Lt. Nester Adrastos
Cylon Occupied Virgon
Ninth Day in Captivity

Nester Adrastos might have awoken in a bed but he had slept very little. His mindset was that he was in enemy territory and this produced a healthy dose of paranoia about closing his eyes. Nevertheless he had found them closing of their own accord as the previous day's events caught up with him. His eyes stared upwards and quite blurrily looked at the wooden planks arching above him that formed the roof of the little hut he had assumed was his home/cell in this place.

There was suddenly a fast paced knocking on the door to his left and he realized that this was what had awoken him. He threw the blanket away from him and kicked his legs outwards and over the sides. He stood up and reached for a t-shirt he had been given to throw over the top of him before picking up his trousers. The knocking thundered on the door for what he now presumed was the third time.

"Alright!" he called out. "I'm coming."

He walked barefooted over to the door and turned the handle. As the door opened, he once again found himself face to face with his enemy – the new face of the enemy. It was that of a tall and slender woman with dark blond hair. Under any other circumstances she would have been considered attractive by Nester but given that she was a machine disguised as a person caused bile and resentment to rise up through the Marine Lieutenant's body.

"Good morning," she said pleasantly. It was then he noticed that she was carrying a tray upon which were two covered-over plates, a flask and two small plastic cups. "I brought you breakfast."

"Natalie isn't it?" he asked unsure if this was the Cylon Number Six he had held hostage the day before or whether it was simply another member of her model.

"That's right," she replied smiling. An uncomfortable silence fell over them as Nester was unsure how he should respond to her. He wasn't in the habit of talking to machines except swearing at his car when it broke down. "Well?" she asked after several seconds. "Aren't you going to invite me in? I brought enough for the two of us. I thought we could perhaps have a little chat this morning while we ate."

Nester knew that until he knew more about what he was dealing with then it was better to cooperate and so he stepped aside and she walked in carrying the tray. She placed it down on top of the small chest of drawers next to his bed before she proceeded to pour the contents of the flask into the cups. From the smell that emanated from the cups he identified it as being strong black coffee.

"Do you mind if I sit down?" she asked indicating to the small chair that sat in the corner.

"It's your camp," he stated matter-of-factly.

"That's something of a negative viewpoint. We will have to iron that out of you," she replied as she picked up the chair and carried it over to the drawers that were now acting as a makeshift table for them to have their breakfast.

"Iron it out?" he asked slightly amused at her choice of words. "Is that how you describe indoctrination?"

"Indoctrination is such an aggressive word. I was hoping that in time you would open your heart to our way of life. Come! Eat!"

She removed the covers from the two plates to reveal some chopped Banana on toast with syrup. The sight of it caused Nester's mouth to water. It was his favorite breakfast ever since he was a child and was almost taken aback by the sight of it until he regained control of his senses and concluded that this was part of their goal to 'iron' him out although he couldn't quite figure out how they knew what he liked. Had he revealed it during his interrogation without knowing he had done so and if he had what else might he have let slip?

She seemed determined to stay and eat with him so he walked over to his bed and sat beside the drawer in front of Natalie. The two of them exchanged a deep glance as they faced one another. For her part, Natalie was daring him to take a bite of his breakfast as if she were desperate to prove her good intentions. Nester remained blank in his gaze at her. He saw her as nothing more than a machine and polite conversation over a sweet tasting breakfast was not going to change that.

After a few moments he decided to reach out for the plate she indicated was his. Her hand shot out and intercepted his, holding it over the plate causing Nester's pupils widened in surprise as he sat there unsure of what she was going to do. She gently released her grip and gave him a slightly embarrassed smile before subtly explaining, "I'm sorry. I should have explained that around here we give thanks before eating our meals."

"Give thanks?" he asked.

"Yes, we give thanks to the one true God for providing us with our food."

"I see," he said incredulously as he retracted his hand.

"I doubt it but it's ok. I'm sure you will understand in time." Nester nodded, signaling for her to proceed but he made it clear he would not participate. He would only observe. She accepted the compromise and bowed her head before speaking. "Heavenly father, we thank you for the bounty with which we are about to receive. We ask that you continue to watch over us as we continue to do your work."

