Title: Faoi Dheireadh
Part: 52
Rating: PG, maybe PG-13 later
Pairing: A/R
Summary: The survivors of the Holocaust have
finally reached Earth, but they find out that's not the end of their
problems
Beta: Mariel
Note: I do want to thank Vi, Marta, Axelrajr,
Moggie, Rap541, and AlbertG for their expertise. Without their input
this story would not be what it is today. Be warned, this takes place
sometime near the end of season two. Anything after Epiphanies are
conjectures from the author's warped mind. . .
Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica and its characters are creations of Glen Larson and copywrited by Universal Studios. I make no money off of this.
Colonial speech: " "
English speech: ' '
Chapter Fifty-two
Felix Gaeta slowly walked through the hospital corridors. It had been several long days since he had been there. The first thing he was going to do, though, was to check on Racetrack. In a way it bothered him that there was no one to sit with her. That being the case, he decided to bring the pda Angela had given him early on, the same one that had English lessons on it, and give it to her. If anything, she could learn the planet's language, and communicate with the doctors.
So much had happened that he felt like he was in a fog. It didn't help that he wasn't sleeping. He stopped suddenly when he reached the end of the hall. I must have passed her room without thinking. He turned around and looked back down the corridor. There were many health care workers moving in and out of the rooms. This time he moved down the corridor with a purpose. Lieutenant Edmonson's room was in the middle. The door was open a crack and he could hear sounds coming from inside. "Lieutenant?" he asked as he pushed it open.
Gaeta had to admit it was good to see her awake. Tubes were still sticking out of her in different places. The noise he had heard was coming from a monitor on a stand bolted to the wall. It reminded him of the viewers back on Caprica, though it was much more compact. Angela had called it a telly.
Racetrack slowly brought her head around slowly. Her eyes brightened with recognition for a moment before dying away. "I'm sorry," she said in a broken whisper as she turned her face back to the wall.
"For what?" Gaeta sat down in the sole chair.
"For what happened. . .sir."
Felix sighed. "It's not your fault. It was a freak accident." He hesitated before continuing, "Tyrol has already narrowed the catalyst to the hydraulics. I want you to tell me what you remember."
Margaret shook her head slowly. "I'm not sure. . .T-there was an explosion, followed by a hard thrust to port. . .I-it's hard to remember."
Gaeta sighed. This whole thing was giving him a headache. "You're doing fine," he offered, trying to give her at least some level of comfort. Now I know what Adama goes through. "Do you remember anything else?"
"Not much," she said groggily. "Couldn't control the speed. . .did what I could. . ." She was quickly fading towards what looked like sleep.
"Are you finished?" an angry voice came from behind.
Felix turned around and looked at the individual standing in the door. He recognized Jankowitz immediately. "Admiral Adama wanted a report on what happened."
"She is in no condition at the present time to answer any questions," he brushed past Gaeta and moved to the other side of the bed.
The Colonial officer took that as a dismissal and slowly backed out of the room. Doctors will forever be the same.
'Sir?' an unknown voice broke through his musing. 'Yes?' Gaeta turned to look. The man looked like he was one of the Terran pilots.
'Uh. . .is anyone in there right now?' he indicated the door into Lieutenant Edmondson's hospital room.
'One of the doctors.' Gaeta let a wry grin cross his face at the Terran's reaction. He glanced down to the nametag. That might be something we can add to the uniform. 'Why are you here, Janes?' he queried.
'I, um, thought it was sad that she didn't have anyone there to sit with her,' Janes gave him a slightly guilty look. 'You know, her family needs to know that she's hurt.'
Gaeta gave him a sad smile. 'There's no one left.' He didn't want to go further into the matter. 'It is not good for her to be alone,' he said in a low voice as he brushed past the Terran. Once he made it around the corner, he sighed and leaned up against the wall. Janes was right, it's not good for Racetrack to be alone, but there just weren't enough people anymore.
He opened his eyes, and pulled out the pda from his breast pocket. What Margaret had told him did fit in with Tyrol's reports. He jotted down her comments, then turned it off as he put it back in his pocket. Adama needed to get the report, but he wasn't sure how to get it up to the Admiral when he was planetside. He'd have to think up something.
The room Angela was in was on a different floor. Stepping out of the elevator, he noticed how things were much more intense. Pushing the thoughts from his mind, he moved over to the nurses' desk. 'Can you tell me where Lieutenant Angela Glennan's room is?'
'Third door down the hall,' the man currently stationed behind the desk answered.
'Thank you,' Felix answered as he left the desk and went towards her room. It was his worst fear that she'd look the same as when she had come out of surgery. It had been four days since he had been planetside, and he had heard nothing from the hospital or Captain O'Neill of her condition. The room she was in had no door. Medical equipment cluttered around her bed and in between it all her lone visitor was her mother, Katelyn. His mind drifted back to Racetrack and how no one was there for her. It had saddened him to see her alone. At least Angela has her mother to sit beside her. What surprised him was about half of the computers had been turned off, and she was breathing on her own. When she had come out of surgery even he could tell she had been on complete life support.
