CHAPTER NINE
Trepidation
Battlestar Galactica
In orbit around Jupiter
Adama hadn't made it over to this section of the ship since they found Earth. The room that had once been designated Weapons Locker 1701 was in a nearly-forgotten corner of Galactica, and suited its new purpose much better than its old. It had been converted in light of more recent events, and while it was not exactly a holding cell, the coded entry, surveillance cameras, and round-the-clock guard kept anything unauthorized from getting in or out. Behind the hatch dwelt someone who had been many things to Adama in the last four years: enemy, prisoner, ally, and now, in a strange way, something like family.
"At ease," Adama told the on-duty guard, and began entering the access code. "Shut the hatch behind me. I need to speak with her in private." The lock disengaged, and he tapped on the door. "This is Admiral Adama. May I come in?"
"Of course, Admiral," remarked a female voice from the other side.
As ordered, the guard closed the door behind Adama as he stepped into the room. The former weapons locker looked more like a studio apartment now. There was a bed in one corner, a couch, a bathing area partitioned off from the rest of the room, rugs covering the cold metal floor, even a kitchen. Laying down on one of the rugs, smiling as she played with a small baby, was the Cylon known as Caprica Six.
"Good evening, Admiral," the Cylon said to Adama's back; he had walked over to the wall to power down the security cameras. She surmised that this was going to be a conversation he didn't want anyone else knowing about. "Look, Jericho, it's Uncle Bill!"
Adama was still getting used to the idea of being called "Uncle Bill," especially by a Cylon, but if he was going to be anyone's uncle, it was only fitting that it would be Saul Tigh's son. "How are you two? Have you been treated well?" Caprica elected to stay aboard Galactica of her own free will after the final battle, wanting to give birth and go through her son's infancy among humans, who knew far more about children than Cylons did. The guards, locks, and cameras were more for her protection than that of the humans aboard the ship.
"We're fine, Admiral," she answered. "You left for Earth this afternoon, didn't you?"
"Yes, and it didn't go as planned."
When he turned around, she was able to see his swollen, still-bleeding eye, and she gasped. "Let me help you." She picked up her son as she stood, laid him on his back on the bed, then retrieved a cloth from a cupboard in her kitchen. "What happened down there?" she asked as she walked over to Adama.
"Long story short, they tried to kill us. They didn't succeed, obviously, but they captured one of our pilots, and Tom Zarek took a bullet in the shoulder protecting the president," said Adama. "It's a nonlethal wound, but he may lose some control of his arm if it isn't treated quickly."
"Where's the basestar?" Caprica asked. "I can't feel its presence anymore."
"It's still near Earth, as far as we know," Adama answered. He and Caprica sat down on the couch, and she began dabbing at his wound with her cloth. "Athena is with it. The Celestial Mariner had to make a quick getaway, and there wasn't time to confirm with Athena. Galactica's contacting her, and she should be returning to the fleet soon, which is where you come in."
"What do you want me to do?"
"Athena needs to participate in our debrief aboard Galactica, and Zarek is going to stay under surveillance here until Doc Cottle says otherwise. I need you monitor the Fate's Embrace and make sure it won't jump away until Zarek is able to resume his post."
"What about Jericho?" The Six briefly stopped tending Adama's wound as she looked over at her son. "I don't know what being on a basestar will do to him, psychologically."
"I agree that it probably isn't a good idea to take him aboard one just yet, and I won't force you to do this," Adama said. "If you accept, I'll see that someone I trust watches him." She did nothing other than stare at him with those large, curious eyes, and he added, "Please, Caprica."
She didn't answer him right away. The Cylon closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, it wasn't William Adama sitting before her: it was Gaius Baltar. She reached for the face she once loved so deeply, and her heart ached of longing for him and the child she'd prayed he would give her. What once was love turned sour as she recalled what became of her relationship with him. He was so arrogant, so flawed, so cowardly, so... human.
