Battlestar Galactica 2003 is a copyright of the Sci Fi Channel. Battlestar Galactica is a trademark and copyright of Universal Studios. Ron Moore re-imagined Glen A. Larson's original idea; but then again, most people who would be reading this already know that. My use is in no way intended to challenge or infringe upon any established copyrights. This piece is not intended for any profit on the part of the writer, nor is it meant to detract from the commercial viability of the aforementioned or any other copyright. Any similarity to any events or persons, either real or fictional, is unintended.
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Author's Note: Thanks again to Elentari2 for her time and effort as a beta reader.
And okay, fine… Season 3 started, and I'm not done. In fact, I'm not even close to done. The frickin' story keeps getting longer and longer. It doesn't feel pity… or remorse… or fear. And it absolutely will not stop. Ever. (And if you think this chapter is long, wait until you see Chapter 13, which may soon be known as Chapter 13 and 14.)
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XII – Comrades in Arms"Why?" Apollo asked, peering over his cards at Ares' face.
"Why what?" Ares asked in reply.
"Why did you leave?" Apollo said. "Why did you come back?"
"And why does it take so long for you to decide whether you're in or out?" Starbuck added, gesturing toward the pile of cubits in the middle of the table.
"I left because I was afraid," Ares told Apollo, just as he grabbed a few cubits and added them to the pot. "I call," he told Starbuck.
"Frak," she muttered.
"Don't try to bluff a god," he chastised with a grin.
"You were afraid?" Starbuck asked, ignoring the fact that she was almost broke. Not that I'll likely be alive much longer to enjoy my newfound poverty. "I didn't know gods got afraid."
"I'm not really a god, you know," he shrugged. "At least, I hope you know. Sure, my people may have seemed like gods to the first humans we brought to Kobol, but we weren't gods. It's like humans with pets – your dog may see you as a god, but it doesn't mean you actually are."
"Still, what could scare you?" Starbuck pressed. "You're immortal."
"I don't age, but that doesn't mean I'm immortal," Ares corrected. "My people can die, whether from illness or injury. Or suicide," he added, suddenly becoming visibly depressed.
"Like Athena," Apollo said.
"Yeah." Ares took a long swallow of beer, noticed that the primary activity seemed to have shifted from cards to storytelling, and then leaned back in his chair, as if he knew there were dozens of questions that Lee and Kara wanted answered. "But that's a long story," he explained, "and not one I really want to tell."
"So what will you tell?" Kara asked.
"What would you like to know?" Ares replied.
"Earth," Kara said immediately, without even thinking. I believed in it for all that time after the Old Man said it existed, and then I doubted. Then, during our briefing, Ares passed up the chance to say that humanity would be extinct if we failed in our attack, which might mean that he knows of more of us somewhere. Ares would know for sure if Earth is really out there. He'd have to. "Does Earth exist?"
"Yes," Ares said with a knowing smirk. "Oh yes, Earth exists."
"And?" Lee said.
"And what?" Ares responded. "She only asked if it exists."
"Where is it?" Lee asked.
"I won't tell you that," Ares told them. "I can't. That was part of the deal."
"What deal?" Kara asked.
"I can't tell you that, either," Ares responded, taking a long swig of beer.
"You're an ass," Kara replied, taking a few salted nuts out of a dish and throwing them at Ares. "Is there anything you can tell us?"
"I can tell you a lot, actually," Ares said. "For instance, how would you like to talk religion?"
"Gee, that sounds fun," Kara griped.
"Well, what's the one thing everyone points to as evidence that the gods created man?" Ares asked them, standing up and gazing down at the pair with mirth in his eyes.
"Huh?" they both asked simultaneously.
"Come on, this is easy," he said. "Priests and scientists, everyone sorta believes the gods created man because of one major thing."
"We didn't evolve," Lee responded. As soon as he said the words, Kara kicked herself for having forgotten that rather important and obvious point.
"Yeah," she added, "we can show that every species on every Colony – and that we brought from Kobol – evolved from something that came before. Every species except for us, anyway."
"Yes, but life here began out there," Ares countered, quoting from the Sacred Scrolls. "Remember, that passage was written when humanity was still on Kobol."
"So?" Kara asked.
"It isn't that humanity didn't evolve, it's just that you didn't know where the starting point was," Ares explained. "And how about this – have neither of you sat down to think about what you saw at the Tomb of Athena?"
"What do you mean?" Kara replied, though as she spoke, she was silently wondering just when, exactly, Ares thought either she or Lee would have had time to sit down and think about anything that didn't have to do with their jobs.
"You saw the symbols in the Tomb, all of them from the nighttime sky as it appears from Earth," Ares told her. "It was a message – a map – telling you where to find the members of the Thirteenth Tribe."
"We already know that," Kara told him.
"Yeah, but Kobol was devastated by wars shortly before humanity left; and after you left, none of you went back," Ares said. "So who do you think prepared the Tomb?"