'The PTSC was here a short time ago. They're wanting to know what happened,' Katelyn commented.
'I'm not sure who you are talking about,' Felix answered in confusion.
'It's a safety commission that investigates airplane accidents to find their cause.' She glanced up at him before turning her attention back to Angela. 'I never expected this to happen.'
'Ma'am,' he fumbled over what he wanted to say. 'What about those? Why are they off?' he indicated the computers.
'Because her diaphragm and lungs were repaired sufficiently for her to breathe on her own. The doctors are still watching her liver and kidneys closely. If they don't improve in the next 24 to 48 hours, they will have to be replaced.'
'I see,' Gaeta nodded absently.
'How long are you going to be here?' the older woman asked.
'I can be here for a while.'
On the other side of the capital city, Admiral Orbach sat in a somewhat ornate, but sparsely decorated waiting area. Just by sight alone, he could tell the planet was once a colony of the UK. The Scandinavians liked their simple clean lines, but many of the countries that made up the EU preferred more ornate decorations. The English used an odd mixture of the ornate furniture and designs for the government buildings, and rustic country charm for their homes.
A formally dressed aide opened the door to the office and stepped inside the waiting area. 'Admiral, the Prime Minister will see you now.'
'Thank you.' Orbach stood up. He picked up his attaché case and walked into the next room. Prime Minister Alistar Hamilton was seated at a table. The desk was in the back corner, completely covered in papers. The last time he had been here had been right after Hamilton had been elected. That had been last year. 'So Admiral, you have something for me?'
'You could say that, sir.' Jeremiah gave him a wry smile as he moved deeper into the room. 'It's more interesting than anything else.' He set the case down and waited patiently for the senior minister to stand up. Instead of getting to his feet, Alistar pointed to a chair on the other side of the table. 'Sit down, Admiral. I've known you long enough to know when you're angry at something.'
'Thank you,' he sat down and opened his case. 'I'm here about your new visitors.'
'Is that why you're angry?' Hamilton leaned back.
'No,' Jeremiah shook his head. 'I'm angry at us, and what Garcia managed to get away with.'
Alistar held out his hand, 'Let me see.' The room was quiet for several minutes as Hamilton read through the proposal. 'You're right,' he said disgustedly as he tossed the sheets back on the table. 'Did they sign it?' he asked suddenly.
'Not that I know of, sir,' the American admiral shook his head.
'Good. If they did, we wouldn't be able to do a damn thing,' Hamilton mused.
Jeremiah narrowed his eyes. 'What are you talking about?'
Alistar reached for the proposal again. 'I noticed,' he started while glancing through it, 'that we would "watch over" their technology to make sure it's not exploited.'
'The only people best suited for that job would be the Colonials themselves.'
'What type of infrastructure do they have left?' Hamilton handed the proposal back to Orbach.
The Admiral shook his head, 'From what I've found out, not much of one at the moment.'
'Which means they'll need people and maybe even a shipyard. If I can get the people here to invest in the Colonials it could easily revitalize our economy.' Hamilton opened up his computer writing program and started entering information into it. 'Money is another thing,' he muttered.
'Money? What do you mean by money?' Orbach leaned forward in interest.
'What type of monetary system do they have, and what is it called? I'll have to talk with their senior government officials to see if we can do something to make sure the money situation doesn't get out of hand.'
'I'm not sure of what they have. Are you talking about slaving the two systems together?' The conversation was quickly going over his head, but he did know about this.
Alistar nodded in approval, 'I didn't even think about that. That would be perfect. But, I think you're more interested in seeing what can be done with the two militaries.'
'You think right,' Orbach answered with a grin. 'Their pride means more than anything else, and from what little I've seen, the military is very important to them. They want to control it as much as possible. I intend to honor that.'
'Sir,' Alistar's senior aide stepped through the door. 'Admiral Jackson is here.'
'Send him in, Parker.'
The senior Pictavian military officer walked through the door a moment later. His natural skin color made his uniform seem whiter than it actually was. After a quick salute, he relaxed slightly.
'Admiral Jackson, Orbach and I were just discussing the issues that the refugees have created.' Alistar indicated another chair that was available.
'Yes, sir,' he answered and moved over to sit down. 'I've had my people monitoring the situation. With the exception of those two capital ships, they seem harmless enough.'
'What do you think of possibly creating a military alliance with them?'
Jackson barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes. 'They've only got, what, a couple thousand in their military? I don't see how that could happen.'
'Jackson, like it or not, it looks like they'll be here for some time. I want to be on good terms with them from the very beginning.'