She blinked again, and Gaius was replaced with the proud but conflicted image of Saul Tigh. Caprica wasn't sure how to place her feelings for Tigh. She'd counseled him, challenged him, forced him to delve into the deepest depths of his humanity, only to learn he was a Cylon as well. She was well aware that he didn't see her at first, during their encounters – he saw his wife. He must have just been learning how to project when he came to her. Everything changed when they found out she was pregnant. He still came to her, promised to do "the right thing" and protect her and their child. She grew to respect him, revered him when it was revealed he was one of the Final Five, and mourned his death even now as she did then. Did she love him? She didn't know. She did know that she loved their child, their Cylon child, their miracle from God. She wished he would have lived to see his son. It might have changed so much.
Or it might have changed nothing. Caprica sighed. Saul Tigh was dead, and his face faded, leaving Bill Adama sitting in front of her. He moved only to blink while the Cylon fantasized, knowing what she was capable of if she felt like it. She felt herself smiling on the inside. If there was one thing Adama learned how to do in the last few years, it was recognize a powerful woman and give her enough to put her in control, but also remind her that he was there too, and he wasn't helpless.
"Where is the president?" Caprica asked, now that her mind was on the woman in Adama's life. "She should be the one doing this." She pulled the cloth away and leaned closer to examine the wound; the bleeding had ceased, but she stayed close. "You should never have left her side."
Other men might have faltered in Six's presence, but Adama fancied himself above that. Women like her were not his weakness; not anymore. Still, though, he agreed with her. He should have been standing beside Laura Roslin down on Earth, not Tom Zarek. He should have taken that bullet for her.
"Do you love her, Bill?"
She'd never called him by his first name before; she'd used it in his presence, of course, but it was always preceded by "Uncle" and addressed to Jericho. What surprised him more was why this was coming up at all. The Cylon mind was a complicated place, full of twists and turns leading to places that seemed irrational. "What do you mean?"
"It's a simple question; I don't see how it could 'mean' anything besides what it is," Caprica said, and repeated, "Do you love her?"
He didn't have the time or the reasons to rationalize his complicated feelings for the president right then and there, and certainly not to a Cylon. However, he also knew that she would pry and twist his words until she got the answer she wanted, so he simply cut to the chase and gave it to her. "Yes."
Satisfied, she leaned away from him. "I will stay aboard the Fate's Embrace until Tom Zarek is able to resume his post on two conditions. One, Jericho stays with Sharon. Two, you include me in this process. I want to know everything you discuss at this meeting you're undoubtedly going to have as soon as you leave here regarding what happened on Earth."
"That's highly classified information," Adama countered. "We can't risk it leaking and creating panic."
Caprica looked at the wall. "Is that why you turned off the security cameras?" She turned her head back toward the admiral. "Really, Admiral, who would I go 'blabbing' to? The way I see it, the Cylons have a large stake in this, especially after you put one of the Final Five directly in the line of fire. If I'm going to lose any more of my brothers or sisters, I want to know why."
"Laura Roslin had no idea what they would-"
"Furthermore," Six interrupted, "I can help you." With a slight quaver in her voice, she continued, "You name me one person in this fleet who is more skilled at studying a strange enemy and coming to understand them so deeply that she was able to infiltrate their highest levels."
"Very well." They were wasting time by carrying out the discussion, and she did have a point. He stood up. "I'll tell you the details on the way. There's no time to lose."
Kadena Air Base
Okinawa, Japan
When General Rebecca Bagalayos reached their alien prisoner's cell block, she saw Colonel Brian House and Captain Ben Kovolsky standing at attention, and silently told herself to be grateful for the two of them and that they'd followed her orders. So much had gone wrong that day that she would lose her mind if she focused only on the negative, and making a note of even the smallest thing that went right could save her sanity. She saluted, then instructed them to stand at ease. Ben was looking at her curiously; she avoided making eye contact with him. "All right, gentlemen, tell me everything you know."
