Tom was getting restless. He tapped his feet, threw a Pyramid ball at the wall, and paced back and forth. He eventually poked his head out the door of his room, and saw that the shelter was empty except for Samuel Anders, who was sitting on a bench staring morosely at the floor.
He walked up to him, unsure if he would be welcome. He sat down beside the younger man, watching for a reaction. Anders stared straight ahead, ignoring him. He was humming softly.
Tom cleared his throat. "We're going to get her back, Mr. Anders," he said. His voice echoed around the empty shelter.
Anders continued to hum, staring into the distance.
"I know it's been two days," he said, a bit more loudly. "But Sarah is making a plan to rescue Kara. She's very resourceful, you know. Even if they've captured her, I'm fairly certain that she will be able to…"
Anders finally looked at him. Tom noticed that his eyes were very blue.
"Are you trying to convince me?" he asked. "Or yourself?"
Tom smiled sadly. "Both, I'm afraid."
Anders stared at him, and for a moment he looked hopeful. "Do you really think that they're still alive? Sarah and my wife?"
Tom nodded. "Yes, I do."
Anders put his head in his hands. "I wish I shared your confidence. They're probably both dead, you know."
"Yes, I realize that," Tom responded.
Anders laughed harshly. "Then why? Why bother hoping that they're still alive?"
"Because I have to," Tom said simply.
Anders looked at him as if he had never seen him clearly before. Then he stood up and started pacing the room, humming again. Tom stared at the ground.
"There must be some way out of here," Anders said abruptly.
Tom looked up, surprised. "What are you talking about?"
"There is a joker and a thief. The joker is talking to the thief." Anders was looking vaguely feverish, sweat beading on his forehead. "Too much confusion," he whispered.
"Mr. Anders, are you all right?" Tom asked, concerned.
"There must be some way out of here. Off this planet," Anders continued. "My people can't get any relief. They'll all be murdered, eventually."
"I'm getting you a glass of water," Tom said firmly. Anders ignored him, and sat back down on the bench with an ungainly thump.
"Oh, gods," he whispered. "Judgment Day. All of this has happened before, and all of this will happen again. We're all going to die."
Tom stared at him, feeling a sense of dread that he couldn't quite place. Anders was looking at him, those very blue eyes locked with his.
For a moment, Tom thought he saw a flash of red.
********
Sarah was chained to the wall. She recognized the cell she was in; it was used to store prisoners that were considered high-risk. Many people had sat on this very spot on the floor. However, none of them were Cylons, she thought wryly.
She was very uncomfortable. The floor was hard, and the chains were beginning to cut into the tender flesh on her wrists. She was freezing, and they hadn't brought her any food. Cavil was probably trying to starve her into submission.
However, none of this really bothered her. She could stand the hunger, the chains, the cell, even the almost certain sentence of death. It was her own stupidity that really bothered her. She couldn't believe that she had been so foolish. Leoben might have been fond of her, but he would never have chosen his loyalty to her over his loyalty to the collective. He must have called Cavil when he went to get the tea.
She wondered what they were going to do with her. Cavil would most likely want to make an example of her. Strangely, the thought did not inspire fear in her heart the way it would have a few months ago. She was not afraid of him, of death. She was not afraid anymore.
"Yes, that's right, Sarah," whispered Six. "You have stepped out of their shadow, in order to find your own destiny. And it is a very special destiny indeed."
The door slammed open, and Six was gone. Cavil stood in the doorway, an expression of grim satisfaction on his face.
"Hello, Sarah," he said.
Sarah stared at him coldly. "Cavil. It's been a while since we've talked."
His eyes narrowed. "Yes, it has. You must be happy to be back among your own kind. Do you find your accommodations satisfactory?" His voice was laced with sarcasm.
Sarah gave him her sweetest smile. "Of course. Although, I have to admit I find the chains a bit cumbersome."
He laughed unpleasantly. "I'm sorry about that. But, you have to understand, you're a high-risk prisoner. We couldn't risk you getting into any trouble."
"So I see," she said
He gave her a predatory smile, and then began to walk towards her at a lazy pace. She met his eyes, refusing to look away.
"Sarah, I hope you understand that this is nothing personal. You've created a problem for us, and it's my job to fix it." Cavil was now standing above her. She craned her neck to look up at him.
"So I hope you understand," he continued, "That whatever pain I inflict on you will give me no pleasure."
He was lying, and he wasn't even bothering to hide it. She gave him a skeptical look.
"On the contrary, I think you will enjoy this very much," she said.
Cavil looked wounded. "Well, Sarah, how could you think that I would enjoy causing you pain? You know that I deplore Cylon on Cylon violence." He grinned, as if an idea had occurred to him. "However, Cylon on Centurion violence is even worse. I wonder who first committed that despicable act." He paused for dramatic impact. "Oh, of course, it was you. I wonder how the Centurions feel about that."
At his words, a Centurion appeared in the doorway, all metal and flashing red eyes. Sarah felt her mouth go dry.
"I'll make this quick," said Cavil. "You will sign a statement indicating your status as a traitor to your race and to the settlement of New Caprica. You will read this statement out loud in the town square to an audience of both humans and Cylons, and publicly repent. After this, you will be executed by firing squad. Any questions?"
Sarah listened numbly. She felt Six by her side, stroking her hair. "You're going to be all right, Sarah. Fight back."
Sarah looked up at Cavil. "And what if I refuse?" she asked.
