Nothing really to say except for thanks for the reviews aaaannnd….keep em coming.
Chapter 3: Frak, Frakkity, Frak, Frak, FRAK!
"Hey, watch the jacket!"
Colton bounced into her cell in the brig and turned around to glare at the two burly henchmen that had just hurled her into it. They turned away from her without a word and marched away.
"What?" She yelled after them. "All that and you're not even gonnae frisk me?!"
"Colton…shut UP." Edric looped his arms through the bars of the cell opposite and looked at her with a long suffering expression on his face. "Like you could have expected any better."
"Hey, better they find out now. Coddle, Codfish…"
"Cottle."
"COTTLE then!" She dismissed it with an expansive wave of her hand. "He was taking blood and even a cancer-stick sucking sawbones like him would be able to figure out that the status just ain't quite quo with our haem juice."
"You're just weird and you wondered why nobody spoke to you on the Cerberus."
"No I didn't. I knew perfectly well why they didn't speak to me. The men didn't speak to me because they liked my breasts too much and were afraid of my mind and the women didn't like speak to me because they didn't like my breasts and their heads were a lot emptier than mine."
"You really are in love with yourself. I thought it was just a summer thing." Edric smeared a hand over his face tiredly. "We're never going to get out of here now."
"Sure we are. Eventually one of us should learn to pick a lock or use our feminine wiles to get out of here."
Edric arched a brow at her and Colton propped her chin on her fist, her elbow on the bars of her cell and smiled at him like a china doll.
"Oh, I was referring to you, sweet-cheeks. Better start waxing those shapely legs of yours."
"You're insane."
"Same's been said about you, and a lot more frequently, I can tell you."
At his glower she sought to cheer him a little.
"Hey, don't worry, sooner or later our expertise will be required. There's always uses for a genius and a flyboy in a war. Necessity will always outstrip caution when it comes to the continuation of human life."
"You really are a cold bitch, you know that?" Edric glowered at her.
Colton shrugged one shoulder and pulled the cigarettes and lighter she had filched from Cottle's lab coat pocket. She perched one of the hand rolled ciggies between her full lips and cupped her hand when she lit it. She inhaled deeply and blew a smoke ring at the ceiling.
"Only way to travel." She answered absently and looked right into the single eye of the security camera right over their heads.
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"Well," Adama noted, "she's an unsettling one." They were in the observation room that the security camera footage was fed into. It was just the two of them, Saul was on his way, Roslin had sent Tory to go fetch him. Not that Saul needed a Presidential aide to escort him, but Tory was being particularly irritating after the whole 'held at knifepoint' incident and Laura had just wanted five minutes of peace.
"But apparently quite well informed." Roslin countered. "What do you think?"
"Is she lying?" Adama looked over at the President and tilted his jaw as he thought about it. "It's possible but…unlikely I think. Even if they are Cylons, why choose this identity to assume?"
"One of them is supposed to be related to you. Leverage?"
"Can't say that I'm feeling the nepotism." Adama said in a low growl. Roslin tilted her head at him. "I don't appreciate my Commander In Chief being taken hostage." He defended himself and leant a little closer to her. "How's the neck?" His fingers tilted her jaw back and Laura went completely still. Her tongue traced her lips nervously and she swallowed hard. She hadn't been ready for that. Usually she was given a little more warning to prepare herself when he was about to touch her. She couldn't deny that it felt nice though.
"Fine, just stings a little."
"Hmm." More a growl than anything else. "Boy's lucky I didn't have him shot." He leant even closer to inspect the small cut on her throat and they were unexpectedly close when she tilted her chin back down to meet his eyes.
"That 'boy' is nearly three times your age." She pointed out. "If their story is the truth."
"We'll get the DNA test back soon enough." Adama didn't move back and neither did she.
"What are you going to do if it's positive?"
"Me?"
"Well, he is your relative and this is your ship." Roslin smiled at him and he was struck with a sudden urge to put his hands on her again. See, this was why they shouldn't touch. It just gave mutinous parts of his anatomy ideas.
"That's never stopped you taking charge before." He pointed with a smile of his own. Roslin in charge was an intriguing prospect, but Roslin under his charge was even more interesting.
"In the interests of a continuing friendship, I'm not going to answer that."
He grinned, an expression stunning in its rarity. "How diplomatic of you, Madam President."
"It's in the job description." She said dryly.
"Yeah, the job." He muttered. Sometimes he hated the job. He saw an answering flash of emotion in her eyes and only forced himself to draw away and put some much needed professional distance between them when the hatch opened behind them announcing the arrival of Saul and Tory.
