Chapter 4
Betrayal
'Do you know how this virus got into the Navigation Computer?'
'Someone must have put it there, sir. Someone with security clearance.'
'So someone on this ship?'
'Yes.'
Adama sat at his desk studying the piece of paper. Whoever wrote this had been part of his crew. The heavy feeling of betrayal settled inside his stomach and sat there like a fiery stone, eating away at him from the inside.
Gaeta leant over and pointed to a section near the bottom of the sheet. 'Here is the virus, sir. What it's designed to do is produce a random set of coordinates which it then broadcasts to the fleet. When we confirmed the jump coordinates we were sending out random numbers.'
'And you think each ship was sent to a different location?'
'It looks that way, sir.'
Adama sighed wearily, 'So what are our chances of finding them again?'
'There are literally millions of possible coordinates. If by some luck we find even one of them…well, it would be a miracle.'
Adama took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. Was this it, then? Had the Cylons finally defeated them, scattered them into dark space knowing that none of their ships could survive on their own? Even Galactica was dependent on the fleet for fuel and supplies.
He perched his glasses back on his nose and peered at the printout. What now? He had to do something, have some reply; the crew were looking to him to come up with a plan that would give them hope, however irrational. When in doubt, do what you know.
'Mr Gaeta, draw up a search plan, try to cover as much area as you can. We need to find the fleet.'
'Yes sir.' Gaeta saluted and left the room.
Colonel Tigh eased back from the corner he'd been standing in, 'That's a tall order, Bill.'
Adama looked up slowly, 'What else can we do?'
'What if we don't find 'em?'
'Then we go find a planet of our own and start making babies.' Adama felt the determination hardening inside him. 'We are not going to give in; we are not going to let the Cylons break us. We will do this, or we will die trying.'
Tigh nodded, accepting his words at face value. They had been through a lot together, but Saul's simple faith in him still managed to astound him. He didn't feel worthy of it, but in some indefinable way that faith gave him hope that maybe, just maybe, they could pull this off.
Colonel Tigh sat down heavily in the chair opposite, scraping it to the side so he could stretch out his legs. The old wooden desk sat squat between them, a comforting reminder of all the times they'd spent right here, chewing over old memories or just shooting the breeze. Adama eased out of his stiff formality and felt the tension inside him undo a notch. Saul was the only person under his command who had any inkling at all of his personal life - of the divorce, of Zak's death…of Lee's – well, just Lee.
'Is our new Cylon awake yet?' the question took Adama by surprise.
'We don't know he's a Cylon.'
'Aw, C'mon Bill. He shows up in CIC at the same time as a Cylon Base Star, same time as someone just happens to hack into our Nav Computer and plant a virus that sends the whole fleet to frakking gods know where. Seems like a mighty big bunch of coincidences to me.'
'Maybe.' Adama fingered the sheet of paper, staring carefully at the lines of computer code. It didn't seem much, those few marks on the page, but nearly fifty thousand lives hung in the balance because of it.
'Did Baltar make it off Kobol?' he asked suddenly.
'Yeah, he did.'
'Get him to test the new prisoner. I want to know if he really is a Cylon.'
'And if he is?'
'Then he's a Cylon.'
'And if he's not?'
Adama shrugged, 'Well, I guess we figure that one out when we get there.'
'So you're gonna keep him alive?'
'Until I have a reason not to.'
Tigh grunted. Adama knew that if he'd had his way, Saul would probably have airlocked the prisoner three hours ago. But then he'd always been one to think with his fists. Not exactly the statesman.
'And Apollo?'
Adama bristled, 'What about him?'
'It was all for your benefit. You know that.'
'He put a gun to your head, Saul.'
'Yes he did. He ain't the first and he sure as hell won't be the last.' Tigh gave a dry chuckle that began and ended somewhere in the back of his throat, 'C'mon Bill, he was never going to shoot me, he was just trying to get your attention.'
'Well, he got it.' Adama's voice was tight.
'We're up against it, Bill, I don't need to tell you that. He's a good pilot and a good CAG.'