"Huh?"
"According to the Sacred Scrolls, after leaving Kobol, the Thirteenth Tribe went to Earth." Ares looked from Apollo to Kara, making certain they were both following his line of reasoning.
"Right," Kara said, nodding slowly.
"But from what you saw at Athena's Tomb, that'd mean that after reaching Earth, the Thirteenth Tribe drew pictures of the nighttime sky, went back to Kobol, set up the Tomb, only to hop back on their ships and return to Earth again," Ares said with a chuckle. "Does that make any kind of sense?"
"I never really thought about it that way," Starbuck admitted.
"And there's something else even more obvious if you think about what the Sacred Scrolls tell you," Ares continued. "The Twelve Tribes that became the Colonies left Kobol first, and the Thirteenth Tribe left shortly thereafter. But remember what you saw in the Tomb – President Roslin recognized the patterns as the symbols that were on the flags of the Colonies back when they were known by their ancient names. Everyone who knows their history knows that those flags were assumed to be a set of jewels with connecting lines that form a pattern. Over the years, everyone forgot that those symbols were constellations, and that the so-called jewels were actually stars, because no one saw those constellations above them anymore."
"Huh?" Kara asked. She looked over at Lee and saw the wheels spinning behind his eyes. There was a light of understanding there, and it frustrated Kara to know not only that she was missing something, but that Lee was already getting it.
"Let's go back to the Tomb for a second," Ares suggested. "The Tomb was set up right after Athena died, and no one had to go to Earth to find out what the constellations looked like there, because they already knew."
"Right," Lee asked. "Those same symbols were already on the flags of the Twelve Tribes."
"Yes, because the Tribes had already seen those symbols; they'd spent ages living underneath them," Ares said. "All of you humans originally came from Earth. We – the Lords of Kobol, your so-called gods – took a bunch of you from there to a world where you could survive."
"Kobol," Lee said.
"Right," Ares confirmed.
"Wait, are you saying that your people aren't from Kobol, either?" Kara asked.
"Well, not exactly," Ares said, "though since you mention it – no, we're not from Kobol, either. Our planet was destroyed eons ago, but that's not important right now. We were talking about your people, not mine.
"Fine," Kara groused, gesturing for Ares to continue his story.
"Most of you were from a single island city-state called Atlantis, but there were a few from other places, too," Ares said. "We brought you to live amongst us, to serve us, and after Athena's failed revolution, twelve tribes decided to move on, while the thirteenth decided to go home."
"So you're saying Earth is our home planet?" Kara asked skeptically.
"Yes," Ares confirmed. "And even with the way Zeus worked to make sure that fact was lost to the mists of time, I'm surprised you all actually forgot."
"Zeus was trying to make us forget about Earth?" Lee asked. "Why would he do that?"
"Why, indeed?" Ares replied, nodding grimly. "Lee, there's a lot about us you will probably never know."
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"I don't see why you're helping us like this," Admiral Adama commented, looking nervously from Roslin to Drake. No, not Dr. Drake, he corrected. He's Prometheus. Not just a god, but a Titan. As he considered the situation, Adama realized he found it much easier to keep thinking of the man in front of him as Dr. Drake.
"It's all so much more complicated than you know," Drake replied.
"So you've said. But seeing as how you've talked us into this crazy attack, I don't think we're out of line asking a few more questions."
"No, you're not," Drake agreed. "But what you have to understand is that, as much as I've always liked humanity, I don't feel it's in my best interests to tell you everything."
"So keep some of your secrets," Adama said with a shrug. "I don't care. I'm a soldier – I'm used to being told only what I need to know."
"Well, the need-to-know goes like this," Drake said, standing from his chair as if he were about to give a business presentation to the two humans seated before him. "As Pythia wrote – all this has happened before; all this will happen again. And that's entirely accurate."
"How do you mean?" Roslin asked.
"I mean the cycle of destruction and rebirth," Drake told them. "My people, the ones you refer to as the gods and titans, are limited by our natures."
"How so?" Adama interrupted, digging for information, wondering in the back of his mind if there was any tactical advantage to be gained just in case Drake, Ares, and Rutger weren't quite as benevolent as they appeared.
"We can't interact with the physical universe the way you can," Drake said. "You see, we don't have corporeal bodies – my people are beings of thought and energy. When humanity first encountered our species, you were amazed at how we could fly, how we could project our appearance miles away, how we could basically transport from one solar system to another by doing little more than thinking about it. And as you humans stood there, mouths agape, taking us for gods, we marveled at your ability to interact with – and alter – the world around you. You could build homes and villages, and that gave rise to communities. My people didn't have that. We generally stay away from each other, due primarily to the fact that we have no physical needs and thus no incentive to pool our efforts for the benefit of all. Besides, there tend to be problems when groups of us gather for any length of time."
