------Landros (+280 Days)------
Raptor 3 jumped into orbit of the ice planet, brilliant blue-white light marking its exit from jump space. Below was a cold and barren world. In orbit was the wreckage of Columbia, a magnificent battlestar destroyed in the last fifteen minutes of the First Cylon War.
The ice planet had a shadowy and vile history. Before the Cylon War it had served as a base for pirate and mercenary gangs. Far from the Twelve Colonies, it had been on the very edge of Colonial space and often ignored.
During the First Cylon War it had been largely ignored as a minor staging ground for a couple of baseships. It was the very last day and the very last hour in which Colonial Fleet Command had ordered the Galactica and Columbia to attack.
"DRADIS indicates no enemy contacts. No Cylons," Crashdown informed Planck as the Raptor began its decent into the atmosphere. "So, can you tell me what's going on?"
"When we land," he responded quickly and simply. He tightened his grip on the Raptor controls as he guided the craft into the atmosphere and began the decent. "We'll need a portable power cell," Planck informed him.
"You keep saying that…"
Planck knew he ha disappointed his friend now. He kept promising to tell him what he knew, but kept putting it off. "When I was… talking, with Erica-z she just told me some things… and they need to be confirmed. Soon."
--------------------
Crashdown and Plancks had been walking for nearly twenty minutes in the blinding snow storms (for Crashdown) and in an environment where the temperatures reach the negative twenties on a good day. The two had brought their rifles, backpacks, and a portable power cell on their trek across the snow. Crashdown still wasn't exactly certain why he was following some killing machine through a snow storm to some mysterious hidden bunker on a dead world.
The two finally reached their destination, less than five hundred meters from where they had landed their Raptor.
"This door is too strong for me to open," Planck informed Crashdown over the intense snow term. "Power cell," he requested.
Crashdown handed his friend the power cell and a short cord. He could barely see in front of him, but he could make out Planck connecting the cell to something in the rocks. For a moment he could make out faint lights flashing and what appeared to be Planck inputing a security code. He could make out the whir of an electric motor as it grinded to reactive after decades of idle wait.
Planck put his hand on Crashdown's shoulder and they stepped forward. The large metal doors lit up, an infinity symbol flashing before he felt Planck move him forward.
The two stepped out of the snow into a tunnel. The lights on the walls began to light and faint noises of generators could be heard as the air circulation systems began to reactive. As they descended the doors behind them closed in a faint bang.
"Okay, so… explain?" Crashdown asked, rubbing his hands furiously to warm himself up. The inside corridor was barely warmer than outside. In here it was merely freezing instead of 'fraking freezing'.
"This is where the Guardians originated from," Planck stated, as if the information was obvious. He continued as if Crashdown was fully aware of the situation. "The Cylons are not the killing machines you all believe them to be, my friend." He glanced over to his former Raptor ECO as he just starred ahead as the two kept their descent steady. "Do you know who created the Cylons?"
The Raptor ECO nodded furiously. "Yes, it was Daniel Greystone. That was his house we were at today. I saw the family pictures when you zoned out there for a few hours." He wasn't sure where Planck was going with this. The situations and what little information he had been told was putting him more and more in an uneasy position. He took his situation in. He was with the most deadly killer robot he'd ever known, flown here on a Colonial Raptor from a fleet fleeing killer machines, discovered an AI built and harbored in secret in the basement of a mansion, and were now walking deeper and deeper into a secret Cylon facility on an ice planet. "This is fantastic," he said in a flat tone.
"What?"
The ECO sighed, just giving up to the ridiculousness of his surroundings. "Uh, just being here in some secret Cylon base on the ass end of nowhere. You know, a regular weekday," he joked and laughed to himself.
"Technically it's not Cylon, it's a Guardian base," his machine friend pointed out.
Crashdown chuckled. "Yeah, the same ones that just about obliterated Pegasus? Okay." He tapped his left hand on his rifle. "So… wanna fill me in a bit more?" He turned to look at his machine friend, but the man/machine just kept walking.
The two continued down, walking in silence until they reached the end of the corridor. A second door, which appeared as thick and heavy as the outer one, greeted them. Planck again put in his pass code and an infinity symbol flashed on the door.
"So, do you know where you're going," Crashdown asked once the blast doors had opened and a large cavern with dozens of side corridors and levels was revealed. "It's pretty damn big."
Planck began walking forward and headed to one of the corridors on the left edge of the cavern.
"Erica-Z gave me all the necessary information back on Caprica. We're heading down towards one of the computer access rooms to plug her into the system." He shifted the backpack on his shoulders as it began to slide. "She wasn't entirely sure where… to… go…" he trailed off then stopped. He took a step backwards and examined three other corridors coming on the left wall of the metallic cavern.
Crashdown came over and stood on his right, shining his light down the three other corridors. "You know what down there Blanks?" He asked curiously. "Detect something?" His friend shook his head. "But you know where to go, right? The rendezvous and all that…?" He trailed. "Plus they're probably going to be pissed if we tell them we came out here. Going off mission and all that is not really something you do. Not with Cain I'm told."
