Kestra's chest heaved as she sat behind the freight in the heavy raider. The seconds raced by as she drew closer to the base ship. Her head pounded and her ears rang as her panic increased. She mentally berated herself as she dwelt on her rash decision making and half baked plan. She knew Lee would be furious at the danger she was putting herself in, among other things. No doubt the cylons would approach her presence with as much tact as their human counterparts had. She had to come up with a way to make them listen to her. Her first thought was of the six model she had previously spoken with. She had an inkling of what Kestra was, she was sure. She could convince them that Kestra was a neutral party in this conflict. Though that wasn't entirely true either, she was the best chance they had at ending this war without further loss of life. It occurred to Kestra for the first time on the heavy raider back to the base ship, that the cylons might not want to end this war without loss of life. After all, what did they have to lose when they could regenerate after every death? Perhaps they were happy to continue the bloodshed until they'd eradicated the human race. Her panic only increased. She truly hadn't thought this through. The ship around her groaned and finally landed with a bang. She was jostled from her position and quickly scrambled back behind the boxes that concealed her position for the time being. Whatever reservations she had, she was here now and she had to try. Even if the cylons were determined to fight until the last human life she would die knowing that she tried. It was more than she could say for the rest of the human race. The hatch opened and light streamed into the raider. Kestra stayed low in the shadows as centurions marched off into the unknown beyond where Kestra could see. She craned her head around the box tentatively and squinted as the harsh light attacked her eyes. She could see nothing over the metal backs of the cylon's soldiers.
Voices seeped through the obstructions, but she couldn't make out any words. All she knew was that if she gave herself away now there was someone on the other side to catch her. She considered it, knowing that eventually she would have to talk to the cylons to fulfill her purpose being here. However, if she was found out now they might suspect foul play from Adama or Roslin. Maybe she could find that six first, so that she could assure her that she wasn't a spy. It was a long shot but the hope of a warm welcome, well warmer than she'd get from the rest of them, was enough to make the decision for her. She waited until the voices disappeared to make her move. Unfortunately, that was when the centurions began unloading the raider. She dove behind another box as the one she was perched behind was lifted away. If she was going to make a move it had to be now. She crept as close to the hatch as she could without leaving the cover of the supplies still stacked in front of her. The centurions entered one at a time and she could still see the backs of those beyond the hatch. She could only think of one way out and it was a stretch. When the next centurion entered, she waited until it had retrieved its box and when it had turned around to leave she jumped up and followed silently behind it. The centurion walked boldly out into the sea of its brethren. Kestra tried to slip past the centurion but found that there were cylons around every corner. She dove behind a pile of boxes she presumed had been unloaded from the heavy raiders. She cowered behind them praying to any god that would listen that they wouldn't be moved and she would remain unseen. She sat with her legs hugged close to her chest and little by little she heard footsteps leaving the hangar until the room grew eerily silent. Still wary of discovery, Kestra remained hidden for hours… a day… she couldn't quite tell. Her muscles had grown stiff and she doubted she'd be able to stand even if she tried. Eventually, she had to move or she feared she would remain behind these boxes forever. Slowly she stood and peered around the hangar to find it completely empty. She crept out into the open, wincing as her legs stretched out and acclimated to walking again. Kestra found an empty corridor and wandered down it. As she walked she became acutely aware of the fact that the sleek corridors provided nowhere to hide if she ran into a cylon, yet she had not encountered anyone. Just as she was beginning to wonder if the entire ship had been abandoned, she was proven wrong.
Kestra rounded a corner and was stopped by a startled cry. She stumbled back as she came face to face with a number eight. Both women were frozen in shock. Unwilling to turn their backs on each other, they simply stared in silence. Kestra saw the eight falter backwards as if to run away and knew she needed to do something.
"Please!" The eight froze again and looked curiously at her. Before either of them could make another move, a four came around the corner behind Kestra. Kestra saw as the eight's face harden and she pulled out a weapon as she addressed her comrade.