'He's a disgrace to the uniform.'
'Yeah. That too.'
'There's no excusing what he did. Just because he's my son doesn't mean he's above the law, and what he did was mutiny.'
Tigh eased back in his chair, 'None of us are above the law.'
Adama took off his glasses and looked directly at his old friend, 'You think I overreacted.' It was a statement, not a question.
'Now I didn't say that-'
'But you thought it,'
'Just, hell, it crossed my mind what you would have done if some other pilot had gone to Caprica with that Cylon Raider. If it hadn't been Starbuck…'
'Laura Roslin is dangerous. She's a poison on my ship. And it isn't just Starbuck. Now she's turned Lee against me.'
'Like I said, looked to me like it was you he was talking to, not her.'
Adama was quiet for a moment. It was rare for Saul to come out with something like this, he usually stayed well clear of any sort of political or philosophical debate. And he never second guessed his decisions.
'He said I had no right to throw away democracy simply because the President made a bad decision.' Adama said it half to himself.
Tigh gave an amused snort, 'Well, she made a bad decision alright, I'll give her that. She went up against you and lost. Look, who cares about the law now? The fleet is gone; our backs are against the wall. What the frak does it matter now anyway?'
Adama smiled grimly. Saul was right. What did it matter? The most important thing was their survival, not worrying about who was right or wrong. But then, if they just threw away the rules, what would they be left with? They'd turn into a bunch of lawless bandits, and the civilization they represented would really be gone. Gods, he thought with a start, he was beginning to sound like Lee now. But whichever way he looked at it Lee was wrong; he couldn't just break the rules, even if he did it because he thought he was saving them. It didn't work that way. Lee had disobeyed a direct order and threatened his XO with a firearm. If they were to survive, they needed to hold onto the discipline of a fighting unit. Now, more than ever, the chain of command had to remain solid and true. And as the Commander he had to know that his crew would obey him. Lee had to be punished - but more than that, he had to be seen to be punished. Mutiny in a time of war was a court martial offence. But then, what was he going to do, execute his own son? No way. Apart from anything else, their race was in tatters; there were so few of them left that it made no sense for them to start killing their own. If they went down that road then they wouldn't need the frakking Cylons. Maybe Saul was right - the rules should go. Some of them, anyway. This was his ship, his command, his crew. It was his call. Maybe the way forward was to keep the rules that worked for their survival and forget the rest.
Saul had kept quiet, waiting for him to figure it all out.
'Is Lee back yet?' Adama finally asked.
'No, they got the survey team out but there was no sign of Boomer or Racetrack. Apollo took a Raptor down to the surface for another pass.' Adama felt a rush of pride. Saul was right; Lee was a good CAG, and a good officer. He gave that bit extra for the people under his command, and the crew respected him - not just because he was the commander's son, but in spite of it.
'When he gets back tell him to report to the Brig. He'll be sharing the cells with Laura Roslin.' At least the crew would see he was being punished. It was only a gesture, but it would do for now.
'With Roslin?' Tigh raised an eyebrow, 'Thought you said the woman was poison?'
'She is. But he's made his bed...'
Tigh smiled and shook his head, 'I'm damn glad I never had any kids,' he scuffed back the chair as he stood up and headed for the door.
Adama didn't look up as the hatch door closed, leaving him alone in his quarters. He held the thin sheet of paper between his fingers. Just those few lines of computer code represented the antithesis of everything he believed in, everything he stood for. Whoever had planted this thing on his ship was probably walking around right now undetected, blending in as one of his crew. It could be anyone, any of his CIC staff – Dee, Gaeta, or maybe one of the pilots, the deckhands, or the marines…all of them had sworn an oath to protect and serve the fleet, and he knew each one of them by face, if not by name. The betrayal felt personal. It was one thing for the Cylons to destroy his home world, to try and wipe out every member of his race - that was horrific on a huge scale - but it still stayed out there, beyond him in some way. But this, this enemy within, this felt like a personal violation, a dirty act of betrayal.