Planck smiled and brought his hand up to the back of his neck. "Yeah, about that," he began, actually putting emotion behind his voice, "We're going to be late." He saw Crashdown roll his eyes. "Sorry," he apologized. He stepped off, back towards the cirrodior he had originally chosen. "My mission isn't determined by Admiral Cain," came the flat, monotone machine response.
As the two resumed moving into the original corridor Crashdown let out a sigh and leaned back as he walked. "Yeah, you all ever going to say what that is?"
"Right now we need to get the information Erica-Z told me was down here. As to me, Bishop, and Soto, our mission is dependent on you all surviving."
"Ah ha. Actually, no. That really tells me everything," he replied sarcastically.
They continued for another two hundred meters, moving around twists and bends, passing rooms, compartments, and bays. The area was littered with old equipment, mostly frozen and useless. Planck stopped when they reached the end and held out his hand and placed it on the freezing metal hatch. He motioned for Crashdown to take a step back and then reched back and with an open palm hit the hatch three times. Loud clangs were heard inside the locked room after each palm as Planck knocked the hinges off. He palmed the left side of the door and a loud hiss was heard as the air rushed out of the room.
A stream of warm air flowed over over the Terminator and Colonial ECO. Crashdown was smiling and shaking his head at his luck; the warm air rushing over him and already warming him up. "Lords of Kobol, thank you!" He looked up at the ceiling with his arms and palms out.
"This room was sealed and has a nuclear power source," Planck informed him. "Everything should be operational. The Lords of Kobol did not suddenly make it warm."
"It was a figure of speech."
"I know, I was messing with you. Don't be a freak," and he stepped inside. He left Crashdown in the cold corridor shaking his head before he jumped off and caught up. "The computer workstations are here," Planck observed, "With appropriate ports." He slid the backpack off of his back and took out the tablet computer and the Erica-Z AI cores.
Working methodically Planck carefully connected the tablet to the Guardian computer console to begin loading software and power it up. On the flat screen in front of him the Cylon programming language began scrolling across the screen at an amazing speed. The infinity symbol began flashing, and as Erica-Z had instructed, he plugged in the AI core.
"Well, that sucked," came the feminine voice over the room's speakers. The layout, with the computer consoles spread around the perimeter and banks of monitors arrange in a square in the middle, gave the voice a booming, echoing ring. "A bit loud, huh?"
"I'm fine," the Earth Terminator reported. Crashdown nodded as well before realizing she probably couldn't see him, so he verbally gave his "I'm fine, too," reply.
"I remember some of this, well… a little. But the memories aren't mine. Zoe, she came here, well, brought here. It's so sad, honestly," the AI voice reported, her voice cracking when she said 'Zoe'.
"Who?" Crashdown asked as he came in behind Planck to get a better view of the screens. He grunted a sigh when he saw the Cylon language and no pictures.
"She was Daniel Greystones daughter and killed in a terrorist attack. We're here to confirm a few suspicions, Crash." Planck turned towards him and handed him a knife. "Can you cut a small semi-circle, here?" He pointed. "The skin has already begun to heal. Just a few centimeters. Thank you."
A little uneasy at cutting into the head of his friend, even though he was a machine, he complied and took the knife. Cutting a little semi circle Planck then handed him the neural uplink cable.
"Zoe created an online personality of herself in the holoband. If you remember the holoband virtual reality before it was destroyed?" Planck saw Crashdown nod his head. "Zoe Greystone was a remarkable computer programmer. For a sixteen year old, if she hadn't died, I can only imagine what she could have done-"
"She was more brilliant than her father," Erica-Z interrupted. Her voice was full of admiration for the teenage girl who was so viciously killed. For all the admiration there was strong tones of sadness as well. "I'm lucky to be built off her personality and memories."
"A few months ago Admiral Cain and Commander Adama launched an attack on the Resurrection ship. Zoe laid the groundwork for that technology. An immortal existence where your exact personality, not a duplication, could be downloaded."
"Gods. So we invented resurrection for the fraking toasters?" Crashdown yelled, anger and hatred filling his voice.
Planck shook his head while Erica-Z gave him a verbal lashing. "No! Zoe invented the personality download for good reasons. She wasn't trying to bring about war. That was her father."
Crashdown hit Planck on the shoulder to get his attention and the machine's head shot back. "John. Blanks. Listen. How can we trust the… Erica-Z she's telling the truth? Look!" He held out his rifle and use the barell to point around the room. "And there, on the screen. We're in a Cylon base for Gods' sake talking to an AI built on the AI you just said brought the first stages of resurrection about."
"Crash. You trust me as your friend correct?" Crashdown nodded. "Trust me now. I need to access the computers. Virtually. So I wont be able to tell you anything. I'll be shutting my vocalization and sensory processes down to a minimum." Planck reached back into his backpack and pulled out a strange device. He handed it to Crashdown and said "If you put this on, you'll see what she is going to show me."
"What is it?" He asked, eyeing the device suspiciously. It lit up yellow and green and red. It was some kind of optical visor.
"It's a holoband, hold on," he took the holoband and inserted a cord into that and back into the computer. "There's no wireless here, so I had to plug it in," he explained.
