Here we go, let's go into part 3. Thank you to all who have left some reviews and thoughtful comments.

This chapter is rated M, for some New Caprican detention recollections.

PART THREE: The Villages.

Chapter 23

It was wonderful to be in the air and seeing the mountains from above. The UN troops brought the team two large helicopters, one of them to load all of the supplies, the other for the staff and their personal belongings. The mountains, with their dense dark forests, were forbidding. Clouds were sticking to the trees with a ghostly appearance. The team landed at the hamlet of Bunduki, a small village with a few houses, high on the slopes of the mountain range. The ground was rust powdery red. Several cultivated fields, farms and dirt roads were going down to the plains. The mountains were wrapped in a shroud of clouds and fog in the background. In Bunduki, the team rested and took a meal with the local population, which welcomed them in a small inn. They enjoyed a meal with rice with pieces of meat and cassava fries, which were crisp and tasty. The mountain guide joined the group. Helena expected an older man to be their guide, having heard that the esteemed and renowned guide had become the critical link between the Tanzania government, the UNESCO and UN, and the villages' chiefs to allow exploration of these forbidden areas. Instead she was surprised, when a young woman introduced herself as their guide and liaison, Sharon. Sharon must have been in her thirties. She was tall, with very dark skin and features unmistakably Asian and uncharacteristically curly hair brought up in a high ponytail. She was athletic and dynamic, bringing with her a large topographic map, which she unfolded onto the large wooden table. Dr. Inoue introduced her as a local personality with tremendous influence in that society: a representative of the villages and a guide, which could translate their language. Some troops of the UN peacekeepers would tag along with us, offering protection, and local men were recruited and paid to carry some of the load on the hike.

"We have to head south along that ridge. The terrain is not easy. It will take longer with all the supplies we have to carry. We all are staying together. We will set up camp for the night here" She pointed a clearing on the map. "We have to make it before night fall, that is one of the few places where we can safely stop".

Helena approached the map:

"Where is our final destination?"

Sharon pointed a location pretty high on the slopes, reaching the topographic line of 2000m. "Our valley is here. There are thirteen villages scattered in the valley a couple of hours walking from each other. Each village has a chief and all the chiefs meet regularly in a council to debate and make important decisions for the valley. It is a very democratic process."

Helena whispered to Takashi Inoue: "Thirteen!" and then to Sharon, "How long has this tradition of debating issues between villages taken place?"

Sharon looked surprised by her question. "Well, it has always been that he said shrugging.

"Does this council have a name?" Dr. Inoue asked

"Yes. We call it The Quorum." Sharon replied intrigued by that line of questioning.

Helena shook her head fighting back tears and covering her mouth in emotion: "Oh my God, we are in the right place!"

She knew that talking with Sharon would have to wait if they wanted to make it at the first camp before the night. After their meal, all of them grabbed their backpacks, and started the long ascent along the ridge.

"That day on Galactica, I had other plans as well. When I was invited for that meeting with Bill, I also made an appointment with Dr. Cottle. I had not seen him since our rescue and I missed him. With the events on the planet, we had become quite close. Bill looked surprised that I asked him time to go over to sickbay, but he did not question it, which is something I was grateful for. Cottle knew me right. It seems I did not have to explain myself.

'How are you doing, young lady? Not sleeping?'

'How do you know?'

'You think you are the first one coming here with posttraumatic stress disorder? Everyone, who was on New Caprica, is suffering from trauma related distress. Not quite surprising.' He reached out for his cigarette.

'I still can't remember what happened in detention.' I mumbled. 'It seems right there, elusive, just out of reach, at the border of my memory.' I started pacing. 'It is driving me crazy. I thought my memories would start coming back with time, but they didn't. It is like something horrible happened to me and I can feel it, but it is also missing, as if part of my life had been robbed from me.'

'Do you have any memories at all?'

'Not more that those I had when I got out and you examined me. Just glimpses. Of course, I remember my arrival there, the beginning of the first detention and Cavil's abuse. Then flashes of light, screams, loud noises… hands. Nothing more. You saw the scars on my back. I just cannot remember where they came from. How could I have forgotten this?'