Drake smiled knowingly, as if he was letting Adama and Roslin in on some joke. The admiral nodded, understanding exactly what he meant. The Sacred Scrolls tell of one disagreement after another amongst the Lords of Kobol. Petty jealousies, vendettas, deception, and murder. It's no wonder they don't spend a lot of time amongst each other.
"Anyway, humans were one of the only sentient creatures we'd found in our travels." Drake continued. "There are plenty of life forms in the universe, but most of them are about as self-aware as trees and rabbits. But humans, well… We found we could, as we put it, inhabit a human body. That is to say, we can become one with it, merge with it. It's the kind of thing I've heard some humans call possession, though unfortunately the word has a negative connotation. It's certainly not an evil thing, like some might think; see, we can only inhabit a body if the person is dead."
"You can take over dead bodies?" Roslin asked, clearly unable to decide how to take that piece of information.
"When a person is alive, his own life energy keeps the body going," Drake explained. "But as you know, when a person dies, for whatever reason, the body just stops. Instead of allowing entropy to take its toll, we'll sometimes inhabit that body, reanimate it with our own life energy. Sometimes we live amongst you, enjoying some time within the kind of communities my people don't form, and sometimes we simply take the body elsewhere, to manipulate the physical world away from human sight since, as I said, we can't alter physical objects without inhabiting a physical body."
"Not that this isn't interesting," Adama interrupted, "but how, exactly, does this fall under the category of information that's need-to-know?"
"Because this is what it's all about," Drake said, looking from Roslin to Adama as if he was astounded that they weren't sitting in their chairs at rapt attention. "Remember two things – first, we've become dependent on humans in order to interact with the physical universe; second, we can, in fact, be killed. Zeus fears humans; he fears your tendency toward destruction, the lack of consideration for long-term consequences that results from your short lifespans. He's completely paranoid that your science will become so advanced that you'll either be able to kill us or that you'll stupidly wipe out yourselves."
"Like we almost did with the cylons," Roslin said.
"No," Drake responded, surprising both Roslin and Adama. "The cylons were a planned event. Like Pythia warned – all this has happened before; all this will happen again. It's because Zeus wants it that way. He wants to limit humanity, to keep you one or two steps away from a point where you could be a true threat, either to us or yourselves. Pythia came to understand that, and her writings were a warning to later generations that would be caught up in the cycle."
"Pythia came to understand that," Roslin repeated, smiling thinly. "You told her, didn't you? You wanted to warn us somehow."
"Yes," Drake confirmed. "But I had to warn humans in a way that Zeus wouldn't see. For someone who appears in the Sacred Scrolls as much as he does, and for someone as unapologetically narcissistic as he is, he has an appalling lack of knowledge of your scriptures. To be honest, he sees your religion as a cute diversion, something to keep you preoccupied while he and his people continue to keep you from developing to your full potential."
"He's treating us like children," Roslin muttered.
"That's how he sees you," Drake shrugged. "It's how most of us do."
"Except for you four?" Adama asked.
"No, the other three are not all like me," Drake warned, once more taking his seat. "Ares is only here because he started salivating at the thought of a war between humans, cylons, and gods; he's not really personally invested in the outcome. Nemesis is here because he couldn't pass up the chance to set all of humanity on a vendetta. And Hades… well, his reasons are his own. He hasn't told me, and I haven't asked. But he's always been irked that Zeus usually gets all the attention, and he holds a grudge about Apollo being seen as the god of medicine."
"Excuse me?" Roslin asked, holding up her hand in a signal to halt the conversation. "Did you really just say he has a grudge about Apollo being the God of Medicine?"
"Yes," Drake confirmed with an amused chuckle. "Hades is incredibly powerful, even by our standards – he's actually learned to manipulate his own energy to heal wounds in physical creatures, to bring life where there was only death. He figures that's a good enough to qualify him as the god of medicine. But humans couldn't learn to do what he does – he couldn't pass on the knowledge of manipulating life energy – and Apollo basically swooped in and taught humans about a few herbs they could use as medicinal remedies. So Apollo gets to be the God of Medicine, and Hades is the God of Death; he has a huge chip on his shoulder about being associated with the one thing that humans dread most. To be quite honest, that grudge have been all it took to get him to join up and maybe redefine himself in humanity's eyes. At the very least, he figures he'll probably get a chance to smack around that pompous ass, Apollo."
"I see," Roslin said, averting her eyes from Drake, wondering how she had not yet broken out into laughter.
Adama, who'd been far more serious up to that point, was fine until he saw Roslin's expression. She's surprised to hear that our so-called gods hold petty grudges the same way we humans do, and she's shocked to hear them bicker about each other like this.
"So is it just the four of you?" Adama asked, trying to get back on-topic, wondering how Drake expected to win this battle. The admiral had never been a religious man, but he was familiar enough with the scriptures to be able to figure out how well four gods were likely to fare against the rest of the pantheon.
