaped by bits and pieces of the other three: what she wished she could reclaim, what she wanted to let go of and what she couldn't get rid of. All she wanted from it was peace. It persistently eluded her.
She couldn't find her way back to the place where thoughts stopped and a tranquil projection continued. At least the invading morass of thoughts and images pertained to this life, though the subject of them never brought peace. Once she had gloated as the Eight, Sharon Agathon, rotted in a cell despite her choice to betray the Cylon race. Given the chance, Gina would have told the Eight she was an idiot to trust in the affection of humans. Secure in the knowledge of how unreliable and inconsistent Eights and humans were, Gina had decided she need do nothing but wait. Her errant sister's inevitable defection from the Colonial Fleet would get her out of the hopeless mess her existence had become.
The Eight's dimpled smile and dark wide set eyes were set in a cherubic face. They perfectly matched the model's tendency to be distracted by any new toy. Yet even after the loss of both husband and child, Sharon 'Athena' Agathon, had remained loyal to humanity. And they trusted her completely. Not only had she been she released from prison, she was made an officer. Humans took orders from her. Nothing had happened as Gina thought it would. Seeing the Eight's choices continue to yield a better outcome than her own disturbed her as much as the Eight's betrayal.
Gina's belly began to rumble loudly. Thoughts of the Eight weren't helping. Gina would never make sense of her. She buried herself in memories she could tolerate reliving, maybe she could make sense of herself...
Coming out of sleep and darkness, she felt warmth and softness. Something was missing...pain. Almost too comfortable to care, she tried to place herself without opening her eyes. She'd gotten caught in Pegasus's hangar bay; yet she was in a bed with sheets and a pillow. Odd smells. The hushed voices, low and far away, were definitely not Cylon. She cracked open her eyes to blindingly bright lights and blinked away tears. An unfamiliar ceiling came into focus. Surrounded by a curtain, there were no chains, no locks, just soft cuffs tethered to the bed. Tubes ran below them into her hands. Incomprehensibly, she was alone.
Fragments of memory assaulted her: pain, torture, Thorne, Helena - Stop! Shuddering from non existent cold, she focused: muffled voices, softly clanging metal, the squeak of an ungreased wheel, and the low hum of life support systems. She breathed deeply (now that hurt) and prayed to be left alone. That hope was dashed by the sound of approaching footsteps and the rustle of the curtain around her bed.
Gina feigned unconsciousness, but flinched when fingers brushed her arm. She opened her eyes and met the startled stare of young woman in a medical military uniform. The woman backed up and calling for a doctor, vanished through the curtain. A soldier with an odd looking gun stared through a gap in the curtain, but didn't move. Gina tried to sit up; her stomach flipped as the room went out of focus. Pain spiked through her head. She collapsed, shaking and shivering, as sweat covered her body.
"I hope you gave her some ice before you bolted out of there." A white haired old man stepped in front of the soldier. "Get some damned ice!" he yelled back. Cup in hand he approached, "So, you're awake. It's about time."
He reached forward, water already dripping from his fingers. Gina's body stiffened and jerked away. He stopped, looked her in the eye and spoke firmly. "You are my patient. Behind this curtain, no one will harm you."
He believes what he's saying. He brought the chips to her mouth and Gina relaxed in spite of herself. God, the ice is good.
"I'm Dr. Cottle. You are aboard the Battlestar Galactica. What is the last thing you remember?"
Not the Pegasus. Gina glared at the soldier through the gap in the curtain. "Killing the guard in Pegasus' brig." Her voice cracked, dampening the threat.
Cottle went on unfazed. "What happened after that?"
Gina faced the blank wall created by the curtain. "I can't remember."
Cottle peered at her and nodded. "Alright. Eight days ago you killed Admiral Cain. You were caught trying to escape from the ship. Apparently the crew decided you needed to suffer more for killing their glorious leader. Galactica's marines intervened before they agreed on how. You were brought to this ship, where you are going to stay. You are currently on full spectrum antibiotics and mild painkillers. You've gotten too many knocks to the head to get anything stronger. If you move around; you'll regret it. I also suggest not looking in the mirror for the next few weeks, but you're going to recover."
Cottle waited for a response that didn't come. Gina stared unmoving. He let out the restraint and moved the cup of ice closer. "Don't get the wrong idea. You're not shackled, but if you poke your head outside that curtain, marines will shoot you on the spot. Am I clear?"
Gina nodded, wincing at the pain.
"Good. Lunch in an hour." Cottle left.
Gina shut her eyes and remembered stepping out of her cell..
She knew that she should leave the Pegasus quickly, but as soon as Baltar put the gun back in her hand and said 'justice' she thought of killing Helena. Everything Gina felt for her had died, buried in pain and the revolting smells of sweat, semen, alcohol, blood and excrement. Gina wanted to tell Helena that she was the embodiment of why humanity was being destroyed. That she had obliterated all doubt and regret from Gina's soul. But most of all she wanted to see her flinch. She got in and waited. Helena looked at the gun with resignation. Gina threw her words back at her. "Are you going to roll over and beg?" Resignation became anger. "Frak you." Too much anger. Gina instinctively twisted the knife. "You're not my type." A sharp breath, tearing eyes, good enough. She pulled the trigger.