'Your mind shut down to protect you. It is a classical defense mechanism. You forgot, what was unbearable.'

There was a long silence, while I tried to comprehend what was happening to me.

Then I asked the question that was burning me for weeks now, since the detention.

'Are you completely sure I was not raped?'

He took a couple of puffs on his cigarette, avoiding my eyes.

'Well, there was no physical evidence of rape, when I examined you both times after detention. To be precise, there were no signs of sexual violence, bruising, or abrasions. Of course, an exam never rules it out completely, especially if the rape happened right at the beginning of the detention, as time tends to erase evidence. But I find it very unlikely. You were beaten up pretty badly, if there had been a rape, I probably would have seen it too. Still, you had been in detention in both instances for days, time tends to erase evidence. But some of the other women I examined had very clear signs of rape'

I winced at his explanation, feeling blood draining from my face and getting lightheaded. I could not prevent my limbs from shaking. I sat down on the examination table, fearing I would fall.

'Dr. Cottle, there is a marine, who witnessed it. He came to me and apologized. I need to talk to him, without anyone finding out. I need to know what happened there.'

He looked at me for a moment, hesitant. He asked me who he was and he picked up the handset, summoning the private to sick bay. A few minutes later, when the young man came into Dr. Cottle's office, he was petrified to see me there.

'Madame President', he said, clearly scared.

'I asked Dr. Cottle to bring you here, because I would like to ask you a few questions.' I said softly, feeling his anguish. He looked down, staring at his feet, unable to meet my gaze.

'I want to know what happened when I was in detention.'

He started shaking in panic, looking around as if he was going to run for an escape. He was so young. Almost like Billy. He had not really lived yet, and he had already been destroyed inside.

'Madame President, please.' he begged.

'You do not understand', I said gently, 'I am not trying to humiliate you.' My voice broke down. 'I cannot remember half of it. I just cannot remember. I am lacking these memories. I cannot move forward without them.'

He hesitated, looking at Cottle for help. Cottle shook his head, puffing on his cigarette. 'You've got to tell her. What ever it takes.'

He swallowed hard and timidly started.

'They made you undress and Cavil tried to rape you. I am so sorry.'

'I remember that part.'

I whispered, shaking. I closed my eyes and turned around to face the wall. I could not bear to see his face. He had the compassionate courtesy not to elaborate further.

'Then they left you several days alone. You were dehydrated. We brought some water and food for you. But you were getting sick from the food. I do not know what that was. What I think is that they may have drugged your food or water. One day, we came and you were delirious, talking nonsense. There was something wrong. I got concerned. You were calling him.'

'Who, who was I calling?' I whispered, in a breath, clenching my fists in a mix of anger and pain, my nails digging in the palm of my hand. He had witnessed me at my weakest moment, during unguarded suffering, when drugs and torture violated my mind. The pain prevented me from screaming at him, from turning around and having him thrown out into an airlock. I had to listen to him, what ever he said. I had to stop shaking.

'The Admiral. You were calling the Admiral. A Cavil came by and interrogated you. He asked you questions about the resistance, about the plans they had. He asked the same thing, again and again and again. It did not matter what you answered or whether your answers were completely incoherent. You are a symbol to the people, to the resistance. So you were a target. He wanted to break you. You cried, when he told you the Admiral was dead and no one was coming. When he told you, you were going to die soon, you spit at him and yelled 'good', as if your life meant nothing to you.'

'It didn't' I interrupted.

'He became furious at your resistance and your stubbornness.' He added as if to make me responsible for the torture I endured. Was that the ultimate justification? Stubbornness? I was beaten because I was stubborn?