"We've got her in quarantine to keep possible diseases from either side infecting the other," House began. "We'll speak to her from behind glass, and if you need to go in there from any reason, it'll need to be in a containment suit. She hasn't said anything since we put her in here, but she was yelling plenty when we revived her, so we know she's got a set of pipes that work."
He opened the door behind him, and they walked into a small room filled with observation equipment laid out on a table. Just above the table was a large window that took up most of the wall, and through it, they could see into the containment cell. It was spartan, with a skylight, hard tile floor, bare walls, a chair, a sink and toilet, and a bed with a thin mattress and threadbare blanket, on which the captured woman sat. She was dressed in what were distinctly military fatigues, had dark hair tied back in a ponytail, and wore an angry, defiant look on her face that Bagalayos felt was not unlike her own standard expression.
"Her weapons and electronic equipment have been taken to one of the labs, where they'll be disinfected and examined.," House continued. "I don't think we'll need to take her clothes, but that's your call, General."
"Doesn't seem necessary, but hold the option open." Bagalayos looked at Ben, without meeting his gaze straight-on, and asked, "I understand you shot her, Captain. Is that correct?"
"Yes, ma'am, with a tranquilizer," he confirmed, avoiding her eye as well. "I figured she'd be no good to us dead."
"This is a window, not a mirror, right?" Bagalayos asked, tapping the glass.
"Correct, General," said House. "We can make it into a mirror if you don't want her to see us."
"Maybe later." A microphone was among the equipment on the table. Bagalayos picked it up and directed her next words into it. "This is General Bagalayos, commander of Kadena Air Base." A slight echo coming from the room told her that her words had successfully been transmitted. "We mean you no harm. We know you don't understand our words, but I hope you understand why we're doing what we are. We want to learn from you."
"She's not responding," said Ben. "Instead of talking at her, try talking to her. You know, it's that thing we sometimes call proactive communication."
Bagalayos cast a look of warning in his direction, but did not verbally rebuke his insubordinate comment. If there was one person on the base who could speak to her the way she deserved to be spoken to and get away with it, it was Ben Kovolsky. "And what would you do, Captain?"
House sensed tension and excused himself. He knew what went on beyond the uniform between these two, and if they were going to let their repressed issues surface, it would be best for anyone else not to see it. No one could accuse them of anything if they didn't see it – the ancient mantra of "don't ask, don't tell" in action.
"Well, let's find out what her name is," Ben suggested, and took the microphone from his commander. "Hi. Hey, over here," he said into the microphone, and waved to get the captured woman's attention. "I'm Ben. Ben." He tapped his chest to emphasize his name, much in the way Bagalayos had done earlier with the aliens on the runway. "What is your name? Name. Ben. You?"
The woman was looking at him, but expression had not deviated from disdain. She gave no other response or reaction.
"Ben. Name Ben. Name you?"
Suddenly, a thought occurred to Bagalayos, and she asked for the microphone. Ben handed it to her, and she asked, "Are you Kara Thrace?"
The woman rolled her eyes, folded her arms across her chest, and rotated on the bed so her back was to them.
"Call it a hunch, but I don't think her name is Kara Thrace." In House's absence, the young captain didn't think twice about taking protocol out of his discussion with the general. To every other person on the base, Rebecca Bagalayos was their commanding officer, but to Ben Kovolsky, she was much more, and not all of it deserved his respect.
"Do you have a better idea?"
"Yeah: keep trying," he said, and took the microphone back.
Bagalayos would have liked to go in there and speak to the woman directly, but their scientists were right: it was best to have as little contact as possible until they knew if her germs would present any danger to them, or vice versa. Ben, ignoring the obvious futility of his efforts, kept repeating his name in hopes of eliciting a response. As the general watched him, her mind disconnected itself from the moment and fell upon a fond memory. They never look more alike than the way they look when they don't know when to quit.
Ben set the microphone down and shot a confused look at his senior officer. "Why are you smiling?"
She didn't even know she was smiling until he said it, and quickly replaced it with her default scowl as she folded her arms across her chest.