Now all his relationships were suspect. Adama was proud of the trust he placed in his crew, but now that trust itself had to be held in suspicion. Now no one could be left to just carry out their orders; everyone had to be watched. And that was no way to run a Battlestar.
He shook his head, and put the sheet of paper down carefully to one side. He wouldn't let the Cylons destroy their trust in each other. He wouldn't let them spread their poison from within.
He took the lid off his pen and started leafing through the rest of the paperwork. On the desk in front of him was the photo of him as a young pilot with his two sons smiling at the camera. It was now two years since Zak had died. It seemed like no time at all. There were moments when he still felt the grief as fresh and raw as the day it had happened. Maybe this was the sort of pain that never went away. He wondered what Zak would have done. Would he have sided with Roslin? No, it was Lee who had high aspirations and high ideals, Lee who was the dreamer, Lee who, ironically, made the better viper pilot. Which was why Zak was dead and Lee wasn't. But now it looked like all his high ideals were going to undo him as well.
This wasn't the way he thought it would go. It had been bad enough when Starbuck had confessed to putting Zak in a viper when she should have failed him for basic flight. When she'd told him that he'd felt like strangling her. She should have failed him for basic flight. But then was it really her fault? He'd pulled so many strings and called in so many favors to even get Zak into flight school that perhaps Lee was right and he was to blame. It certainly felt like it. His blame. His burden. His grief. His son. But in the end Zak was dead because he hadn't made the grade. And if Starbuck had failed Zak for basic flight, he'd be alive today. But her emotions blinded her. That's what she'd said.
And now he had Laura Roslin in the Brig. If he was being brutally honest with himself he had to admit that he wasn't quite sure why. When he'd taken down the presidency he'd been going with his gut. And sometimes those decisions didn't always come clear straight away. Sometimes it was only afterwards that the pieces fitted together. He knew what Saul Tigh thought about it – he thought he'd made it too personal, that this was about Starbuck. Saul didn't know the half of it. He didn't know the lie about Earth or that Laura Roslin had told Starbuck the truth. But even if he factored in that extra layer of deceit, he still didn't think Laura Roslin was in the Brig because she had told Starbuck he'd lied. And he hadn't locked her up out of guilt or shame when his lie had been found out. He was still comfortable with his decision to pretend he knew about Earth. It had been the right thing to do – it had given them all hope and a sense of purpose, hell it had probably kept them alive up until now. No, it was the feeling of betrayal that stuck in his craw. Roslin had betrayed him and it felt personal. It felt like family. The thought struck him hard. Laura Roslin, family? He realised with a jolt that his feelings for her had crossed a line. He wondered how he hadn't seen it, that imperceptible creep of a relationship from one side of the fence to the other, the crossing of a boundary from the outside to the inside. And with that realization, the thought struck him - what was he going to do, put everyone he cared about in the Brig? Now that he looked at it again, maybe Tigh was right, maybe he had gotten too close to this whole thing.
He made his way quietly to her cell. She was sleeping now. He gestured the guard to leave the room and he stood silently, watching her. Was this woman such a danger to him? She was smart, but he liked that. There had been a time when they'd worked well together. They'd made some tough decisions, and it had felt good to be on the same side. But that was before her religious conversion. How could he let her lead the fleet using odd verses of scripture that she had picked out of the scrolls of Pythia? Maybe the pressure had gotten to her. Over the last few weeks she'd changed. She'd gone from a rational, sane human being to some religious nut. And based on her words and her actions it was clear that she wasn't capable of acting as President anymore - and there was no way he could allow that snake Baltar to take over as Vice President. Better to dissolve the Presidency completely than to let that happen. He realised with a flood of relief that he had made the right decision; it wasn't because of Starbuck, or even because of Roslin. It was for the good of the fleet. He stood for a moment appreciating the clarity he'd come to and realizing that once Apollo saw it he'd understand why he'd taken the action he had. And when Lee came back to him, maybe he'd get at least one part of himself back.