She lifted her head and looked at Nester to see how he would respond to the religious display. He looked at her with both a mixture of curiosity and amusement. She picked up her plate and Nester did the same as the two of them once again fell into silence while they ate. Natalie felt that Nester Adrastos was demonstrating extreme levels of rudeness and in truth was a little agitated because of it. Her reasoning dictated that he should be grateful to have been taken out of the custody of the Fives.

"You seem amused by my prayer?" she asked him as they ate the food and drank the coffee.

"I was just thinking about my High School History teacher," he half-explained.

"Did he believe in one God?"

"Hardly! He was a Marine too, during the first Cylon war. He was actually a great influence on my life. He seemed to understand the Centurions a great deal. He told me once that the Centurions would have viewed religion as nothing more than a computer virus because there was next to no evidence to prove it and yet it dictates the way people live. I always found that fascinating and I wonder, as I look at a machine praying, if he was really onto something."

"It shows what he knew," she said quite defensively.

"Oh?"

"The original Centurions were the first ones to believe in the one true God. We don't know what happened to cause it except that God touched them in some way."

The corner of Nester's lip curled upwards. "Or maybe you're God really is a computer virus? Something created by a flawed machine."

Natalie slammed her cup of coffee down onto the chest of drawers. Nester found himself being stared at with a volley of eye daggers. He had clearly touched a nerve and he made a mental note of it for future reference.

"I understand you've been invited to visit Adrian and Megan tonight?" she asked changing the subject subtly.

"Yes," he replied continuing to enjoy his breakfast.

"Well I hope you will be a little more tolerant with them."

"I know my manners," he said finishing the last of his breakfast and as a demonstration he said, "Thank you for breakfast."

"You're welcome," she uttered before starting to pack up what she had brought with her. "Before I go there is just one thing I wished to talk to you about. Now that you have been here for over a day I think it is time we started finding your place within our community. Tomorrow morning a team is being sent out into the nearby wood to gather logs for use in construction and fire wood. I was hoping you would participate. Adrian will be going."

"Hmm, aren't you worried I might try to escape?"

"It wouldn't be in your best interests to escape," she explained. "Why do you think Humans survive so easily here? It's because the Baseship is constantly working to cleanse the ground and the air of radiation and help fight off its effects. You can leave here for a short period of time without succumbing to the radiation but after a few days you would start getting sick without any meds."

"So that's why there's a Baseship buried in the middle of all this?" he asked to which she nodded. "I see. Can I think about it?"

"Of course, Adrian has all the details. You can discuss it with him. Good day to you."

"And you," he said as he watched her walk out leaving him a lot to think about as his second day at the village got started.

Battlestar Hermes
Brig

Maria Tyler sat on the small bunk with her head buried between her knees. Her eyes stung from having cried so hard over the last half hour. The image of Abbott's bulged eyes after she had stabbed him with the broken piece of mirror was burned into her memory and his coughing as he drowned on his own blood echoed in her head incessantly no matter how much she tried to block it out. She had taken a Human life and regardless of the reason she would never be the same again.

The Brig on Hermes was made up of numerous small rooms where the prisoners were kept. Each room had two cells which were monitored by closed circuit television cameras and a single Marine guard. Maria's guard was Corporal Fournier, a rather aggressive looking woman in her mid twenties with dark skin and who spoke with a distinctly Scorpian accent. Whenever Maria looked up at her, Fournier would silently curse the young Tauron with such bitter hatred that it sent Maria's head back down between her knees making her afraid to raise it again. None of them knew the truth. As far as they were concerned Maria was a killer and that was the end of it.

"That's the bitch!" declared Lieutenant Callisto, the officer in command of Hermes' Marine detachment now that Nester Adrastos was presumed killed in action. "Sorry sir."

Commander Bowman stared at the image of the sobbing young woman sitting in the cell as she was portrayed on the screen. The camera was looking down at her from an angle giving a bird's eye view of the cell below. Looking over his shoulder was Major Galit Malka who had heard about the incident as she was about to board her ship and had decided to investigate it for herself.

"She's a killer?" asked Malka disbelievingly.

"Yes ma'am," said Callisto. "She used a broken piece of mirror glass to stab Abbott in the neck."