At that moment, something else caught Ben's keen eye: the flash of a diamond. "And why are you wearing that ring? I didn't think you still had it."
"Because it's good for the same thing the person who gave it to me is: inflicting pain," Bagalayos replied, and hastily removed the ring from her finger.
Ben shrugged and made a thoughtful grunt. "Can't argue with you there." He looked over his shoulder at their captive, still unmoving on the bed with her back to them. "What are we going to do about her?"
"Well, you seem invested in her case," said Bagalayos. "How about I leave you in charge of getting information out of her?"
"You mean... take me off flight duty?" the puzzled young man asked.
"You'd stay on standby for emergencies, of course." She lowered her voice, and continued, "Right now, getting her to talk and understanding what she says is the most important thing happening around here. There's something fishy going on, and I don't know who can be trusted. I'm not asking you because you're somehow more qualified to handle the situation than the tens of dozens of people on this base who have spent their whole careers on interrogation of foreign prisoners. I'm asking you because you're my son, and the only person I can trust unconditionally. Please, Ben."
For only the third time in his entire life that he could recall, she looked vulnerable. Ben quickly looked away, not willing to face the intensity in her eyes. His gaze wandered to their captive, and another sensation gripped his heart: guilt. This woman and her people hadn't meant Earth any harm, and when that man of theirs was hit, all they were trying to do was get away. Calling her an alien made it easier to justify keeping her here like this, like a lab rat in a cage to be poked and prodded. What was next – a maze with cheese at the end?
Not if I have anything to do with it.
"Yeah," he said quietly. "Yeah, I'll do it, but this has to be on my terms. I don't want anyone to hurt her. No mistreatment, no manhandling, not even raising their voice. We have to make her understand that we are not her enemy."
"She's your charge now, Captain," said Bagalayos. "I want daily updates, and the minute you get her to talk, alert me."
"By your command," Ben said half-mockingly. He reached out and placed his palm on the glass that separated him from the beautiful stranger. She didn't look any more like an alien than he did, and neither did the ones she came with. They seemed so... human. Could it be possible?
Battlestar Galactica
In orbit around Jupiter
Laura Roslin couldn't remember the last time she had felt so mentally and physically drained. It had been several hours now since the Fate's Embrace jumped back to the fleet and the Earth delegation began discussing a possible course of action in Adama's quarters, but with all the progress they hadn't made, it didn't look like any time at all. There were six of them sitting on Adama's couch, hunching over a stack of papers and charts on the coffee table: herself, Adama, his son, Kara Thrace, and Karl and Sharon Agathon, and all six had a different opinion. Several of them were at odds with each other, with no one apparently willing to budge on their stance. It was hard to find a compromise when every viewpoint could potentially end in their destruction.
"We can't go back there," Kara insisted. "Not now, when we've seen what they'll do to us! They had no reason to attack us!"
"I agree that they had no reason to attack us, but I don't think one incident is enough reason to write the planet off entirely," Lee countered.
"They tried to kill the President," said his father
"But they didn't," said Roslin, "and Zarek's going to be fine."
"They still captured Racetrack," Helo pointed out. "We need to go back for her, and for the Vipers."
"She could already be dead, for all we know," his wife returned.
"And even if she isn't," added Kara, "we run the risk of losing even more people. We have no idea how advanced their weapons are. They could take us all out."
"But if they wanted to do that," said Lee, "they would have."
"And who's to say that isn't what they wanted?" asked Helo. "We don't know what they want. We can't communicate with them. We went in too fast and now we're paying for it. If we'd done more recon..."
"It would have taken even longer than it did for us to get down there, and it's really not like they would have acted any differently," Kara said. "Face it: we're frakked."
"Kara, have a little patience," Lee advised.
"Patients are for hospitals," she replied. "We just escaped by the skin of our teeth from something the people in this fleet are going to see as an act of war."
"She's got a point," said Adama. "When the people find out about this, they'll demand action."