"There are more of us," Drake assured them both. "Hesperos is actually on Caprica right now, though most of the others remain hidden. I know what you're thinking, Admiral."
"I bet."
"We're outnumbered, yes," Drake admitted, "but we have an ace up our sleeve, something I didn't share with your son and Captain Thrace."
"And what's that?" Adama asked.
"The cylon god," Drake said with a grim smile. "He's a double-edged sword, someone who could end up hurting you far more than the cylons ever could; but it's because of him that you'll likely be able to count on the other Lords of Kobol abandoning the battlefield."
"Excuse me?" Roslin asked.
"Zeus has no idea how dangerous the cylons are," Drake explained. "He still sees them as machines, mindless automatons that can be brushed aside once they've done their job of wiping out most of humanity, returning mankind to the comfortable, familiar status of house pets. He never stopped to wonder where the cylons got the technology to make themselves look human, how their development remained relatively stagnant except for that one unprecedented leap of inspiration. At the time of the first war, the cylons were slow, clumsy, ineffective in battle save for their sheer numbers. Now, they're superior to humans, and they've shown it. Zeus looks around and sees his plans progressing according to schedule, so he doesn't look more closely to see if there's anyone guiding the cylons. The cylons are even breeding with humans now, creating undreamt-of hybrids, and Zeus doesn't realize what's going on right in front of him."
"Which is?"
"Someone else is guiding the cylons, and he's doing such a good job of remaining behind the scenes that Zeus actually believes he's the one in control."
"The cylon god?" Adama asked. "Who is it?"
"Cronus," Drake muttered, something in his voice hinting at fear and reverence. "It's frakking Cronus."
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Helo inhaled deeply, practically overwhelmed by Hera's scent. He'd always heard that babies smell good, but when he wasn't simply disregarding that as a cliché told by parents who were in complete denial after changing their hundredth diaper, he was chalking it up to the plethora of lotions and wipes in which babies were constantly bathed. But now he knew better.
Babies smell good, he admitted to himself. And Hera smells better than the rest. He smiled broadly and looked at Sharon. Even now, he half-wondered if he was asleep somewhere, dreaming up this scene before him. I don't know that it could get any more perfect than this.
"I love you," Sharon told him, gazing into his eyes, her expression tense, with no hint of the happiness that Helo was feeling.
"I love you too," he assured her.
"I know," she said. "And that's why I need you to promise me something."
"Not now," Helo told her. He knew exactly what she was thinking – she wanted his assurances that he would protect Hera, that he would care for her, if something went wrong and she was killed during the coming attack. She's just overreacting, he told himself. She's going to be in CIC. There's no safer place in the fleet.
"Yes, now," Sharon insisted. "I need to ask, Helo."
"Fine," Helo sighed.
"If something goes wrong…" she said, her voice cracking in mid-sentence. She took a deep breath, and Helo saw that she was crying.
"It'll be fine," Helo said confidently.
"I wasn't finished," Sharon finally said. "Just listen."
"Okay," Helo said. Hera stirred, and he started rubbing the back of her hand, knowing that invariably helped calm her down.
"If something goes wrong, Helo, if I start acting strangely—"
"What are you talking about?" Helo asked, realizing she wasn't going to ask what he expected.
"If I start asking strangely, if I say or do anything that could compromise our safety – that could compromise Hera's safety – I need to know that you'll do what you need to."
"If you're saying—"
"I am," Sharon said. Helo couldn't remember ever looking more serious. "Helo, I'm a cylon. I shot the Old Man, and it's not something I ever could have imagined myself doing. I don't know if they still have any control over me. I don't know if there's anything I can do to resist if they try to get me to start tearing up CIC."
"You're talking crazy," Helo responded. "The cylons don't have any more power over you."
"You don't know that," Sharon said earnestly. She was pleading with him now, but he didn't know what she was pleading for. Does she really want me to promise to stop her? Or does she just want me to sit here and keep telling her it'll be okay? Or should I just sit and listen, the way Starbuck told me was the best way to handle a woman who's upset about something?
"Sharon…"
"I know what I'm asking," Sharon told him. "But let me be very specific. If I say or do anything that makes you think for just a second that I might not be in control of my own actions, I want you to draw your weapon and put a bullet in my head."
"No," Helo said. "I can't do that."
"You have to," she growled. "I'm talking about protecting Hera, Helo. I don't care what happens to me, no more than you care what happens to you, so long as Hera is safe. And I need you to promise me."
"Nothing's gonna happen," Helo said confidently, though he was terrified to admit to himself that he wasn't nearly as certain as he sounded.
"I'm not saying anything will," Sharon admitted. "I just can't be sure, and before I go into CIC, I need to know that you'll be there, and that you'll do whatever it takes – whatever it takes – to protect our daughter."
"Fine," Helo finally relented. "I'll do whatever it takes." But it won't be necessary. I just know it.
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"So you won't tell us where Earth is," Kara said.