'Cavil screamed like an enraged dog and tore your jumpsuit away, removed his leather belt and started to whip you with it, hitting you with the metallic buckle. I do not know for how long, lashes after lashes, until your skin broke and your lower back and hips started to bleed. I thought he was going to kill you right there with his bare hands. When you passed out, he continued lashing you, until a Six got him out of there. They left you out on the floor, naked and bleeding. The Six came back a bit later -you were still unconscious- and washed the blood away and cleaned the wounds. She gave you something to drink when you regained consciousness. She helped you put your prison jumpsuit back on. Then, later a D'Anna came. I did not know what she wanted, until she started to ask questions about the cylon baby, where it was and if it was alive. You just said 'the baby is dead'. So she got angry and screamed 'this is not true'. When you continued to repeat that the baby was not alive anymore, she gave up and left your cell. You collapsed on the ground; blood was soaking through the fabric of the jumpsuit. We tried to give you immediate care and we fed you. A couple of days after this, you got a fever, you were hot, clammy and shivering, your wounds were infected. The cylons did not know, but in truth, nobody wanted to see you dead. We did what we could to help. Jammer talked to a Six about your condition and she came. She kept your wounds clean and brought some medication that she made you take, probably antibiotics. Still your gaze was vacant. You did not look at us; you did not talk. Sometimes you cried a little. They came back one more time; Cavil and Doral interrogated you again. Your answers did not matter. They beat you one more time, reopening the barely healed wounds from before. They hosed you with cold water and left you in the cold cell.'

I had the sudden flashback of water, cooling me, soothing my skin, taking pain away. He continued.

'The cylons, especially Cavil, encouraged guards to rape you, but nobody dared to touch you. Most chose to ignore you. I know the Six was furious that you were mistreated. I overheard loud arguments between her and Cavil, where she argued that President Baltar did not want to see you dead. You were unresponsive, just a shadow, and I thought your mind was gone. When we thought they were going to let you die, a Six came to help you, dressed you, fed you warm food and gave you water. She gave you a blanket, medications and handed us a bottle of antibiotics to treat you. We were continuing to give you antibiotics and a few days later, you got better and seemed to regain your spirit. I think the drugs they gave you cleared your system and you became more like yourself. I did not know how strong you were. After that they stopped coming. Without any particular reason, they released you.' He remained silent for a few minutes, looking distraught. 'Madame President, please forgive me. We did not know what we were doing. We were caught in this, we wanted the bombings to stop and were ready to use anything to extract information on the resistance. We just wanted to be in peace.'

'Peace?' I turned towards him. 'Peace?' I repeated. 'Why don't you ask all of those who died in the cylon jails what they think about your peace?' Suddenly, I saw his look. I saw how young he was, just a kid, who knew nothing, who had not lived long enough to know the difference, who wanted his corner of blue sky. Just a kid! Kids thrown into war, who knew nothing else but violence.

'What did you tell the Admiral?' I said, calmer at my realization of his most helpless youth.

'Madam, I just told him you were in detention and interrogated. I did not tell him anything else.' He stumbled a little. 'I know… I mean… you probably did not want him to know.'

'What happened the second time, I was in detention?' I asked anxious.

'The second time was not nearly as bad. We had direct orders from President Baltar not to hurt you. The Six must have told him what happened. Nobody touched you the second time.'

'Thank you… Go. Leave now' I said, before I would collapse in distress. I remained very tall and straight until he departed the room and I was left alone with Dr. Cottle, who was unusually quiet. I even did not want to look at him. We had been close on New Caprica. The horrors of the cylons cells were really nothing new; we had seen plenty of victims of torture.

'Let me take care of this.' I startled when he gently pulled my fist open, as I did not hear him come close to me. I realized I had cut the palm of my hands with my nails. He wiped it clean with gauze and put antibiotic ointment on it and a bandage. It was really nothing, a small comfort, yet it nearly broke me down. Cottle hugged me.

'It is over now. Time to move on.' We looked at each other for a minute in silence. He knew I had to be the president again and my own feelings had to stay buried deep. I could not function if I was broken. Indeed the cylons had not broken me despite their tries. I had not given them Hera, the cylon baby. I had not given them anything. I came out of this stronger. I nodded. I finally reached the closure I needed. I wanted to be alone. Cottle, as always, understood me before I even uttered the words and he left to attend to other patients, while I composed myself. When he came back, I was again the president, the mask put right back in its place."

Thank you for reading. Please review :) .

It may take a little longer to update, since I have to take my students to competitions next weekend. Very busy week indeed.