"I found this human spy wandering the base ship," she reported emotionlessly. The four stepped into view so now Kestra could see his glare as he spoke.
"There may be others," he observed, "take her to the control center." The eight nodded as she nudged Kestra forward with the end of her blaster. They walked silently down pristine corridors. It was a jarring departure from the dingy corridors aboard Galactica. Kestra's heart beat wildly in her chest the farther they traveled. What had started as a half baked plan to begin with now felt like a hopeless suicide mission. What had she really hoped to accomplish here? Her experience on New Caprica gave her no pastel illusions about the cylons desire for peace. She knew that the prejudice she found in humans would be mirrored by the cylons. Why should they listen to her when the people she loved wouldn't? Sam nearly had. Maybe if she could get just a handful to listen, then they could reach out to the handful of humans who were willing. It would be difficult, but a revolution can start small. Kestra began to realize two things as she was led into a large, open portion of the ship. One, that the peace she had experienced in her life could not have come as ethically as she imagined it did. These people were no different from those she'd grown up among. Circumstances had forced them to do things she'd never dreamed of doing to another person. The room was filled with panels of glowing blue lights and some unknown liquid that covered those panels. Many different cylon models milled about, their hands resting in the liquid, their eyes focused ahead. She locked eyes with a number one who narrowed his eyes as he gestured to a few others nearby. One of each cylon model, it seemed, strode forward and peered suspiciously at their new guest. The second thing Kestra realized was that it was unlikely that she would live to see the peace she dreamed of for these two races.
"Who is this?" Kestra's blood went cold under the one's calculating gaze.
"A spy," the eight that had brought her here replied dutifully. Eyebrows raised curiously at this introduction. Kestra could see the eyes of nearly every cylon on the Base Star's bridge glancing her way, unable to conceal their curiosity.
"A spy," the one mused, "how did it get here?" The eight was silent and so the one finally addressed Kestra. "How?"
"I am not a spy," she said as evenly as she could. Scoffs and distrustful looks filled the room. "I spoke to one of the sixes on New Caprica," she continued, "she said that you wanted peace. Was that true?" Eyebrows furrowed in confusion or thoughtfulness, Kestra couldn't tell. All she could be certain of was the twitch of a smile at the corner of the one's mouth.
"Perhaps… at one time," he drawled, "but a lot has happened since." Not a good sign. This One appeared to be the leader of the cylons, though some of the other models seemed less than pleased with the way he took charge of the situation.
"Can I speak to her?" Kestra ventured, knowing it was the only way to accomplish what she'd come here to do. She was answered with silence. "Is there any way you can find her?" She truly didn't know how the cylons operated, how they differentiated one from another. It was clear that each cylon was an individual yet they had no names to separate members of the same model.
"Just toss her out the airlock," a two chimed in carelessly. This opened the floodgates for the other models to express their opinions in the handling of this situation.
"We must discover how she came aboard first," Four reasoned.
"The airlock is too quick. We can gain more from her if we lock her up," Five said.
"Keeping her aboard may be useful," Six agreed.
"It could be dangerous," Eight said, "who knows what she could send back to the human fleet."
"Humans don't have the technology to infiltrate our fleet," Five said hastily.
"Then how is she here?" Six asked pointedly. The eight behind Kestra shifted uncomfortably as they argued. Kestra watched the one as he appraised his comrades. He did not seem disturbed by the bickering at all, which only further unsettled Kestra. While they were debating he was watching… calculating.
"Maybe we should find out more before we make a decision," Six suggested.
"Indeed," One was quick to chime in. His eyes locked on Kestra now with a curious grin. Kestra didn't need to be an empath to know what he was doing. He waited until one of the other models came up with his own favored plan so that when he took charge it would look like he was collaborating with them. He was very clever, she had to admit, and she realized that he would be the biggest obstacle in her efforts to create peace. One had a very clear purpose and a cunning mind with which to accomplish it. She tensed as his eyes bored through her flesh and attempted to unseal her mind. She remembered her encounter with the six on New Caprica and resolved to hide her abilities until they became necessary for her survival as she predicted they might.