"Nope," Ares confirmed.
"Could you give us a hint?" Kara asked in a high-pitched voice that reminded Lee of a child asking for a hint as to what his parents were going to get him for his birthday.
"No," Ares said with a laugh.
"But wouldn't it be better to go there?" Lee asked. "Compared to returning to the Colonies, it clearly makes more sense."
"Only because you haven't seen Earth," Ares told him.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Kara asked.
"Earthers are completely screwed up," Ares explained. "The planet is vastly overcrowded, and they don't even believe in us anymore."
"They don't believe in the gods?" Kara asked dubiously. "How is that possible?"
"It's funny, but a lot of them are monotheists, like the cylons," Ares answered. "Though fittingly enough, being human, the Earthers found a way to fight over it. Most Earthers worship the same god, but with what amount to infinite, minor differences in dogma or tradition. They spend a lot of time killing each other over it."
"How do you mean?" Lee asked.
"Well, the first of these monotheists – we'll call them Group A – said that they were awaiting a savior," Ares explained. "Some of these people eventually believed that this savior arrived – they're Group B – and they recruited lots of people, whether from Group A, or worshippers of the same gods as you, or people of any one of a hundred other religions they have on Earth; but lots of people in Group A maintained their earlier beliefs, unable to accept the fulfillment of their prophecies."
"How does that make any sense?" Kara asked, staring at Ares, searching for any sign that he was joking with them. "How can people refuse to accept the arrival of a prophesied savior?"
"Well, prophecies are a tricky thing," Ares pointed out. "Anyone who's tried to make heads or tails of Pythia or Tabitha Donner in the past year could attest to that. It's easy to show five people the same prophecy and get five different interpretations. So it was only natural that some Earthers believed in the fulfillment of prophecy, and some didn't. Then Group C eventually came along, and they also didn't believe the savior had come yet."
"So doesn't that make them part of Group A?" Lee asked.
"No, because Group C had a political and cultural history of some… friction… with Group A," Ares said. "So despite the slew of similarities in their beliefs, Group A and Group C, both of whom believe in the same god and don't believe that the god's prophesied savior has arrived, hate each more than they hate Group B, which actually has fundamental differences based on its teaching that major prophecies have been fulfilled. Basically, Groups A and C have projected their own animosities toward each other onto their god, refusing to accept the possibility that their god would ever welcome the other group into his collection of chosen people."
"You're right, they're screwed up," Lee agreed.
"But it only gets better," Ares continued. "In the time since they originally gathered into their own faith, the people of Group B ended up splitting into countless factions themselves, each one convinced that they're right and the others are wrong."
"So they're always warring over religion?" Lee asked.
"Among other things," Ares sighed. "Look, you remember your history classes?"
"Of course," Lee said.
"Well, not really," Kara admitted sheepishly. She'd never liked history very much.
"I'm sure you remember stuff about the wars before the Articles of Colonization, though, right?" Ares asked her.
"Sure," Kara said, "but don't ask for any specifics on any. There were a lot of them."
"There were," Ares agreed. "Twelve Tribes on twelve planets, each of them with moons and small, supporting settlements and mining colonies like Troy and Knossos. And even with all that space in between them, the Colonies found reasons to have the occasional war… at least until the cylons came along and presented a common threat that united them during the First War."
"So what's your point?" Lee asked.
"Twelve governments spread out across twelve planets," Ares said. "The Earthers, though, are divided among over two-hundred different governments on just one planet."
"That's impossible," Kara protested. "How could you possibly divide up a planet like that? It makes no sense."
"I never said it did," Ares told her. "I'm just reporting the facts. They have well over six billion people and two-hundred distinct states with different governments, cultures, and languages; they fight over national identities; they fight over rapidly dwindling resources; they fight over pride; they fight over what they believe is honor; they fight over politics, and skin color, and religion, and boredom. You would think that for me, the God of War, Earth would be a paradise. But the fact is, the place sorta disgusts even me."
"But they only worship one god?" Lee asked, still finding that similarity with the cylons strangely disconcerting.
"Certainly not all of them, but a good portion of them do," Ares said. "And you know, they're so fervent about it that sometimes I've actually wondered if maybe they're right, if maybe there is one god out there who created everything, even my people."
"And what do you think about that?" Kara asked.
"I think if I have to face him when I die, he isn't going to be overly thrilled about me spending millennia claiming to be a god," Ares said, laughing slightly, downing his umpteenth beer and opening yet another. "Anyway, maybe I'll find out soon enough. I mean, what are the chances this battle is actually going to end well for us?"
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"You see, Admiral, as I explained in our briefing, the humans aren't the only ones caught in a cycle," Drake explained slowly, leaning back in his chair, reminding Adama of one of his college professors. "This is about my kind – the so-called titans – returning to trim back the power of the gods, even as the gods work to trim back the development of the humans. All this has happened before, all this will happen again." Drake threw up his hands in frustration as he stood to pace from one side of the room to the other. "We're all slaves to history. There's a saying that those who don't learn from history are bound to repeat it, and you see the truth of that statement playing out before you."