"Did anyone see this happen?" asked Bowman.

"Private Dashforth, sir."

"He actually saw what happened?" interjected Malka wanting to get clarification. Her question saw Callisto recoil slightly.

"Well, no ma'am. He was too late to intervene."

"I see," said Malka. "So Private Abbott was alone with this woman in the toilet when she killed him? Dashforth was outside?"

"Yes ma'am," said Callisto clenching his teeth in annoyance as he wondered why he was answering questions from the MoI officer and not Bowman.

"What was Abbott doing in there at the time?" she continued.

"Ma'am?" said Callisto raising his right eyebrow in both confusion and increasing annoyance.

"You heard?" she added.

"I would assume he was using the facilities."

Bowman looked away from the screen at Callisto. "You mean you haven't spoken to Dashforth about it?"

"No, sir," said Callisto feeling foolish. "I had heard that Abbott had been attacked and…Well, sir, I guess I just assumed it was a random act of violence against one of our guys. It's happened before. There are a lot of frustrated people crammed in there."

"I see," said Bowman. "Well then in that case we should question Miss Tyler and Private Dashforth immediately."

"I'll take care of Miss Tyler," interjected Malka before adding to Bowman, "Why don't you talk to this Private Dashforth?" Bowman clearly didn't seem to warm to the idea of her questioning someone. He had experienced her interrogating personality before and she saw his concern. "I give you my word I won't lay a finger on her."

"Alright," uttered Bowman somewhat hesitantly.

Maria looked upwards and through the bars of her cell as the hatch leading to the brig opened and a woman appeared wearing grey coveralls with the upper half wrapped around her waist to reveal a white t-shirt underneath. The woman walked up to Corporal Fournier and signaled for her to leave but not before taking the key for Maria's cell. Once she was alone with the woman Maria watched through terrified eyes as she walked up to her cell, opened it and stepped inside.

"Hello," she said to the young Tauron woman. "My name is Galit Malka." Maria didn't answer immediately. The words just wouldn't come out. "It's impolite not to say hello when someone greets you. It's ok. I'm not military. So why don't we start by you telling me your name?"

"M-Maria," she stuttered.

"That's better now isn't it? We can be friends can't we?"

Galit walked into the cell deliberately leaving the door open for her to try and escape. Galit wanted to sum up the type of person she was dealing with and this was part of that effort but Maria just remained there too frightened to move. Galit sat on the bunk opposite her. Maria's bloodshot eyes kept locked on her visitor as she held the top of her knees close to her as if afraid that touching Galit would cause her to burst into flames.

"Wh-What do you want?" asked Maria.

"I just want to talk to you about what happened. That's all," said Galit as softly as she could muster. Maria was hardly forthcoming with information. After a few moments Galit started to reach down into a pocket sown into her coveralls just above the knee. "Do you know what I really like? Aurora bars." Galit pulled out a bar of chocolate wrapped in silver foil. She tore open the top of it and took out the chocolate bar inside before breaking it into two, the caramel inside stretching until finally it broke and hung lazily over the top of Galit's fingers. "This is one of my last ones. Here!"

Maria looked at the piece Galit was offering her. The one thought that dominated the young woman's mind was that it was a trap. One thing she had learned with Armand Lee is that nothing comes for free. Nevertheless, Galit persisted and the offer was now interpreted as an order. With a shaking hand she reached out and took the piece of chocolate. Taking the lead, Galit took a bite of her piece and Maria began to emulate it.

"I love caramel," said Galit wondering how she should proceed. She had seen a lot of killers in her time but this one, on face value at least, didn't fit the usual description. "So, are you going to tell me what happened?"

It was a few seconds before Maria finally plucked up the courage to utter the words, "What does it matter?"

"I would think it matters a lot. You're in here on a murder charge. Last time I checked that was a particularly serious one. Thing is you don't seem like a killer so I want to know what it is that caused you to put a piece of broken mirror into a Marine's neck?"

Both women looked into each other's eyes. As she stared into Galit's eyes, Maria felt her confidence transferred into the young Tauron. She took a deep breath as she began to explain what happened not sure what it would be worth. She told Galit everything.