'Admiral, I've talked to Captain O'Neill, and she's stated that their faster than light travel is completely different from ours. I would think it could be a boon for your people,' Orbach commented.
'It's also going to give me major headaches until everything is worked out.'
'Once word gets out, you'll be the envy of the Terran navy, because you will have direct access to the Colonial's FTL drive,' Alistar said with an amused look on his face.
Jackson looked from one to another for a moment, debating on whether he should take it or not. 'I'll take it, for now. Are my people going to have to learn their language?'
'You have no choice in the matter, Admiral. And your question about the language issues? At the moment, yes. We will tell the Colonials that it will be in their best interest for their military personnel to learn English. They'll be "encouraged" to learn the language since everything will be handled in English.'
'Good, it'll be hard enough as it is without the language barrier.'
Dr. Elizabeth Duncan rubbed her eyes tiredly. Ever since Captain O'Neill had taken that shot, she had been on the hunt for whatever it was that had altered her health. It had not been for her to have gone off and got the shots without notifying her beforehand. She had made her thoughts known emphatically when O'Neill had come back. O'Neill was her patient and not part of the refugees. No telling what the quality of their healthcare was.
Then there was this. Whatever it was that they had given her had taken care of her fibromyalgia. The sample she was looking at was of O'Neill's blood. There were some interesting things that hadn't been there before. But before she could do anything, she had to filter out all the known elements, which left her with what she was about to study.
'Let's see what we've got,' she muttered as she looked through the microscope. From there she introduced several known cancer cells. What shocked her was the speed with witch the unknown elements attacked the cancerous elements within the added cells. What was left in the end were several healthy cells, but with that odd signature. 'Oh my. . .' she sat back, stunned. This was not what she had been expecting to see. If those elements could eradicate cancer that quickly, it was only a short jump to other types of auto-immune problems. And if it could take care of fibromyalgia and cancer. . . 'The pharmaceutical companies will not be happy with this,' she muttered. 'They'll use every bit of power they have to squelch it. This will put them out of business.' Getting the information out was only going to happen if the refugees patented the product.
Duncan logged the information, then put the samples back in the freezer. The next step was to map the genome so the DNA could be cloned. That would only happen after she had spoken to the Captain, and possibly Admiral Orbach.
'Captain,' she acknowledged her as she stepped inside O'Neill's office.
'What do you have for me?'
'Other than still being angry about that procedure you had done without my consent? Yes, I have something for you.' Elizabeth sat down while looking at her notes.
'I'm never going to hear the end of it, am I?' Mair said tiredly.
'No you're not. I've told you before, it was foolish of you to do that. It could have killed you.' The silence between them was somewhat awkward before Duncan spoke again. 'What I've been able to find is something very interesting. I took a sample of your blood and removed all the known elements. It left me with something that looked quite odd.' She put a piece of paper on the desk. 'You will notice that it attacked cancerous cells quickly, leaving healthy ones behind. I'm surmising that it did the same thing with your own condition.' Duncan leaned back. 'The refugees need to patent this as soon as possible because the drug companies will not like it and try to silence the information.'
Mair glanced over the sheet before answering, 'Just the royalties alone would sustain any economy.'
'Definitely, which is why they need to know their options.'
'Who else knows about this?'
Elizabeth shook her head, 'Just me so far. I was using the military research facilities, and you know how they feel about leaks.'
"They're human."
"I don't think they would stay with them unless they were human," Doral answered.
"Look," Cavil pointed to the image laid out before them.
"So what, it's the same type of convoy we struck two days ago. If they're from what the Humans call the Lost 13th Colony --"
"They could be better with computers than any of us! We have to be careful. Look what happened last time," Sharon almost yelled at the others. "How long did it take to clean out the computer system?" she asked Cavil harshly. "I don't want that happening again."
"We shall infiltrate," Six said calmly. "We achieved our goal two years ago by infiltration," she left the comment hanging.
"Where's the closest convoy?" Cavil finally capitulated.
"Here," Doral projected an image of the ships before them. Like before, it had minimal protection, and even that ship wasn't considered 'heavy' by Colonial standards.
"Good. Prepare to jump," Cavil ordered.
"Just like that?" Three said in surprise.
"What else is there?"
"True." She paused before continuing, "Who will be going in?"
"Each of you," Cavil said to the female models, "will send one of your models into separate lifepods. Once there, there will be just enough life-support to keep them alive. When rescued, the programming will be buried and only activated when needed."
"It won't work," Sharon shook her head.
"Yes it will. After going through their computer database we will make sure that we choose one of their own. And if they speak another language, the model will be programmed to speak only that."
We should just leave them alone, Simon thought. He had been the one to work the hardest on removing the computer virus. It's only going to get worse.
The plan was executed without any problems. It was even better that the military vessel gave off a distress call. The Cylons put a homing beacon within the escape pod to see where it would be taken. Now they would wait.
TBC...