"I'm not sure I follow," Roslin admitted. "Are you saying that Cronus is responsible for the cylons' victory?"
"I have no doubt," Drake answered. "Of course, I can't prove it. I've questioned Ms. Valerii, hoping to get her to shed some light on the situation, maybe reveal some crucial nugget of information she doesn't even realize she knows. But I've gotten nothing from her. The only way I know for sure is that it feels like Cronus."
"How do you mean?" Adama asked.
"As I told you, my people are beings of thought and energy," Drake explained. "To strike an analogy, look at how humans affect the world around them. When you sneeze, the air around you stirs. When you speak, the sound waves move away from you to be detected by others. When you sweat, others can smell it. My people are much the same, though your species is as unable to sense our effects on the environment any more than one of us, in our natural form, would be able to smell your sweat or feel you sneeze on us. It's been a long time since Cronus has been in this region of space, and I suspect the gods have all forgotten how he feels… that is to say, how it feels to be around him. But I'm a titan; I knew him long before the gods came along. He's stronger now – that much is unmistakable – but I'm certain it's him. And he's not alone."
"The other titans are with him?" Roslin asked.
"For the most part," Drake confirmed. "Some are sitting on the sidelines, waiting to see how this plays out, and some of the lesser gods are working with the titans, hoping their lot will improve after the regime change."
"The regime change?" Adama asked. "What, exactly, does that mean?"
"I have a theory," Drake said, "but as I told you, I don't even have any actual proof that Cronus is back. I'm just drawing conclusions on what I see, making the leaps of logic that your species has proven to be far better at."
"And what conclusions are those?" Roslin asked.
"Zeus is trying to renew the cycle; we know that much for certain," Drake said. "My people have followed a cycle of destruction and rebuilding, just as humanity has. Cronus was the greatest of what we consider the second generation of our people, what you refer to as the titans; he came to power after killing his own father and toppling his regime. The titans then ruled, led by Cronus, producing what you refer to as the gods, the third generation of our people. Zeus was the greatest of the gods, and he deposed Cronus – his father – after a great war. The fourth generation was then produced, the ones who lived amongst you on Kobol and are referred to alternately as gods or the Lords of Kobol. The greatest of these was Athena, and she led a rebellion against Zeus."
"She lost," Roslin said quickly. "So the cycle was cut off."
"Exactly," Drake said, smiling broadly, clearly pleased that Adama and Roslin seemed to be following along so easily. "That had never happened before, not in thousands of years and several cycles of history. There are many reasons Athena lost, but for the most part, it boils down to the presence of humanity."
"How so?" Roslin asked.
"That doesn't matter," Drake said, making no secret of the fact that this was one of the things he felt neither Roslin nor Adama needed to know.
Adama made a mental note to look through their remaining histories and religious texts to see if there was any hint as to what actually happened to Athena. If it's something Drake doesn't want us to know, then it's something we may be able to use against them if things start to go wrong out there.
"With the cycle cut off, I think Cronus probably sensed an opportunity," Drake continued. "Zeus had triumphed where his predecessors had failed, and he became overconfident. In the end, he started worrying only about humanity and its progress, preoccupying himself with making you all the best little servants you could be. Since he stopped looking to his own people for threats, he missed Cronus' return. Cronus was probably waiting and watching, knowing that at some point Zeus would decide humanity's progress needed to be set back several thousand years in order to make them safer.
"So Zeus is trimming back humanity, and the cylons are the machines he's using to do the trimming. The ensuing chaos and destruction has allowed Cronus to come forth unnoticed. Let me make this clear," Drake said, now looking gravely serious, "Cronus never liked humans. The gods brought a handful of humans to Kobol, and those few were enough to incite the Titanomachy, which resulted in Cronus being driven from Kobol, even being presumed dead for millennia. After that war, the gods returned to Earth and brought thousands of humans back to Kobol; they eventually enjoyed a prosperous era of harmony with their human pets. If Cronus is back and looking for revenge, you can bet that he isn't limiting himself to the gods – he's looking to wipe out humanity, too."
"But you said that your people are unable to interact with the physical universe without human bodies," Roslin pointed out. "He'd be cutting off his nose to spite his face."
"Unless he's found different vessels," Drake countered. "Perhaps some vessels that offer all of the comfortable familiarity of the human form, but which are stronger, faster, more durable, and demonstrably superior to humans."
"Oh, hell," Adama grumbled. "He's planning on using cylons instead of humans."
"No," Drake corrected. "Cylons, for all their similarities with humans, have the drawback of being sterile in terms of breeding with each other; on their own they aren't a renewable population. But they can breed with humans."
"And the hybrid offspring…" Roslin said, unable to speak the final words.
