Let me repeat the legal disclosure: I do not own any of the Battlestar Galactica character or story. This is creative work only and it is not published for financial gain.

Thank you so much for all of your reviews. They are very motivating and so keep on motivating me.

This is my busiest semester as we are finishing the academic year and my students are competing. I also work very hard these days to finish my curriculum and prepare the students for their final examinations. Having fallen sick, I had a little less time than usual to write, putting my work first.

No worries, once my academic work is done, I will have a bit more time to write. Please be patient. There will be some delays, but I am not dropping this story.

Chapter 36

Helena looked at the cylon's head with terror. It was one thing to read about them and quite another to face one. It took a few minutes for her to recover from the shock. And then, once she did, she addressed Elosha.

"Yes, Laura in her diaries talks about the cylons, mechanical machines. But there was another kind of cylon apparently, made out of flesh and looking human. She is very clear that the 'other kind' of cylon could have children with humans."

Elosha looked at her with alarm, her eyes widening in panic.

"No. That is not possible. There is only one kind of cylon. This is it. You must have made a mistake in your translation. Our scriptures never mention other human-like cylons"

She moved towards one part of the cave and pointed at the text.

"Look. It says right there: –The cylons moved away to another part of the universe, leaving humans on earth and children of the true and only God, the only God among the Gods. And the humans prospered. It is said that all of this has happened before and all of this will happen again. The cylons will come back- So we have been hiding for millennia."

Helena was puzzled and then it dawned on her. There were indeed discrepancies with survivors writing down a story transmitted over generations and generations. Biological cylons had merged with the human race and that bit of history was forgotten probably purposely to unify the group of survivors. They were now called children of God and their true origin was forgotten. Any bit of history had been embellished over thousands of years as it so often is. What was a gruesome history of war became a creation history: human life seeded from the stars, children of God or Gods descending on earth to create the human race. With that cylon head, they had confirmation of Laura's story. They also had another way to look at engineering, chemistry and new insights onto the origins of cylons. Helena decided not to confront Elosha on the 'biological cylons' just yet. From the unexpected genetic diversity she had witnessed in the village and the certainty that some biological cylons may have been able to reproduce with humans, the possibility that such cylons may have been part of the original surviving population was high. Clearly such a hypothesis would not be very popular. And before she came to shake up their belief system, Helena decided to err on the side of caution and let her college biologist, Evelyne, do her genetic investigation. Helena knew that Laura's diaries recounted the original story, precise and accurate. Anything written in the hundred years after Laura's death would have been embellished, modified and distorted. It certainly would provide important and much needed information, but it had to be considered within the context of the authors' life. Just like any religious text, it was also written with some political aim and could not be trusted to represent the exact reality. None of the survivors had read Laura's diaries. They had remained hidden for 150,000 years.

"Do you have anything text written by the original group of humans? The oldest text you have?" She asked Elosha who seemed relieved by the change of conversation.

"The older text we have is over there." She replied pointing at a far wall of the cave. She added: "I do not know if the text was written by the original settlers. It is barely readable."

Helena approached the cave wall, where she could barely distinguish marks in the stone. They looked indeed very old.

"With your permission, I would like to try and analyze this text and I am sure that my colleagues will want to study the cylon's head. Was there anything else in the crate?"

"You have my permission." Elosha nodded. "The crate is very old, and as far as I remember, it was always like this. I do not know when it was found and if there were other objects in it."

"Thank you" Helena whispered. The two women smiled at each other and started back to the village.

"The next few days were overwhelming. It was as if a shroud was enveloping all of us and all the lights had been dimmed. The death of Kara Thrace was very difficult for everyone. It was especially difficult for Bill, Lee and Anders, her husband. As much as I wanted to leave Bill with some space for grieving, I also wanted to show him my support. As I was busy with work, I called him at least once a day to make sure he was ok. Just to be there for him. Alan Hughes would be Baltar's attorney. I had interviewed him and his qualifications were impeccable. We had now a timeline for the trial. It would start exactly in two weeks. I loved working. It allowed me to forget I was dying. I would put that smiling mask of strength on my face, and go through the day. The educational reform was well underway and job rotations were continuing. Fortunately, we had not had any cylon encounter for a while and this quiet respite allowed us to regroup, implement those changes and start to see some improvement in the fleet's morale. The timeframe of the trial was released publicly and this prompted Dr. Cottle to give me a call.