"More Cylons?" Saul demanded from behind his eye patch. "Won't these frakkers quit getting new faces?" Saul leaned between the President and the Admiral, forcing them further apart and peered at the security monitor set up for the camera feed. "Though he does look a bit like you, Old Man."
"He's nothing like me." Adama stated coldly and Saul arched the brow over his empty eye.
"Clearly." Was all he said before turning to glance at Roslin. "He managed to grab hold of you, Madam President?"
Roslin blinked, sometimes she thought she'd never get used to Saul's utter lack of charm, subtlety or anything remotely close to respect for her.
"Only for a short time."
"Definitely nothing like you." Saul agreed with Adama with something very close to sarcasm in his tone and ignored the Admiral's scowl and the President's look of confusion.
"The male claims himself to be Edric Adama, the same Major that went missing during the first Cylon Conflict and the female is supposedly Doctor Dana Colton, one of the most successful Biomechanical Engineers of her time. She was supposed to have something like five doctorates in various fields of expertise." Tory read from the history sheets she had cobbled hastily together. "Each of their records includes a DNA analysis, I had the sheets sent along to Doctor Cottle for confirmation with his blood analysis."
"Thank you, Tory." Roslin nodded to her assistant, who seemed to be doing marginally better this week. Her hair looked less like it had been styled in an activated airlock at least. Tory gave a jerky nod and stepped back to blend with the furniture so the 'adults' could talk. Roslin turned back to the two military men.
"We have to at least consider the possibility that they're telling the truth. That they are who they claim to be."
"Why, not let them rot in the brig?" Saul grumbled in his usual fashion and the President shot him an annoyed look before tamping it down and explaining with exaggerated care.
"Well, from what I've read, the Betty was a revolutionary stealth fighter that Cylon raiders couldn't track never mind aim at. Edric Adama was supposedly the only man that could fly her." Roslin canted a hip against the counter and folded her arms over her chest. "On the other hand, Doctor Colton was one of the greatest minds of her time. Her father was the man that dreamed up the first Cylons and built them too. If her reputation is correct then she's already forgotten more about Cylons than we could ever hope to learn. If they really are allies then we can't afford to let a resource like that go to waste."
"They could also be sleeper agents, like Sharon was or like Bulldog. They could have gotten inside their heads and pulled all manner of frakked up stuff on them." Saul pointed out, determined to suck all the hope out of the room at any given opportunity.
"I want scenarios for both options." Adama said and glanced at Roslin. "Agreed?"
"Sounds prudent to me." She nodded.
"Sounds far too kind." Saul muttered. "I say airlock them and be done with it. If they're Cylon sleepers then they won't be any danger to us and if they're who they say they are then we're no worse off. Can't lose something we never had."
Roslin stared at him for a long moment, giving him her full powered over-the-glasses glare until even Saul shifted uncomfortably.
"I think you'll find that it would matter to them. Humanity is hanging on by a thread, I'm not throwing anymore of them to the wolves unless it's a last resort." She said carefully, sometimes the man really chewed on her last nerve.
"Let's keep them confined to the brig for the moment. If the blood tests come back negative, they stay there under armed guard, if the blood confirms their story we'll move them to guest quarters but under restricted movement for the time being."
"Double up the guard on Doctor Colton." Roslin said suddenly, gazing at the small image of Colton prowling back and forth in her cell like a caged wolf. "If we're going to have any trouble, it will be from her."
"What makes you say that?" Saul demanded of her.
"Edric's a military man. Everything he has done up until this point has simply been following orders. He even deferred to you when you told him to sit down." She nodded to Adama. "Colton's not like that. She doesn't believe in an authority higher than her own. We'll have to watch her."
Adama stood for a moment and mulled it over. The President had already given him free rein to deal with this as he saw fit. He finally gave a sharp nod.
"Agreed."
"Good, now that's settled I have a Quorom meeting to attend that's been delayed long enough." Roslin flicked her wrist to glance at her watch. "Keep me informed?" She glanced at the Admiral.
"Yes, Madame President."
With one last smile at him, Roslin and Tory left through the hatch they had come in. Both Saul and Adama watched them go. Adama knew his XO was gearing up to say something less than pleasant and waited for it.
"Is it true you picked her up and shoved her behind you. Shielding her from the frakking guy with the gun?"
Bill only glared at him and Saul chuckled darkly.
"I believe that falls under the category of going above and beyond."