"What is she doing here?," One pulled her from her thoughts with his sharp voice and penetrating gaze. She realized the question was aimed at her though it was phrased in the third person.
"To bring peace," she said simply. It would be best to keep her answers short while the cylons were so wary of her.
"Peace?" he asked, disinterested, "how noble."
"More human lies," Five claimed unmoved.
"We should at least listen to what she had to say," Six argued.
"We already tried it," Four chimed in, "it didn't work. What could this human possibly have to make us try that again?"
"Have the humans sent you to surrender?" Eight asked. Kestra shook her head.
"No," she said tentatively, "they are as skeptical of peace as you are. I came to beg you to reconsider and sue for peace with the humans."
"You want us to surrender?" Five asked incredulously. The other models scoffed in derision but One just stared at her with the same unsettling smirk.
"No," she emphasized, "I want you to talk with them." Again, the cylons were doubtful.
"It is a pathetic excuse to come aboard and steal information about our fleet," Four posited. The others nodded in agreement.
"I still say we throw her out the airlock," Two said, a suggestion the others now seemed more inclined to heed. Humans and cylons were indeed very much alike. The same suspicions and prejudices existed here as she'd seen in the human fleet. Her pursuit would be no easier here than it had been onboard Galactica. She suddenly found that she missed Lee immensely and regretted ever leaving him. She couldn't imagine what he must think of her now. A traitor. Or perhaps he believed her dead.
"Let's use their spy against them," Six argued, "they sent her here to learn information about us, so why shouldn't we use her to learn about them. We can finally end this war." This suggestion also saw some interest from the other models.
"Keeping her here would be more work than it's worth," Five argued, "we already have the humans on the run. This one can't give us any more than we already know from Baltar." The mention of Baltar made Kestra's blood boil but she had to look past her hatred of the man to survive.
"Let me talk to him then," she suggested, "he knows the six I was talking about." Four scoffed as he approached her.
"Baltar is back with his own people as is Caprica Six," he sneered, "so you see, human, all your allies seem to be on the other side of this war. You are alone here." The breath left her lungs. Caprica Six, so that's what they called her, was with the human fleet. If she'd waited one more day she could have been safe on Galactica and had a new opportunity to convince them of the possibility for peace.
"Alone?" she said absently. Thinking about it logically, she'd been alone on Galactica as well. She was alone in this galaxy, the one of her kind.
"Yes, human, do you see the folly of your plan now?"
"Human?" She was barely paying attention to the cylons now, lost in her own thoughts and emptiness.
"Your name is of little consequence. Human will do."
"She's not a human." Kestra's head snapped toward the voice. The eight that had brought her in was staring at her expressionless. How did she know?
"What do you mean by that Boomer?" One asked. It was the first time Kestra had heard genuine curiosity in his voice. This new development was worth his attention.
"Caprica Six told me," Boomer said evenly, "she met a human who wasn't human. An alien." When Kestra looked back at the other cylons all eyes were on her.
"Well that changes things," One said, coming too close to Kestra for comfort. He ran a finger down the side of her cheek. "Boomer, take her to a holding cell." None of the other models argued as Boomer led Kestra from the control center out into a corridor. Kestra's mind raced as she was led through the endless corridors.
"There can never be peace between humans and cylons," Boomer said in the same measured tone as before, breaking the silence. Kestra turned to look at her though Boomer remained staring ahead down the corridor.
"Caprica Six said that the two of you wanted peace," she replied cautiously.
"We did, but it didn't work," Boomer replied.
"Because you tried to control them. If you would just talk to the humans. Figure out how to live with them."
"I did live with them," she said, and for the first time her voice betrayed her emotions. "But now I'm the enemy." Kestra felt pity for Boomer as a door opened in front of them.
"You don't have to be," she said as Boomer led her into a room with only a cot in the corner. "I could get them to listen to you. You could reason with them." Boomer glared at her as she stood in the doorway.
"Humans are not reasonable. Machines are." With that, the door shut and Kestra was left alone.