'Madame President, I understand you want to hold off to the Doloxan treatment until you testify in the trial. But, you have enough time in two weeks to undergo oophorectomy and I really do not want to wait on this, as your ovarian tumor is very concerning to me.' He said firmly over the phone.

'Dr. Cottle what is the recovery time on this?'

'If you do it now before the tumor has a chance to grow, you will stay in sickbay only one day. We can remove the ovaries by laparoscopic surgery. Three incisions, one on each side and another one to insert a camera by your navel. We go in, do ligations of the blood vessels, separate the ovaries that go in a small pouch. They go out in a slightly bigger incision in your natural ways. Procedure takes about two hours, another couple of hours for recovery and you are resting for one day. The pain is minimal and in one week you will be perfectly fine. If we wait, the tumor will grow, it will start hurting and removing it will require a much bigger incision with a much longer recovery. Of course there is always the possibility that I will have to open you once I get there, if anything goes wrong or if the tumor is bigger than anticipated. However, I do not think that would be necessary.'

I closed my eyes, swallowed and breathed slowly out of my mouth.

'Alright, when you want to do it?'

'Tomorrow morning. No food or water after midnight.'

My breath caught in my chest. So soon! 'Dr. Cottle, it is essential that nobody sees me in sickbay. I am going to put a press release that I am getting dental work done. It is benign. Nobody will ask questions.'

I did not sleep during the night. This was happening too quickly. Already losing parts of my body, a little piece after piece! I knew the logic behind removing these tumors as quickly as possible. I knew it had to be done. I knew I could put a brave front to others. Inside myself, I was terrified."

"I left Colonial One very early the next day, very nervous about the surgery. Bill was waiting for my shuttle and we walked together silently to sickbay along empty corridors. I had packed a small bag with a change of clothes and Bill took it. He said that I would just spend the day recovering in his quarters. As I attempted to protest, he cut me short telling me that it was the best way to avoid rumors of my illness going around the fleet. Ishay and Dr. Cottle would perform the surgery early. I would be in the recovery room for a few hours and then they would move me to Bill's quarters, when I would be ready. I do not know what I would have done, if Bill had not been at my side. I was petrified by fear, heart pounding in my chest and feeling faint. After I was undressed and in a medical gown, he came back, sat next to me holding my hand, and Dr. Cottle placed the intravenous line on the other arm. Bill's eyes never left mine, supporting me silently. If anything was to happen to me, I wanted to remember his eyes. Dr. Cottle left and told me he would come back to take me to the operating room in a few minutes. I took deep breaths to calm down, while Bill was gently caressing the back of my hand with his thumb. When we heard Cottle coming back, he whispered, 'I'll see you soon' and bent to kiss me tenderly on my lips. Then, Cottle was there and I was rolled to the operating room. As soon as I got there, I saw Ishay push the anesthetic in the IV line and I lost consciousness, as if a black curtain had been suddenly drawn. I heard noises first, as if they were drilling into my peaceful sleep, the regular beep of the medical monitor. My body was numb and I felt as if I was wrapped in a large cotton ball. No pain. Nothing indeed. I tried to open my eyes and I realized the lights had been lowered. Then I saw Bill, looking at me worried.

'Hey…' he said and smiled.

I tried to smile back. I was very drowsy. I just looked in Bill's eyes. I heard Cottle talk to me.

'The procedure went well. No complications. We will have your ovaries examined in pathology. I am glad I performed this because there was another very small and previously undetected tumor on the right ovary. You can rest here and sleep for a while. We are giving you pain killers in the IV. Once we check on the incisions and we see that you are healing, we will bring you to Admiral Adama's quarters.'