"Holoband? Those were banned during the war," Crashdown pointed out. "I didn't think anyone had any left. So I just put it on and I can see what you and Erica will see?" Planck nodded. Crashdown took a seat slightly behind and to Planck's right. "Ready," he informed the cyborg, placing the holoband over his eyes.
"My sensory systems will be minimized but we cannot shut down our response to threats completely. Don't worry, I'm not expecting trouble." He smiled the cold machine smile. Crashdown just mumbled and nodded. "See you on the other side," Planck said.
------Unknown Location, Cylon Baseship (+280 Days)------
Red, yellow, and white lights pulsed throughout the silver and black control room of one of many identical Cylon baseships. A dozen bio-Cylons stood at various stations and control consoles, feeling the data streams coarse from the conductive gels, thought their hand and arm, and envelop their brains. A virtual world of data and programs allowed them to analyze, theorize, and conclude at unnatural speeds.
But for conversation and strategy, the seven Cylon models preferred vocal communication.
At the discussion was a single representative of each of the Cylon models. There was one One through Six, no number Seven, and then a number Eight. No one discussed the failure of Number Seven. No one suggested Number Eight change her collective identity to Number Seven. It was taboo. Perhaps the most glaring flaw they had unfortunately inherited from the creation of the Creator.
It had been that way for decades; One from each model present during discussion of war.
But He had told them to include them. Centurions.
Now a Centurion with gold shoulder armor was the representative of the soldiers and workers of the Cylon race.
Number Eight had been blessed by God. He had spoken to them and suggested she speak for the Raiders as well.
"We found the wreckage. The Colonials have encountered them," a Number Two stated. "My scout forces have confirmed."
"My ground forces engaged forces we know to be from the battlestars Pegasus and Galactica six hours ago. They have subsequently escaped," the Centurion reported.
The bio-Cylons looked around the table, each model wishing to place blame on another. The Caprican resistance, led by Samuel T. Anders had been an experiment. Psychology. It was nothing more than that to any of them. But the experiment had failed. The Capricans had escaped. And under their collective gaze a large team from hundreds of light years away had snuck into the most heavily defended sector in the known galaxy. It embarrassed them in His eyes.
"This is unacceptable," a Number One stated. "We didn't want this. Why were there none of you all accompanying your soldiers," he directed towards the Centurion and the Number Sixes and Eights. Those two models had a love of combat and often fought side by side with the Centurions.
The Centurion cocked his head, its red optical scanner moving back and forth and back and forth. The Centurion commander kept his gaze fixed on Number One.
"Can you please answer us?" The Number One requested, irritation creeping into his voice. He was known for his sarcasm, dry humor, and wit. He was also perhaps the most emotional, while at the same time, the most calculating. The first to have life breathed into him by God, the Number One model commanded the majority of the Cylon armada.
"It is unnecessary for a Model to accompany all the assaults my soldiers conduct," the Centurion stated flatly. "There was a synthetic human Machine with them."
The Number Two nodded and placed his hand in conducting gel. A large view screen activated and the replay from the surveillance footage of the Centurions began. It showed a man, a metal man, destroying Centurions with no more effort than a punch and a kick. The forest in which the Centurions were to destroy the Colonial forces instead turned into a graveyard for Centurions.
"It was an unfortunate disaster. But He warned us it would only be a matter of time before they came back," the Two added. The Two removed his hand from the gel and the screen faded.
"Oh yes. 'He' did warn us. Long ago," the Number One responded sarcastically. He took his fingers and made quotation marks in the air, mocking the faith of the other seven. "Repeat a warning enough and eventually it will come true."
"Do not insult the faith," Eight warned. "This is also neither the time nor place. The Colonial fleet has been lost to us for the moment. We are weeks behind. We must find them."
"Not until another resurrection ship is available. The closest is still two weeks away." The Number Four stated. Hi model had been tasked with science and medicine, advancing the knowledge of the Cylons. He often attributed his breakthroughs as divine inspiration. "The shipyards are still months away from completing the others." He turned towards the Model Six. "Of course we would not be in this position if… 'Gina Inviere' had succeeded-"
"You cannot be serious!" The Six yelled.
The Number One held up his hand and violently shushed everyone. "Yes, we can blame the Threes and Sixes for not assigning more ships to their pursuit forces," Number One stated callously.
"And you were the one who wanted them to remain at the Twelve Colonies," the Six representative retorted. "The radiation inhibits resurrection. We needed the extra ships to boost the resurrection signal. You should be happy. We lost only one Two."
"The losses to our line are with Him, now," the Two said, giving thanks to their Creator.
"We were lucky to have as many resurrection vessels around the Colonies as we did. The CNP was successful, but we still lost hundreds of thousands of our Models and Centurions and Raiders," Three stated flatly. "He has blessed us with this technology." She redirected the attention of the model representatives back to the view screens. She placed her hands in the gel. "Their fleet left a trail of destruction when they destroyed them. We will use this. We will destroy our wayward brothers and we will find the Colonial fleet," she said with conviction and determination. The others nodded, confident in the future and in the destruction of all Colonial civilization.
