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Chapter 14: The Darkest Hour


The little cluster of tents sat an inch deep in mud, the rain splashing brown specks halfway up the sides of the green canvas walls. In each, the fires that were so vital to their survival burnt in the safety of the pits each resident had dug upon the first days of the settlement. But each tent that day lit up the tents entirely, save for the outlines of the sparse furnishings. The bulk of the people were not there.

Laura Adama lay asleep in Ellen Tigh's tent, the latter woman at her side with an icepack secured to her cheek and another in her hand, hovering over Laura's skull.

Gently, she let the pack down over the other woman's head. After a minute or so, she removed it, and heaved a sigh. There was no longer red staining the white cloth. Cottle would be pleased his sewing job had been so effective.

"Major...," she said softly.

At the front of the tent Jack Cottle turned from the wash basin. Ellen held up the icepack for him to see. He nodded.

"Good, it means the wound wasn't as bad as it looked out there."

Ellen tried a weak smile, while died as he said 'out there'.

"Zeus on a cracker," she muttered. She stood, brushed out her long skirt, and moved to open the tent flap," I'm going to go see if there is any news," she said, grabbing the coat she'd forgotten to return to Bill. She looked at it sadly for a moment, then put it on.

"Fine. Just don't yourself knocked around again, woman, or I may have to sedate you for a month," Cottle barked. Another smile, this one stronger, was his response before Ellen's blond head ducked out of the tent and into the miserable outdoors.

The doctor turned back to his other regular patient," How may times am I going to have to patch you up, young lady?"

No response met his ear other than Laura's deep breathing. Cottle gentle brushed some stray hairs out of her eyes, letting his hand remain near her hair.

" A few more times, I'll wager," he whispered, looking towards the tent's opening, "Gods preserve that husband of yours though."

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The coat Ellen wrapped about her protected her body from the wind and rain, but she'd neglected the hood. The water mattered her once vibrant hair down around her shoulders, making her look smaller, less significant. It was how she'd felt, at least. Insignificant. Especially once she laid eyes on the detention center.

The whole of the Fleet was there. Soldiers and pilots stood closest, while the rest of the people gather behind. They were silent, like the center of storm cells back in her hometown on Caprica.

She found Tyrol in the center of the military group and pulled on his arm to get his attention.

"Nothing," he said as soon as he saw who it was," not a damn thing. How's the Old Lady?"

"Alive and finally sleeping," she replied, eyes turning towards the gates of the large gray building.

"Is there anything we can do?"

Tyrol looked back at her sadly,"I..don't know."

They looked back together, standing in silence. Ellen felt the cold winds brush under the hem of her muddied slacks and shivered, but stayed where she was.

She felt inactive. Her arms and legs felt like they were buzzing as she stood beside Tyrol. For the first time in her life, Ellen Marie Tigh wanted to get in someone's face and not go behind their back. She'd always sneered at Bill, and by extension Saul, for their dedication to something other than the real world before them. But looking at Laura, and knowing Bill was in the building before her facing an almost certain death gave her pause.

"Wait, somethings happening," hissed Tyrol in her ear. Ellen's head shot up as her heart did a leap up her throat and over her head.

A copy of Sharon was walking towards them. Her body language was blank, emotionless. But her eyes. Ellen had always been one to note the little details. Never on people like this, but she had. This woman's eyes were pained, dulled, but pained.

Ellen though back to something she'd heard from Saul, back just after the Agathon woman began to become one of them. She'd gotten the acceptance eventually because of how Cylons downloaded. She wasn't Boomer. But this one...this one had Boomer's memories. Perhaps she had the guilt, too.

"WHERE'S ADAMA?!" screamed someone in the crowd. An angry murmur grew among them, a hive detecting an invasion.

"They really shouldn't of sent that model out. Baring Athena, they're all Boomer," Tyrol growled.

"Shh," she whispered. The copy Sharon looked ready to speak.

"Please return to your homes," the Cylon called out, voice strong yet somehow soft among the pla-plap of the drizzling rain," you do your Admiral no good by this. D'Anna will send out Centurions if I return with no sign of this mob being disbanded."

"Why do you care?" Ellen said, pushing forward. She set her face in the most scornful look in her arsenal.

The Cylon looked at her calmly, doe eyes studying her," I am a model Eight," she said, " we are not without sympathy. Now go, or the Admiral will have to see his people die first." With that, the Cylon turned from them and walked back into the hallway of the detention center.

The slow buzzing murmur that had greeted the Eight rose again as soon as she was out of sight.

"People, people!" Ellen almost sighed with relief. Tom Zarek parted the crowd around him and jumped onto some empty crates sitting near the center's gate. She could see the fading bruise over his left eye from his first stint as a prisoner and see the cuts down his left arm from yet another visit. He'd been out of the picture since Laura's arrest and torture, but she could tell he hadn't recovered from his own wounds. Still, she was glad to see him.

"For the time being, let the bulk of you follow the Eight's advice. We do not need to let innocent blood spill. Take your families and return to your tents. I will remain here. Please," he said, out of breath from just that short speech. He held his arms around his chest, as if keeping his lungs in place. Ellen winced. Gods, what had they done to him.

And what, she wondered suddenly, did that mean they would do to Bill before they finally killed him?

People pushed past her as they disbursed, muttered and shooting fowl looks at the detention center. But they all were soon out of sight, leaving Ellen standing in the mud with Galen Tyrol and Tom Zarek. The two men looked at each other, then at her, before Tyrol spoke.

"What are we going to do?" he said.

For a second Tom seemed ready to answer, but once he was sure the bulk of the Fleet was out of earshot, his shoulders slumped and her looked at them with resignation.

"I don't think we can do anything."

Tyrol's face paled. He looked away and turned his back on them, marching back towards the tent city without a word. When he was gone, Tom looked her straight in the eye.

"Gods willing, your husband and Commander Adama will get here before tomorrow."

"And if they're not?"

"Then pray they make it quick."

Ellen is just becoming a bigger person than I'd imagined. It's kinda..fun. Anyhow, enjoy.