"Then let's give them action, but stay away from Earth," said Kara. "A few days ago I had a chance to look at some of the readings our scouts gathered on the fourth planet in the system. It's not populated, but with some terraforming, it could be suitable for habitation."
"Well, with all the work we'd need to put into that, we may as well go back to the Colonies," argued Lee. "Could look for areas that weren't as badly hit on some of the lower-populated planets – Aquaria, Libran – or some of the moons. Within two or three generations, they'll be fully habitable again."
While the younger officers continued to argue back and forth like they had for most of the meeting, Roslin sighed softly and let her eyes find Adama's. She wished they'd been able to speak in private before coming in here, but between his haste to talk Caprica Six into boarding the Fate's Embrace and her sense of duty that kept her at her vice-president's side until he went into surgery made that impossible. As far as they knew, word hadn't leaked to the people about what happened down on Earth, but it wouldn't be long. Once as a course of action was decided upon, they'd have to issue a statement, and then deal with the repercussions within the fleet. There were going to be a lot of unhappy people, and she prayed no one would try anything foolish.
Bill Adama found himself tuning out the others as well as he looked into the president's eyes, and he too felt the anxiety and frustration he knew she was experiencing. They had to act quickly: the longer it took to decide their next move, the harder their people would take it. Furthermore, there were the Cylons to consider. Whether the humans liked it or not, they had a truce to uphold. If they went against it, Adama knew it would probably mean their end.
He desperately wanted to speak with Roslin alone as well. He'd hardly seen her at all since they began this rodeo, and he feared one of the reasons things had gotten so out of hand was because they weren't on the same page. Major decisions needed to be made right away, and if the fleet's two most prominent leaders were making them without each other... he didn't even want to think about what sort of trouble they'd find themselves in.
"Maybe we should just make an announcement outlining what happened and we're working on our next move," Roslin suggested. "Deflect until we're all a bit more capable of handling the workload in front of us."
"We shouldn't be too specific," Adama said. "Kara's right: if the people know we were deliberately attacked, they'll see it as an act of war. We should just say there were some setbacks, and avoid implying there were hostile events."
Suddenly, Sharon gasped and pressed her hand to her temple, bringing an abrupt halt to the debate. Her husband's hands immediately went to her shoulders to steady her. "Are you all right?" he asked.
Sharon blinked several times and gave her head a quick shake, and when she looked up again, seemed perfectly fine. "Yeah... yeah, I'm okay," she assured the onlookers. "I just felt dizzy all of a sudden."
Puzzled, Kara commented, "I don't get it. You're a Cylon. You've always had more strength and endurance than any of us."
"It could be the time she spent on the Fate's Embrace," Helo said. "The ship fraks with you, even more so now that we know what ship it is."
The Fate's Embrace had once been the flagship of the Cylon fleet. It led the attack against the Colonies, was the first to locate the humans on New Caprica, and even turned against its own at the hands of the Cavil model. The basestar struck fear into the mind of human and Cylon alike, and if it were not for how great their need, Adama would have seen to its destruction long ago. Besides its superior firepower, the Embrace had technology far more advanced than any Colonial ship when it came to critical processes like water purification and fuel refinery, not to mention the superior Cylon computers and navigation systems. Desperate times called for desperate measures, and allowing that ship into their fleet was certainly an act of desperation. Whether they liked it or not, the truth of the matter was that Cylon technology was going to keep their fleet moving.
A ring sounded from another section of Adama's quarters, providing a welcome distraction. He excused himself, walked over to his desk, and plucked the phone off the wall. "Yes?"
"Admiral," came the raspy voice of Doc Cottle. "Tom Zarek's just woken up from surgery. He wants to see the President."
I don't want him to see her, Adama thought, but of course did not vocalize that sentiment. It didn't matter how he felt. His hands were tied. They'd been in here too long with too little progress, and after mulling it over a moment, he realized he'd be better off if Roslin went to see Zarek right now. It was either this, or he could wait until she started asking about him.
"We'll be right there."