"Are probably exactly what he wants," Drake finished for her. "I suspect that Sharon Valerii's child is the product of some elaborate scheme, the culmination of thousands of years of Cronus's obsessive plotting for vengeance. In Cronus's eyes, I think humans are as deserving of extermination as the gods are."
"So what do we do?" Roslin asked, turning from Drake to Adama.
"There's an old saying," Adama said. "The enemy of my enemy is my friend."
"Exactly," Drake agreed. "Which is one reason why Hesperos is on Caprica right now."
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"We found it like this when we reported to our post this morning," one of the marines said, looking Baltar in the eye, displaying all of the respect and professionalism that Baltar had come to expect from the marines. Baltar noticed the man also seemed to possess all of the marines' characteristic narrow-minded adherence to protocol; he didn't seem particularly upset by the turn of events.
"How did this happen?" Baltar asked. He couldn't tear his gaze away from Gina's body, hanging limply from the top bar of her cell, her pant-legs strangling her throat in a makeshift noose.
"It appears it killed itself," the marine answered, pointing out the obvious.
"I can see that," Baltar barked, infuriated with the fact that the marine kept referring to Gina as 'it,' but knowing that he wouldn't do himself any good by correcting the man. "What I mean is, where the hell were her guards? She was supposed to be under guard at all times."
"Yes, sir," the marine admitted.
"Then where the hell were they?" Baltar asked. He was aware that he was practically shouting now, but he didn't care about that. All he wanted was to know who had allowed Gina to kill herself.
"It appears the guards on duty moved out into the hall, Sir," the marine explained.
"Moved out into the hall?" Baltar repeated incredulously. "Why would they do that?"
"The guards' responsibilities were twofold, Sir," the marine answered evenly. "Their primary responsibility was preventing the cylon's escape; the second was to prevent anyone from getting into the cell, whether those people were cylon agents looking to free the prisoner, or humans looking to kill it. It was not unusual for guards to rotate outside the holding cell and patrol the hallway for brief periods of time. We did this to make sure no one was in the halls, scouting out the location or acting suspiciously. No one listed the cylon for a suicide watch, Sir; if they had, we would have had another guard in here with it at all times."
"I see," Baltar spat. He could practically see his fury rolling off him in waves, and he marveled at the marine's ability to stand there as indifferently as if Baltar had simply stopped to ask for directions to the mess hall.
"They let her die," Six said behind him.
He was surprised to find that her words actually eased his mind. She agrees that Gina killed herself, he realized. She could stand there and accuse the humans of killing Gina and covering up their sins under the pitiful guise of suicide, but she isn't doing that. Just like me, she's just blaming them for leaving her alone when they probably knew what was running through her mind. Strange that she'd pass up an opportunity to demonize a few humans.
"I'll conduct a review to determine exactly what happened," the marine assured Baltar. "After all, we wouldn't want something like this to happen if we had a human in custody."
"Yes, of course… a human," Baltar said, trying to smile pleasantly but only mustering a sneer as he turned his back on the scene in front of him. They don't understand, he fumed, knowing enough to keep his thoughts to himself. When they looked at her, they only saw a thing. They never saw the woman inside… not like I did. Humanity could never understand what Gina and I would have ended up sharing, and I can never forgive them for what they've allowed to happen here.
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"So, you've told us a whole lot," Kara said, "but you still haven't said why you came back."
"True," Lee added.
"You serious?" Ares asked.
"Yup," Kara grinned. "Let's have it."
"I figured you woulda known already," Ares told them. "I mean, you're about to fight one of the biggest battles in the history of your species. Why the frak wouldn't I come back for that?"
"So it's that simple?" Lee asked. "Because if it is, and if you knew this battle was coming from Day 1, then I don't see why you left. I mean, you told us it was because you were scared of your own mortality, but it couldn't have been that bad, because here you are, ready to rush in alongside us."
"It kind of has to do with my reputation," Ares said, opening another beer. "Long, long ago, I was considered the God of War, but I was also seen as a real big prick. I told you that most of the humans we brought to Kobol were from a place called Atlantis; well, the Atlantians were of a people called the Greeks. They all knew about us and worshipped us as gods the same way the people in the Colonies did."
"This was on Earth?" Kara asked.
"Yup."
"So this was a long time ago, right?" Kara responded. "Since humans don't worship you anymore."
"It is," Ares confirmed. "Anyway, the Greeks had no shortage of chances to see at my worst, like when I seduced Aphrodite and got my ass kicked by Hephaestus. Fact is, I always ended up losing when I got in a fight with an equal. Fighting wars is fun when you're a god fighting men, or cylons, or whatever. One on one, or a hundred to one, no human can stand against me. But this battle we're planning… this is against gods. And that's some scary shit."
"Yeah, it is," Kara agreed, though she proudly noticed that she sounded far less concerned than the God of War.