He sighed dramatically. "I was afraid you would say that." He motioned for the Centurion to come forward. It did, flexing its metal claws.
"Courage, Sarah," whispered Six.
"This Centurion is very upset at your actions," Cavil said. "You see, you murdered it and several other of its comrades. You can imagine how it felt when it was resurrected."
The Centurion's eyes flashed, as if in rage or sadness; Sarah couldn't tell.
"It wants revenge, and if you disobey me, it will receive justice. If you reconsider, then you can have a quiet little death, or as quiet as can be relatively expected of a traitor."
"I won't sign that statement," Sarah said quietly.
"All right, then," Cavil said. He looked delighted. "This Centurion is going to take its claws and disfigure that pretty face of yours beyond recognition. And if after that you still persist in this foolishness, I'll give it permission to move on to your eyes." He laughed. "But trust me, dear; you don't want to get to that point."
He moved towards the door. "I'd stay, but I have more important things to do. The Centurion will call me when it's finished with you."
Sarah was trembling. "You're sick," she spat out. "You're a sadist."
Cavil stopped at the doorway and turned to look at her. "There's no way I could be a sadist, Sarah. Sadists are motivated by their own emotions. I don't have emotions; I'm just a machine." He put his hat on. "Have fun with your little metal friend. And remember to play safe." He turned and walked out the door.
As Cavil closed the door, the Centurion walked towards her, that red eye still flashing in its skull. Six walked behind it, examining it as if it were an interesting display at a museum.
"It has a weak spot," she announced. "Go for the head." On seeing Sarah's stricken expression, she smiled reassuringly. "You're strong, Sarah. Do not doubt God, and he will not betray you."
The adrenaline coursed through Sarah's body as the Centurion got closer. She needed to get her hands free. She twisted and turned her wrists, but the cuffs were too tight.
The Centurion lunged at her. She screamed and kicked wildly. The heel of her shoe made contact with metal, and the Centurion went flying backwards, landing on the ground a few feet away. It got to its feet, the red eye flashing. Sarah could have sworn that it looked angry.
Sarah crawled forward as far as the chains would allow. The Centurion's claw sliced through the air, and Sarah moved to the side, but not soon enough. The claw made a gash in her shoulder, and Sarah screamed in agony as the blood poured down her shirt and neck.
The Centurion stood over her. She kicked again, this time deliberately. Her foot landed against the Centurion's breastplate, with seemingly no effect. The Centurion lifted the claw again to strike.
"You are the shape of things to come. Strike back and you will not be hurt."
Sarah looked for Six, but she was gone. The Centurion struck again, but Sarah moved quickly this time, feinting to the right and then lunging at it, throwing her chained arms over its foot.
The chain wrapped around, and Sarah gave it a strong yank, bringing the Centurion to the floor with a crash. The Centurion swerved around, but she was too fast, crawling on her hands and knees over to the Centurion's top half.
Go for the head. Sarah looked down at the blinking red eye, and hesitated for a moment. Then she steeled herself and brought the cuffs down on the head as hard as she could. Metal met against metal. She smashed the Centurion again and again, until warm blood ran down her wrists and hands.
"That's enough, Sarah. It's dead." Six stood above her, looking satisfied. Sarah nodded and leaned against the wall, suddenly exhausted. She realized how much she was bleeding. Her entire shirt was soaked with blood, as were her sleeves. Her ankle throbbed, and she realized that the Centurion must have fallen on it.
"You have to get out of here. Cavil will be back any moment."
Sarah nodded, and attempted to get to her feet, only to find that she was still chained to the body of the Centurion. Six walked towards her and gently rolled back her sleeves.
"This may hurt a little."
Six took hold of the cuffs and pulled. Sarah screamed. Her experiences with the Centurion had in no way prepared her for this. She felt the bones in her hand dislocate with a pop as the cuffs slid off. Her bones were on fire; for a moment, she wanted to die.
The initial agony soon numbed into a throbbing pain. She held up her broken fingers, and Six smiled sympathetically, but spoke firmly:
"Cottle will take care of you once you get back to the Resistance. You need to move." Sarah nodded obediently and stood up shakily.
The door was unlocked. She somehow managed to turn the doorknob with her fingers while gritting her teeth in pain. She stumbled out into the dark hallway, feeling her way around.
Her ankle dragged behind her uselessly. She suddenly felt very weak; she was losing blood. With a grunt, she fell against the wall and slid to the ground.
Get up, Sarah.
I'm tired. I want to rest.
If you lie here, they'll find you and take you back to your cell to torture you some more. Then they'll kill you.
I want to die.
No, you don't. If you die before your time, the world will fall into chaos. Judgment Day would be upon us all. We would all perish: humans and Cylons alike. You have a very strong will to live, Sarah. Get up.
No.
Don't make me angry. You wouldn't like me when I'm angry.
You said before my time. What does that mean, exactly? Am I supposed to die?
If it is God's will.
Is it part of the plan that I should die? Answer me!
Don't talk about things you don't understand. Now, I'm telling you to get up.
Sarah woke with a start. She was slumped against the wall, as if she had been asleep. But it seemed that no time had passed. The Six in red leaned against the wall, glaring down at her.
"Get up," she said.
Sarah nodded, and with difficulty got to her feet. Six stood beside her, guiding her towards the door. They found it at the end of the hallway. Sarah looked back for one more glance, but she was gone.
Sarah squared her shoulders and limped ahead, heading into the cold night.