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Roslin sat at her chair in the longest Quorum meeting in the history of humanity and tried not to show how uncomfortable she was feeling. Her chest was tight, it was far too hot in this stuffy room and she had a disgusting metallic taste in her mouth that reminded her uncomfortably of coppery blood and no amount of water sipping was going to rinse it away. Tory kept glancing at her, sensing something was up. Roslin hid it well, she couldn't stand it when people fussed over her, and Tory was worse than a broody mother hen.
She did hope this meeting would end soon though.
It was probably something to do with her latest course of cancer treatments. Talk about the cure being as bad as the cause. Every time she lay down on that bed in the medical bay she was hooked up to that frakking drip and felt sick to her stomach with the roiling nausea and vicious cramps. Roslin's hand tightened on her pen. Her vision wavered slightly but she dug her nails into her leg under the table and managed to spur herself back to somewhere near lucid again.
Finally, finally FINALLY they wrapped up.
Roslin made all the right noises and made it to her feet with barely a wobble. She shook hands and smiled in all the right places. Saying something, she didn't know what, she didn't care, she just wanted to retreat back to Colonial One, curl up in her cot and maybe die for a little while.
Until her next meeting at least.
But then the world tilted and her vision tunnelled down to a pinpoint. She heard shouting as if through water and had the vague sensation of the floor rushing up and battering one side of her body and face. She winced and moaned in pain but couldn't manage any more than that. She flopped onto her back, staring sightlessly at the ceiling until Tory's face appeared floating above her.
Oh Gods, this was it. The end. She hadn't thought it would come this quickly. She had known she was dying. Accepted it in some academic cool fashion, but her heart had refused to let go of that one tiny hope that had been born on New Caprica. Of seeing Earth, of building a cabin by a pool of water clear as glass. Of Bill helping her to build it and maybe, just maybe, retiring from the job long enough to stay for a while.
Bill.
Roslin tried to open her mouth, trying to speak, trying to tell Tory. Go and get Bill. Roslin wanted to see him, one last time. Just once more before she took the long lonely walk away from him and everyone she cared about in this life. Her hand clasped Tory's arm and she tried desperately to speak. Her throat and tongue couldn't utter a sound but her eyes refused to stop screaming.
Roslin had the impression of Tory looking up, barking orders and enforcing order amongst the riotous chaos that the Quorom had descended into. She was Aide Extraordinaire and Gods help anyone that didn't heed her words. She saw the Tauran delegate throw open the hatch and bellow into the corridor, then everything whited out and she slipped into a cold kind of peace.
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Adama stood at the strategy table and looked over the tiny representations of the fleet inching their way across the glowing grid. He braced one fist against the table and tried to will the nausea away by the fierceness of his determination alone. A bitter metallic taste plagued his mouth and his vision was hazy at best. The sounds of the CIC bubbled around him as if heard from far away and lulling him nearer and nearer to the inky black of a deep sleep. He felt tired to his bones, but then, he pretty much always felt tired these days. Trying to keep an entire race alive on a rag tag fleet of poorly outfitted and under supplied ships was not an easy job and he couldn't afford to be feeling like crap.
Adama sucked in a breath, lifted his coffee and sipped cautiously. He already felt like he wanted to be sick so badly that if he ever was he might just turn completely inside out. At that charming image his stomach did a back flip and he ordered it to stand to attention and get under regulation control. It managed a quivering slump and he decided to take what he could get. The coffee burned all the way down and felt like acid to his innards.
"How you doing, Old Man?" Saul appeared at his side and Adama tried to ignore the way his brain sloshed in his skull when he turned to see his oldest friend. He opened his mouth to tell the other man to pick up the scale model of Colonial One and just beat him over the head with it and put him out of his misery, when a barked word from Dee put all that on hold.
"Contact!"
The change in the CIC and everyone in it was instantaneous. Training and experience snapped their spines straight and heightened reflexes like they had been idling on battery power before and had now been hooked up to the mains. Adama's coffee clunked to the table, half missed and clattered to the floor forgotten. Reports came from every machine, consoles lit up across the board and alarms sounded throughout the ship. It all tumbled and churned like a well oiled machine and Adama couldn't help but feel a little bit of pride even as his stomach quailed under the adrenaline flooding his system.
"Scramble Vipers." Saul barked and Adama looked up at DRADIS, counting the raiders streaming in. so far only one battalion of them, no basestars as of yet. Which was the way he was hoping to keep it.
Adama marched himself to the centre of the CIC and eyed nearly everyone in the room despite the black spots hovering in his vision.
"Scramble fighters. Order the fleet to spool up their FTLs and jump as soon as, then get the frak out of here after them. Quick and clean people." With that final order, Adama crumpled in on himself and slumped to the floor of the CIC.