Battlestar Hermes
Bowman's Office

"So you were on patrol?" Bowman asked Dashforth while sitting behind his desk. Colonel Dytto had joined him in the questioning, Bowman wanting a second opinion on everything the Marine had to say. If there was one thing Dytto was a master at it was giving an opinion.

"Yes sir," said Dashforth who looked as nervous as a new bride as he stood before his CO and XO.

"And as you passed the hatch for the toilet, Abbott decided he needed to use the facilities?"

"Uh…Yes sir," added Dashforth with a hint of hesitation in his voice, something both Bowman and Dytto picked up on.

Dytto stared intensely at the Marine as he asked, "Did either of you know Maria Tyler was inside at the time?" Dashforth eyes passed from Bowman to Dytto before back to Bowman again. "Well?"

"Yes sir," said Dashforth. "We saw her go in as we approached."

"Did she see you first?" asked Bowman who was exploring the possibility that Maria's attack was premeditated.

"Uh, no sir. I don't think so."

"So then what happened?"

"Sir, we uh, I mean Abbott wanted to use the toilet and I waited outside for him. The next thing I knew I could hear screaming and I went in and found Abbott on the floor covered in blood."

Bowman and Dytto shared a glance. Both of them were suspicious of the Marine's story because of the seemingly vague detail that was coming from him.

"Who did you hear scream?" asked Dytto.

"It was Tyler's voice I heard screaming," replied the Marine somewhat nervously.

"Tyler, not Abbott?" added Bowman looking for clarification. "Did you hear Abbott make any sound at all after he went in?"

"No sir."

"Is there anything you would like to add to your story?" asked Dytto getting to his feet thus putting the Marine firmly on the defensive. Dashforth looked at both Bowman and Dytto with eyes that seemed to plead for help. He was clearly a man in a frightened daze and as he felt their eyes on him he likened this whole thing to one of those cheesy Caprica City police TV shows where there's a good cop and a bad cop. Dytto was obviously playing the bad cop and with that mentality it was Bowman he felt would be his lifeline in this.

"Well?" asked the Hermes CO. Bowman could sense what part of Dashforth's story was a lie or at least skipped over. "Private, did Abbott go in to the 'head' because Maria Tyler was inside?" Dashforth's face said all Bowman needed to know. "Why?"

"Answer the question!" boomed Dytto when the Marine hesitated.

"He, uh…He was sleeping with her. Had slept with her and he wanted to get some time alone with her."

"Did she consent to it?" asked Bowman afraid of the answer.

"As far as I know, sir, yes."

"Are you frakking sure about that?" uttered Dytto through gritted teeth.

"Yes sir I swear!" blurted the now terrified Marine. For his part Dashforth had never even contemplated the possibility that Abbott had forced Maria Tyler into having sex with him. He had no reason to question the integrity of his friend.

"Is there anything else?" added Bowman compassionately in an effort to get the last bit of information out of him. "Anything at all?"

"No sir," said Dashforth truthfully.

"Very well," said Bowman. "You're dismissed?"

Dashforth stood firmly to attention before saluting and then making his way towards the hatch. As the metal door slammed shut behind the Marine, Bowman turned to Dytto and asked, "Well?"

Dytto seemed to stare blankly into the corner of the room as he replied, "I'll tell you this; my mind is in a dark place right now."

"I know what you mean. We have no evidence that anything untoward happened on the part of Abbott. Let's try and keep an open mind until we know more. Galit should be finishing up with Maria Tyler any minute now."

"Do you really think that one of our Marines behaved inappropriately down there?" asked Dytto almost having to dare himself to do so.

Bowman sighed before answering. "A month and a half ago; no! Definitely not. But let's be honest here for a minute. Our people are only human and a frakking lot has happened since then. Who knows how it's affected certain people. We've all changed since the bombing of the colonies. Anyone who thinks otherwise is just kidding themselves."

"If a Marine has…" Dytto had to swallow before he finished his sentence. "Raped a civvy down there then there's going to be a backlash. Even after all this time they still hate the military for what the Pegasus did to their ships."

"Can you blame them?"

"No, of course not but this is Hermes not Pegasus. I'd like to think we've gone a long way to earning their trust by now but this could just blow it all apart."