"Anyway, after the whole thing with Athena, I went back to Earth for a while, spent some time being worshipped again. It's a great way to lift your spirits."
"Yeah, it is," Kara agreed again. This time, they all ended up sharing a laugh that helped ease the mood, which had rushed straight past depressing and was now marching double-time toward morbid.
"Eventually, I fell in with a new nation called Rome," Ares finally continued. "Got myself a new name – Mars – and a whole lot more respect. Instead of an overgrown, spoiled, temperamental little cuss, I was seen as a proper God of War. It really helped my self-esteem."
Kara couldn't help laughing despite herself, amused by the thought of a god grappling with his own feelings of inadequacy. Ares smiled broadly, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking, and continued with his story.
"The Romans were really bad-ass, more so than any humans had been up to that point, and truth be told, I had a lot to do with that," Ares said proudly. "But I digress. To answer your question, I wasn't going to miss this. And you know, fact is, I love hanging out with you guys. For eons I've watched human soldiers develop this close bond that made them willing to die for each other, even when they had no use for the nations whose armies they fought in. I don't know that I ever understood what that was until you two clowns came along. So tomorrow we go into battle, and I'm gonna make a stand, one way or the other, the same as you two. You'll get to fight some cylons, and I'll get to smack around a few gods. And we're gonna kick some ass."
"No doubt," Kara agreed, raising her bottle for a toast with Ares. For his part, Lee just stared at the both of them like they were crazy.
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Saul Tigh fought to his feet, ignoring the ambrosia-induced dizziness that threatened to overwhelm his sense of balance. He looked around his quarters, ignoring the inconvenient tear welling up in the corner of his eye. In the back of his mind, a voice reminded him that he'd never taken any time to grieve the loss of his wife.
And now here I am, alone when I should be kissing her goodbye and heading up to CIC to get an early start, he cursed silently. His mind focused on one part of his lament – kissing her goodbye. He hadn't had a chance to do that before she died, and more than anything else, that was what infuriated him.
Soldiers should have a chance to say goodbye, he fumed. It's our right… the one right we have. We get our marching orders, we see the inevitable, and we get a few frakking moments to kiss our families goodbye. Or at least write a note letting them know how we feel. I'm not supposed to be left alone, on the eve of battle, missing my wife because some son of a bitch killed her. She's supposed to be here, right now…
Saul hurled his glass against the wall, immediately disappointed that there was no thrill in the act of destruction. He grabbed the half-empty bottle of ambrosia – his last one – and smashed that against the wall, too, spraying glass and alcohol over the entire side of the room. And still his rage was left unsated.
He picked up a chair and brought it crashing down on the tabletop, obliterating a serving bowl that had been set there the morning his wife was killed. He grabbed another chair and tossed it against the wall, shattering a mirror. He lost himself in a drunken rage, only gathering his senses when just about every breakable item in his quarters had been destroyed.
He stood there for several minutes, panting, thrilled by the adrenaline coursing through his veins. He picked up a jagged shard of his mirror from the floor and double-checked his appearance. "Frak it," he told the empty room.
He staggered into the head and took a quick shower. He took his time shaving, then spent several minutes shining his shoes. Finally, he grabbed a crisp uniform that Ellen had gotten pressed over on Cloud Nine. Putting that on, he took another look in his sliver of mirror, this time far more pleased with his appearance.
Now I can go to CIC, he decided. He grabbed his sidearm from his bureau and walked to the door, looking forward to the order of CIC after the ruin that waited for him in his quarters once his shift was done.
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"I'm glad we got a chance to do this," Kara said, looking at Ares and Lee. Sometime during the night, it had gotten to the point where she no longer found it unusual to be sharing beers and stories with a god. And now she was wondering what was stranger – hanging out with a god, or being comfortable doing so.
"Me too," Lee said.
"Yeah," Ares agreed. "It's been fun."
"And now I'm off to get some sleep," Lee said.
"Night," Kara called out to his back.
"See ya later," Ares told Kara, staggering to his feet and walking out behind Lee.
"Yeah," Kara agreed.
Once she was left alone, she allowed a smile to cross her face. It had been a long time since she and Lee had spent that much time in one room without wanting to hit each other. Not since Zak was alive, she decided. Then again, it did take divine intervention to pull it off. She leaned her chair back on two legs, fished her last cigar out of her pocket, and opened the last beer from Ares' last case. She sat there in silence for several minutes, focusing on the thrum of the engines, steady and endless.
Despite the fact that it was the eve of what Starbuck figured was humanity's greatest battle, she felt completely at peace. Right now, there's nowhere I'd rather be, she decided. She'd really enjoyed her time talking with Ares and Lee, and now she spent her rest of the night in the room, alone with the soothing lullaby of Pegasus's sub-light engines, thanking the gods that neither of her friends had mentioned that, in all likelihood, they wouldn't live long enough to have another night like this one again.
To be continued……………………………