I nodded and closed my eyes. I felt a kiss on my forehead. I do not know how long I slept for, but when I woke up I felt a lot better. Ishay came to remove my bladder's catheter and check my incisions and she helped me get up for a few wobbly steps. I would lie if I said it did not hurt; yet the pain was a lot less than I expected. I felt a little gassy and bloated, which I was assured was normal. I rested for a little while more, while I was getting hydrated with the IV. And then Ishay helped me up to use the bathroom.

'Congratulations,' she said, 'your vitals are normal and you can get up on your own now. You can use the bathroom without issue. It is important you walk a little bit every few hours and take nice and deep breaths. This will avoid any blood clot problems. I say you are good to go.'

I dressed in comfortable clothes, t-shirt and light sweat pants, and Dr. Cottle had me sit in a wheelchair, as he refused to let me walk all the way to Bill's quarters. 'Too far,' he grumbled. I do not know if they cleared the corridors for me, but I did not see anyone on the way, which was unusual especially for late morning. Bill welcomed me with warmth and both men helped me lay down in bed. The room had been cleaned up from the shattered pieces of wood and the broken boat model lay on a back shelf. I wondered if it could be fixed.

Dr. Cottle continued: 'I want you in bed until tomorrow morning. You can get up to use the bathroom. Take short walks every few hours. Light food and a lot of fluids. If you rest, you will recover a lot faster. Think of it as a little vacation.' I snorted when I heard Cottle say this. 'Take your painkillers as needed but no more than four pills per day. If anything happens, fever, chills, unbearable pain, you call immediately. I will check your incisions tomorrow morning.' Dr. Cottle turned to Bill, 'you better let her rest', he said sternly. He was about to leave, when he turned and said pointing to both of us,

'And no intercourse for at least two weeks… I can't believe I have to say that.'

'Thank you, doctor' I said to him, snorting and unable to stop myself from rolling my eyes. He left grumbling and closed the hatch behind him. Bill poured a glass of water, which he left for me on the stand by the rack.

Bill sat down on the edge of the bed.

'How are you doing?' he said to me concerned.

'Well. I will not say it's not painful, and whatever Cottle is giving me is taking the edge off. I am tired though.'

'Are you hungry?'

'A little bit' I said.

'I will order some soup and noodles for you. And then you can sleep through the afternoon and night.'

'How are you, Bill?' I took his hand in mine, thinking of his grief and remembering the drunk and sobbing man I tried to comfort a few days ago.

'I always think that I can get used to this type of pain, but the fact is, you don't get used to it. It hurts. I know she is gone. I still have not accepted it. I will have to get up every morning and I think I am going to hear about some kind of stunt she pulled and that got her in trouble. Then I realize it will not happen ever again.' His eyes filled with tears. I wondered if he even remembered I comforted him that night.

'You know, Bill, when my sisters and father died, I thought I would never survive it. They were killed in a car accident. My oldest sister was eight months pregnant. The police came to find me the day after her baby shower. They never made it home. I felt as if my whole body was engulfed in pain. It hurt to move, it hurt to breathe. I cried and then I could not cry anymore. The pain was very raw. My mind felt dissociated from my body. I was empty, walking around not even realizing what I was doing. Even days later, I broke down in the oddest places, like at the supermarket while grocery shopping, when I saw by accident baby products. My apartment in Caprica City was empty. There was only silence and I wanted only silence. I could not tolerate music, or any kind of noise. I did not turn on the television or the radio for days. I had stopped living. It doesn't go away, Bill. You just learn to live with it. Then you go back and you survive one hour at a time, one day at a time and then one week at a time. It's not getting worse or easier with time, it just becomes different.'

Bill was quietly crying, listening to me.

'A friend set me up with a date. She thought it would be good for me to go out. I was working a lot, because when I work, I don't think about anything else. I'm completely focused on the tasks I'm doing. So I was working, and I was eating and sleeping. I wasn't really living. I agreed to meet this guy, Sean... hum. That was his name. And then, I realized he must have been at least twenty years younger than me. As a matter of fact, he had been one of my students, when he was in high school and I was a young teacher barely out of graduate school. That was before I went back and got my doctorate in school administration and leadership. Can you imagine?' He started to chuckle at my confession, wiping his earlier tears.

