Ok, so this is gonna be my version of A Measure Of Salvation and take off from there. I call the cylons by name, not model number. I know this is short, but depending the reaction i get ill make the next chapters much longer.
Peace - Lo
On Galactica…
"Admiral, are you sure it was safe to bring the infected cylons aboard Galactica?" Roslin asked sounding concerned. Adama, President Rolsin and Helo paced through the ship corridors to the infirmary where the captive cylons were being held.
"Dr. Cottle seems to believe that humans have an immunity to the virus. I'd like to see what kind of shape the cylons are in. This could be a good time to get to the bottom of some unanswered questions we have about the cylons. There's still a lot we don't know about them Madam President." Adama's voice was stern; as it always is.
Roslin knew this was his call, and she didn't have any real objections anyways. She figured it was beneficial to the military to know as much as they could about their enemy. According to Lee, the cylons were in no shape to put up any kind of resistance. He even went as far to say they begged the marines to "send their souls to god". If the cylons we're truly as vulnerable as they seemed, then perhaps this was an opportunity that was too good to pass up.
They arrived at the infirmary and were meet by Dr. Cottle. "What's their condition?" the Admiral asked. The doctor turned around and faced the window looking into the infirmary.
"Take a look for yourself." He said semi-sarcastically.
There were six models; a Sharon, Simon, Doral, Caprica, D'anna and Leoben. They were in terrible condition. They looked weak and feeble. Open sores festered on their skin as they hacked up vomit and bile with each cough. Their breathing was heavy, upon listening carefully the crew could hear the cylons uttering what seemed to be a prayer. The doctor strode towards his desk, lit a cigar and sat down.
"Admiral, they aren't going to make it much longer without any antibiotics." Cottle said.
"How long could you keep them alive with the medicine?" Helo asked.
"Well I could cure them if you wanted me too, though I'm not sure why…" Adama cut the doctor off.
"We'd like to interrogate them and gain as much information as we could about the cylons objectives since New Caprica. I'll tell them that depending on how well they cooperate we can offer them a cure." The Admiral said. "How long will it take you to develop a vaccine?"
"About 20 minutes. Ill just have to check the chemical compounds of the RNA in their blood and tweak the vaccine as necessary." The doctor said. The Admiral nodded.
"Let's talk to our prisinors."
X
In the pilots barracks….(or wherever they drink and play cards)
Starbuck and Colonel Tigh had been in the pilot's barracks for hours. Round the clock binge drinking and excessive gambling had become a thing of daily routine. They were arrogant and disrespectful to anyone who hadn't been on the ground war during the occupation of New Caprica. They wore their demons on their sleeves and wallowed in their self-loathing. They ran their mouths to anyone and everyone. Their attitudes and words carried a lot of weight amongst the crew. Ever since the Exodus of New Caprica they'd done nothing but bring down morale and spread malcontent; they were a cancer to the fleet.
"Now they old man's bringing dying cylons aboard. What a frakking joke." Tigh said while throwing back a shot. Starbuck nodded.
"That's the kind of shit the fleets come to." She said. Tigh put his drink down and glared at Starbuck. "What is it, colonel?"
"You know, Starbuck, I heard they've got a model of the son of bitch who had you cooped up in that apartment for 4 months."
"Leoben." Starbuck uttered. Her tone changed as a rush of mixed emotions raced through her head. "Are you sure?" she asked.
"My source's keep me in the loop. I'm sure." Tigh said grinning. "Maybe you should pay you're old pal a visit?"
"Yeah…I think I should." Starbuck got out of her seat and stormed out of the room.