Cold and smooth as a razor, she left her lover in a pool of blood.
She entered the hangar and saw Baltar fidgeting nervously. He jerked his head toward a cargo crate. She moved quickly. Her hands were on it when a man shouted and ran toward her waving a wrench. Then...nothing. She really did forget.
Reflexively she touched her face and instantly regretted it. Wetness coated her fingers. Drawing them away she stared. Not blood. Tears.
""""""""""
The loud rumble in her belly pulled Gina from the past. Over the last weeks her rations had been shortened along with everyone else's. Starvation is the last way she expected this life to end. Shifting on her cot she willed herself back...
She finished her meal and reveled in her full stomach. Letting out a breath, she carefully crossed her legs. Relieved that the movement didn't cause more than a twinge of pain, she began to knead her bare feet. It wasn't much, but much more than she had been able to do for herself on the Pegasus.
Other than Cottle and his medics, Baltar had been her only visitor. His eyes had shifted while his body twitched. He promised to help her if she helped him. One of the guards behind the curtain snickered. Baltar straightened, became more like before, but not quite. His eyes and the odd pitch that kept creeping into his voice gave him away. Concern laced with threats, assurance undermined by fear, he needed her silence. She doubted she could rely on him for anything now, not hat she wanted to. Her tormented soul remained trapped inside a broken body. If only he hadn't filed her with doubt about the best way off this ship. Another resurrection ship was on it's way. She didn't have much time. She stared mutely at the curtain until he left.
""""""""""
She didn't want to think, her thoughts were as dangerous as her memories. She concentrated on conversations, humans chatted incessantly. Her hearing was still off, sometimes too sensitive, sometimes muddled with echos, but she needed information. She had to get this right. She heard Dr. Cottle's distinctive voice. If he followed his routine she would be the last one he visited on his rounds. She wasn't.
"How'd she behave during the night?"
"The usual, lots of thrashing and muttering, woke up screaming, don't think she got back to sleep."
"To be expected," Cottle said.
Gina was sure he got a morning report from the medical staff, yet he always asked the marines. He was announcing his intent to enter, foolish but kind. The curtain rustled.
"Morning-"
"Morning-" Gina spoke to Cottle, ignoring the silent marine armed with the trank gun. The sedative might kill her or just part of her brain. She would wake shackled and more helpless than ever.
"How're you feeling?" Cottle asked.
"Good." Gina lied, yet didn't.
"Alright." Cottle looked at her bruises and checked her eyes with a pencil light. "Looks like you'll live. I'm going to give you a mild sedative - I need to do a full examination."
The sedative relaxed Gina. She tried to project a forest to quell her urge to evade his touch. It worked for a few minutes before uniformed men began to appear in the shadows of the trees...
Despite his feigned indifference, Cottle was perceptive and responsive. He backed off. "Just stay focused on me, sorry the view isn't better."
She watched his nonchalant dance around her uncontrollable reactions. Complete dedication was carefully hidden behind a chain of cigarettes and gruff remarks. He really didn't give a rat's ass what anybody thought of him. If Gina hadn't become fascinated by him she'd have stuck her head out of the curtain as soon as she could stand.
The exam completed, Cottle stepped back and looked Gina in the eye. "You're well enough to be transferred to the brig."
Gina's stomach cramped and her fingers dug into the mattress. Memories she fought so hard to block washed over her. Breathless, her body stiffened and paled.
"Gina." Cottle repeated himself until she became responsive. "I know what they did to you on the Pegasus. It was an abomination. Admiral Adama is not Cain. You will not be raped or tortured on this ship."
"Of course not." Gina spoke through clenched teeth.
Cottle didn't blink. "If you think I've worked so hard to get you well just to let you be tortured, you're not as smart as I thought you were. Our Cylon, Sharon, was attacked by Thorne. He was stopped by men from this ship. Sharon's husband, an officer from this ship, was murdered on the Pegasus, probably by the same men who tortured you. His death and the mistreatment of our crew chief infuriated everyone on this ship. And we are all revolted by what was done to you. Admiral Adama is committed to keeping you and Sharon safe. Cooperate with the transfer."
Gina stared at him wondering whether he had lost his mind or he just assumed she'd lost hers.
Cottle's eyes clouded. He began to speak in a voice she hadn't heard before. "I had a family back in the colonies. I have every reason to hate you and your people, but I will not allow you to suffer or be brutalized. Not now. Not ever."
Cottle departed abruptly. Gina stared after him until the curtain stilled. She returned to kneading her feet, unaware as the pressure from her own hands increased. She had to admit that she had been treated well. The medics were afraid of her, the other patients reviled her and the marines saw her as a threat that should be airlocked, but no one had physically harmed her. Dr. Cottle treated her like any other patient. He was sincere, but he wouldn't be with her in the cell. She needed to think. She needed a plan, but she couldn't focus after hearing the word 'brig'.
The sound behind the curtain changed. There was a general hush. The guards had fallen completely silent. The one in charge snapped out. "Sir."
A calm, authoritative voice responded, "Stay alert soldier, I'm here to see the prisoner"
"Yes, Sir."
A man with an aura of confident authority and strength stepped through the curtain. She recognized the admiral insignia. Adama's gaze bore into her and seemed to strip her bare.