Dytto's words stung Bowman who felt the weight of the ship come crashing down on top of him. He was therefore half-grateful when they were interrupted by a knocking on the hatch. Half-grateful because he feared who it might be and what news she would have for him.

His fears were confirmed when Galit Malka appeared at the hatch. She closed it behind her and walked up to them. Both Bowman and Dytto sat quietly as they listened to Galit tell them what they had already concluded from their talk with Dashforth. It made both Bowman and Dytto sick to know that one of their Marines had acted so disgracefully. One thing was left out of Galit's report however; Armad Lee. She had decided to keep that little detail to herself and had instructed Maria Tyler to do the same although she didn't explain why.

"So," she said addressing the two of them. "What are you going to do with Miss Tyler?"

"I don't know yet," said Bowman staring at his right hand which was slowly tapping on the end of his knee. "If this was peacetime the Admiralty would decide whether or not charges should be brought. The self defence laws vary too much from colony to colony to have a set guideline I can follow."

"On Gemenon it's legal to do whatever is necessary to protect yourself," said Dytto as vaguely as the law he was quoting from his own colony.

"But on Caprica the law only permits equal force to that of the threat," added Bowman.

Galit threw up her right hand to intervene in the growing philosophical debate. "I think we should clarify a point here. There is no Admiralty or civilian government to fall back on for support. There's just us. This happened on your ship, 'Ace'. You have the final word. The question is can she be reintroduced to the civilian population after she has taken the life of a Marine regardless of how justified the act was? It's completely possible that now she has killed once it might be easier for her to do it again with less stimuli to provoke her."

"You think she might do it again?" asked Dytto.

"There's always a chance," replied Galit.

"Then what do you propose?" interjected Bowman. "We eliminate her? Is that where you're going with this?"

"It's always an option," she quipped with a twisted smile of amusement. Neither Bowman or Dytto shared in her joke. As her amusement faded she spoke up again. "I have a proposal on the matter."

"I'm listening," said Bowman.

"Keep her in the brig for the time being. When this mission is over you can transfer her to the Eurylade and I will help rehabilitate her as best I can."

"How?" asked Dytto but it was Bowman who answered him.

"The Major holds a degree in Psychology," he explained to his XO.

"I suppose I should put it to use," she added. "There's one more thing; she has a younger brother in 'the slum'. I think we should get him out of there while she is in custody. If anything were to happen to him then we could probably kiss any chance of her recovery good bye."

Bowman agreed. "I'll have Lieutenant Callisto go and get him."

"Actually," said Galit. "I was thinking maybe we should go and get him. It might be a good idea if we take a look down there for ourselves. Get a feel for what's going on. What do you say?"

Bowman thought about it for a moment. Part of him had deliberately ignored 'the slum' since the three thousand civilians were crammed in there. He tried to justify it by telling himself that his duty lay in keeping the ship safe and therefore he was looking out for the civilians by default.

But deep down he knew the truth. He didn't want them on his ship. They were something he had inherited from the death of human civilization at the hands of the Cylons and as an officer and Commander in the Colonial Fleet it was his duty to safeguard them made all the more important by the actions of the crew of the Battlestar Pegasus. Having to face the fact that he had practically forgotten about the people down there over the past month was not a pleasant prospect but he knew Galit was trying to make a point with him and so he agreed.

Battlestar Hermes
'The Slum'

As the hatchway opened, Bowman became overwhelmed by a damp stench from the compartment inside. He saw that everyone in the immediate vicinity of the entrance was looking at him and he made a physical effort not to reach up to pinch his nose. It took a few moments for his nostrils to acclimatize to it but once he breathed it in a few times the edge was taken off and it became bearable.

With Callisto on point, Bowman and Galit stepped inside and began to make their way to the space where Maria Tyler was listed as occupying with her brother. Records were made of where people were billeted when they came aboard Hermes but these records were seldom updated as people moved about either of their own accord or because they had been forced out by others. Efforts to keep track of people inside 'The Slum' were made all the more difficult by the veil of silence the people inside had put up regarding the military.