'What did you do?' He said laughing.

'He brought me nice flowers. We went out for drinks and had dinner. He was very charming. He brought me back to my place and we had sex. It was just a release. Then after, I realized that I had to stop living like this. What was I doing? I was ashamed and disgusted at myself. I could not have a relationship with him. I did not love him, of course. He was sweet and I was really brutal with him, as I dismissed him. I hurt him, because I wanted to hurt myself. I was not well emotionally at the time. That night I called to join Adar's campaign. I wanted to make my life useful and stop drifting like a boat taken in a storm. The pain did not stop; it became a source of power for me. It became my anchor.'

He nodded and looked at me, holding my hand. I continued.

'We all handle grief differently. That does not make it worse or better. Just take your time, Bill, don't bottle it up; let your pain express itself. Look at her pictures; take the time to remember her. Give her a decent farewell.'

'Thank you,' he whispered and he bent over to kiss me. We heard a knock on the hatch and he went to retrieve our food. After placing the trays on the side table, he helped me sit up and put my tray on my lap. He sat nearby in a chair and ate as well. When we were done, he placed the trays out."

"I fell asleep almost immediately after eating. When I woke up, it was the evening. Bill was seating at his desk, writing reports. It was quiet. The pain was starting to come back. I needed my medication.

'Bill.' I called softly. 'I need to use the bathroom and then I need to take my medication'

He stood up immediately, worried. 'How bad is the pain?'

'I guess the painkillers have worn off. Not great. I just need… to take the pills." The pain shot through my abdomen as I sat up in the bed. He handed me my pills and the water. Then he helped me out of the rack and walking, as I wobbled my way to the head. And while I was washing and changing into pajamas, he changed as well. I went back to the rack. I saw him starting to lie down on the sofa.

'You are not going to sleep there, Bill?' I called out to him.

'I don't want to hurt you.'

'You won't hurt me. Come on.' I waved him over. He relented and lay next to me on the far side by the wall. I shifted to lie on his side and he was so cautious not to touch my abdomen where the incisions were. He wrapped his arm around my shoulder and I cradled my head in his neck, breathing in the scent that was uniquely him.

'This is it, Bill' I whispered. He tightened his embrace a bit more. 'This is it. The cancer will take my body one piece at a time. I lost my ovaries, what makes me a woman. The children, I never had.' I felt a tear rolling down my cheek onto his neck. 'How are you going to deal with this, Bill?' my tone hitched up. 'I'm going to get so sick. You have no idea, how sick, I'm going to get… I saw my mother die from it.'

He sighed, 'I'll be ok.'

'No, you won't. I came by the day Kara died, in the evening, after you broke your model ship. Do you remember?'

'I thought it was a dream' he whispered back, his voice breaking with emotion.

'I was there. It wasn't a dream.'

He kissed the top of my head, then my forehead and my temples wet from my tears. He did not reply. I started to feel tired again. I wanted to talk more, but my eyelids were getting heavy. I relented into sleep.

'Go to sleep. Wake me up if you need anything,' He murmured and dropped another kiss on my shoulder, before he covered both of us with the blanket."

"The next morning, Dr. Cottle came to evaluate me and he said I was healing well. Bill gave us privacy when he carefully inspected my incisions and changed the dressings. My incisions were clean with little redness and no signs of infection. He gave me an appointment to return and see him in a few days, and additional medication. After he left, I got dressed. The pain had already started to recede. It was present, but dull. I just had to be careful not to move too quickly. Getting up and sitting down was painful, but once I was seated or when I was standing I was fine, and I could walk easily. Bill wrapped his arms around my torso and he embraced me tight. Without a word, we kissed and he took my arm to lead me to shuttle bay.

'Take it easy.' He said with a gentle smile as the raptor door was closing. I nodded. And just like that I went back to Colonial One."

This is a slight departure from the original story. However, knowing how fast the cancer progressed over season 4, I realized it must have been caught quite late and extended. Being a biologist by training, I am going to attempt to write it as accurately as possible.

Thank you for reading. Please leave me some comments, concerns or questions. Feedback is important to me.