Now that he was inside what was once referred to as the Marine Barrack Section Bowman no longer recognized his ship. It was as if he had stepped off Hermes and onto some rundown old freighter that had been turned into a refugee ship. There was nothing to indicate that he was on anything as magnificent as a Battlestar anymore. Even the metal in the bulkheads seemed different somehow.

The three of them made their way up one flight of stairs to the level above passing several people who sat on the steps. Some were rocking back and fore out of overwhelming boredom while some were silent as they stared at the strangers with eyes that looked black and empty as if the soul of their owners had somehow bled out of an open wound. No matter where they were in this metal hell they could hear cries or sobs. Mostly they were from the old or the very young, the most vulnerable of those who called this place 'home'.

Walking down a corridor as they neared their destination Bowman saw two children, a boy and a girl, no older than ten years old huddled up playing with a toy car that lacked any of its plastic wheels. At the sight of the Marine Lieutenant and the uniform of the Battlestar Commander, they got up and ran away with a look of fear that stabbed Bowman deeply in the heart. It caused him to rethink how he viewed the uniform he cherished so much. For him it had always been a sign of strength and honor but above all a force to protect the people. Now the people were terrified of it. This was the legacy Admiral Helena Cain had left for the Battlestar Hermes and it had now been made worse by the actions of one dishonorable Marine.

"This should be it, sir," said Callisto as they stopped outside the entrance to one of the many bunkrooms, the serial number above the door matching the details that Callisto had down in his files.

Bowman looked in and found yet more groups of people huddled together. Some looked on at Bowman and Galit with curiosity while others were completely indifferent. It was as his eyes fell to the left that he found a small object completely wrapped up in a blanket that sat on one of the bunks. It moved slightly, almost as if it twitched before giving out a small cough. With Galit watching, Bowman walked over to the bunk until he was standing next to it. Reaching out, he very carefully began to unwrap the blanket that was intertwined over the object underneath that had twitched and coughed. As the last fold was undone there lay in front of the Commander a small boy curled up into a ball with dark stains under his eyes from where he had been crying so hard.

"Hello," said Bowman gently. The boy didn't respond. He just stared up at Bowman refusing to speak. "I bet you're Maria's brother aren't you? Huh? It's ok. I'm not going to hurt you. She's very worried about you. Would you like me to take you to her?"

Bowman reached out for the boy which caused him to recoil away like he was being threatened with a knife. Galit quickly intervened. She reached out and tapped Bowman's arms signaling for him to lower them.

"Why don't you come with me?" she said pleasantly to the small boy cowering silently in the corner of the bunk that was his and his sister's home. The boy looked at her in her grey coveralls. Although she had military insignia on them they were unfamiliar to the young boy whose eyes kept darting from left to right at the strangers who had come for him. "Come on, let's go see Maria." She held out her hand and waited for him to take it. Rather nervously he began to reach out. The young boy's fingers began to graze the palm of her hand as he experimented with how she would react to him. When he saw that it wasn't some sort of trick he allowed her to reach out and pick him up.

With the small boy clinging to Galit she turned around and began to walk out with him. It was a sight Bowman had never expected to ever see. Galit was one of the last people he ever expected to have paternal instincts. Before he followed he looked back at the people crammed inside. The image of their dirty faces and clothes was being etched into his mind and he was going to carry it with him as he left them.

Faststar Eurylade
Galit Malka's Quarters

Keene Barron sat in the chair opposite Galit's bunk inside her cramped quarters aboard the Eurylade, his eyes staring at his left hand slumped onto the table gently tapping an inconsistent tune while Galit herself sat on her bunk with her back against the wall. She had called him here for an update on how the work with the FTL was progressing but instead found herself just wanting his company for a bit. The two of them had been close friends as well as comrades for a long time.

She had only just finished explaining what she had saw in 'the slum' aboard Hermes but Keene's response was largely one of indifference. It was not that he didn't care about people suffering but rather he was stuck in his own circle of both self-pity and loathing. Galit had identified the cause of these feelings quite soon after the bombing of the colonies as survivor's guilt. He hated himself for being alive when those important to him were dead. He still continued to carry out his duties aboard the Eurylade but he was not the man Galit once knew.

"How long until the FTL from the Alexis is ready to install?" she asked him after a rather long silence.

"Bowman's people are still making the modifications needed to make it compatible with our systems," he murmured. "I'd say the earliest we're looking at is first thing tomorrow."

"Good."

"So are you still agreeing to take Bowman and his team along with us?" he asked tearing his gaze away from his hand finally.

"I don't see us having much of a choice, do you?" said Galit. "Bowman holds all the cards in this game. He has the FTL we need to complete our mission."

"What happens when we get to the station and he sees what Division 731 were really developing forty years ago?"

"By then it will be too late for him to do anything about it. We have to play Artimus Bowman the right way on this if we are to succeed. 'Ace' is the type of guy that the harder you push him the harder he pushes back. We have to guide him in gently. Don't you worry about Bowman; I'll take care of him. This thing with the civvies on his ship is a big help. He's going to be so wound up with himself for letting things get so bad there that he will be distracted and that will buy us the time we need to get the work on the FTL done."

"Are you ok with this?" asked Keene. "Manipulating Bowman I mean?"

"That's a rather insidious way to describe it," she quipped.

"You know what I mean," he asked while suddenly noticing that Galit's forehead was glistening in the light.

"Don't worry about me. I'm committed to our mission over everything else," she explained. She saw him staring at her strangely which caused her to ask, "What?"

"Are you sure you're ok? You're sweating a lot."

Galit reached up and touched her forehead feeling the cold, thin veneer of water that sat across her skin under her hairline. She looked at the perspiration on her fingers and knew immediately what it meant.

"I'm tired," she said to him hinting that she wished him to leave her alone.

"Ok," he replied getting the hint. "I'll see you later." He stood up but felt compelled to ask her one more time, "Are you sure you're ok? Do want me to call the Doctor over from Hermes or something?"

"No, Keene," she said smiling understandably. "It's fine. Honest. Just fatigue."

Keene just nodded knowing well enough that when she makes her mind up about something there's no changing it. He left her alone in the room signaled by the shutting of the door. Once he was gone she stood up and pushed across the small latch on the now closed door sealing her inside before walking over to the small safe that sat in the wall beside her bunk. She entered in the six digit code and the safe beeped followed by a loud clunking sound.

Having pulled the thick steel door open she reached inside and took out a small box before carrying it over to her bunk where she sat down. She unbuckled the belt around her coveralls and placed it down on the bunk next to the box. She slowly began peeling the coveralls away from her body noticing that she was now sweating profusely from head to toe. That was to be expected. It had been over eighty hours since the last time she had done this when it was only supposed to be about seventy two hours at most.

Standing in her tank top and underwear she opened the box to reveal a collection of thin medical syringes and a small bottle of clear liquid. She picked up the bottle and a clean syringe before taking the plastic cover off the top of the needle and placing it in the self sealing rubber cap of the bottle. She pulled the plunger of the syringe back until the tube was filled with thirty milliliters of the transparent liquid. She tapped out any air bubbles that were inside before gently placing the bottle and the box on the table opposite.

She took the full syringe with her back to the bunk and picked up her belt as she sat down. Placing the syringe down on her bunk with the needle hanging over the side to avoid anything touching it she took the belt and fastened it around her left arm. As she tightened it the veins began to bulge out of her skin. She placed the end of the belt in her mouth to hold it steady on her arm while she reached over with her left hand and picked up the syringe.

In one quick move she stabbed the end of the needle into a vein bulging from the inner crease of her arm before pushing down on the plunger. The liquid squirted into her bloodstream and she could feel the effects almost immediately. She began shaking and the needle dropped from her hand onto the floor. She released the belt from the hold of her teeth and the leather strap loosened from her arm as she began to drop to the side trying desperately to get comfortable as quick as she could before the drug took complete hold of her. She knew she was over eight hours late taking it and as such it would be a big hit on her system.

Her head hit the pillow as her vision blurred. Her temperature seemed to sore as her skin began to feel like she was on fire. She tried to scream or even just move but she couldn't. She had lost all physical control of her body and she was forced to lay there and silently suffer from the effects of the injection that she had to take every three days without fail.

The alternative was that she would die. Sometimes she wondered if that was preferable.