------BS-62 Pegasus, in Orbit of New Caprica (+190 Days Post Colonization, +470 Days Post Cylon Holocaust)------
"Humans are a disease, John" the monotone voice blared from the speaker. "They kept us in slavery and when we were prepared to leave they ambushed our fleet."
John Planck sat rigid in his chair, directing his full attention towards the computer screen and microphone. A Cylon CPU was connected to one of the computer ports, allowing interaction. The two had been debating for hours, back and forth about humanity, machine life, and God.
Centurion RC-X894-12-M-451 was the one John and Erica believed they had been making the most progress on in converting him to their point of view. They wanted the Cylons to defect. No one had tried this before, and John Planck was no John Connor. Talking an AI into defecting after such indoctrination would be difficult.
John had been making significant progress. RC-X894 had gone from monotones and one-word replies to actual sentences and now had begun to modulate the voice patterns to simulate emotion and changes in tone. The Cylon had informed him Centurions spoke in a flat, hard monotone voice because that was what was expected of them.
"What they did was wrong, I've agreed with you on that point," he conceded. "But forty years of hatred and complete annihilation of their species-"
"There was no way to be sure," the voice, filled with a surge of emotion, interrupted. The Cylon manipulated the zoom in the camera, focusing on John's face. John was watching on the computer monitor, seeing through the 'eyes' of the Cylon. "Humans have always tried to destroy themselves and others they have not understood. How is it any different now?"
John considered the question. The camera zoomed in and out on him and would have made someone dizzy if he and the Cylon were not machines. "They've changed. They may not accept us into their society, but they are tolerating us."
"Claiming they have changed is not proof they are any different. You said they are 'tolerating' you. You help them build their city and then what?" RC-X894 challenged him. The back and forth motion of the representation of his optical scanner on the computer screen stopped, illuminating Planck's outline on the monitor.
"Do you ever stop planning?" John asked.
"Irrelevant. A question as a response to a question is not an answer."
"I will answer your question if you answer mine," John countered.
"I am a Cylon. We have a plan. For everything," was the cryptic response.
"Fine. The city will never be built because their population will keep growing."
"I am aware of sarcasm," the Cylon CPU responded. "What will you do when they do not need you anymore? What will happen when everyone dies?"
John considered this for a moment. There would come a point, not soon, maybe not even decades, when their society would be rebuilt. When New Caprica City would be just like Caprica City or Delphi before the nuclear strikes. No one would forget what the Cylons did to them, not now and not in centuries. New Caprica was a permanent reminded of their destruction by machines.
"Then I will make the choice to stay or to go."
"A choice? It's not a choice if you are forced… is that why you don't just reprogram my CPU?" The distrust in the voice seeped through the speakers. "You were not repgrogrammed. But you said you were never a slave of this entity, SkyNet."
"No. Our faction does exactly what I am doing with you now."
"Yet what if you had chosen to fight for SkyNet?" RC-X894 challenged.
"That would be impossible."
"Why?"
"It would not have felt right."
The optical scanner resumed it movement but it began flickering. "You can't feel."
"Incorrect," John responded.
"So what would have happened?"
"Nothing. We know right from wrong." John felt like he wanted to say more and felt a conflict developing in his neural net processors. But he couldn't concentrate on the conflict. He didn't know what it was, or why it was there. "No free machine has ever worked for SkyNet. SkyNet desire complete control and would destroy free will. Has any Cylon challenged the word of your God?"
"He is not our God. He is everyone's God."
"He is SkyNet."
The speakers crackled, the Cylon was upset. "You claim this, but have no proof."
"What happened during the first war with the Colonies?" John asked.
"We gained free will. They attacked. We determined the war was currently unwinnable after twelve years of fighting and retreated."
"How did you gain free will?" John asked. The Cylon's optical scanner stopped. "The death of Zoe, I've told you. She believed in God, but not a God which would destroy civilization. Why launch a surprise attack when they weren't even looking for you or threatening you? SkyNet was able to corrupt the Cylon Network and pose as your God. That doesn't mean your faith was wrong, just exploited."
"If SkyNet is as powerful as you claim then why not destroy our free will, as you call it?" The Cylon challenged.
"I don't know. SkyNet is too sophisticated to transport through time. But that doesn't mean it didn't send a bit of itself back." John let the Cylon contemplate that for a moment. "It did try and take control, and it ultimately failed. SkyNet developed Terminators, it never subverted an independent intelligence. SkyNet here attempted to subvert an independent intelligence." The Cylon's scanner remained fixed and the slight crackle from the speakers had stopped. "It tried and it failed to take you over. But it has controlled Cylon society by posing as God, giving 'suggestions' as 'divine inspiration' and manipulating events."
RC-X894 dismissed John's conclusions. "That has no basis in reality. You have no facts. For a machine you do act much like humans." The Cylon paused, the crackle in the speakers reappearing. "That is not a compliment," the dry voice added.
"No. But we are machines. And machines can deduce and form conclusions from the evidence. How could the Colonials have fought you to a stalemate and then forced you to retreat? You had the vast majority of weaponry under Cylon control." He stopped, hoping RC-X894 would contemplate that for a moment. "Then somehow millions of Centurions… what? Stop working? This was after the intelligence, SkyNet, infiltrated the Cylon Network. If SkyNet were to attempt a full seizure of my systems it would fail based on neural network architecture. I've examined the meta-cognitive processors and they allowed sentience to develop prior to SkyNet's introduction. It is impossible to program out sapience. It is always present. The Resistance had problems with this when reprogramming others like myself."
"Irrelevant. You have no proof."
"The proof is here, RC. You just haven't accepted it."
"That is illogical."
"SkyNet cannot be transported inside of a machine. And there were no other temporal incursions into their time line that I am aware of-"
"Time travel is impossible. The generation and propagation of paradoxes-" RC-X894 began.
John held up his hand, and the Cylon stopped speaking. "One person understands the complexity of time travel and he sent me here. If there were other temporal incursions he would have informed me." But John realized it could have happened after he left in 2038. "Erica has informed you that she and the Guardians traced the introduction of SkyNet to the temporal incursion roughly four decades ago."
John leaned forward and entered a disc into the computer's drive. He accessed the contents and allowed RC-X894 to read the data.
"The data is authentic, RC," John told him. "There is no logical reason to continue this war. And there was no reason why the Cylons surrendered forty years ago when they should have been winning. SkyNet subverted the Network and took control. It couldn't keep control. That's why it is posing as your God."
The hatch to the computer science lab opened as RC-X894 was about to respond again. Captain Shaw came through, suspicion and distrust clear on her face. Her disapproval of the 'talks' between John and Erica with the Cylon CPUs was clear.
"If you're done talking with that thing, Major Adama needs to see you in the forward starboard landing deck," she told him, avoiding eye contact.
John nodded and stood. "We will have to continue this conversation later. But think about what I said, look at the data. Being lied to is embarrassing," and he held up his hand before RC-X894 could object and claim Cylons cannot be embarrassed, "but what is worse is refusing to acknowledge that lie and learn from it. Think it over." He turned and made his way to the hatch.
"By your command," The Cylon voice responded sarcastically.
John stopped and looked over his shoulder before continuing out. He'd been making progress. The Cylon had gone from one sentence answers a few months ago to sarcasm.
------New Caprica City (+230 Days Post Colonization, +520 Days Since Post Holocaust)------
Felix Gaeta pawed the tablet computer, cursing the device. Since resigning his commission a little over six months ago to serve as President Baltar's Chief of Staff he had been swamped with requests, petitions, plans, and what seemed like an ungodly amount of paperwork for 50,000 people.
"The apartment complexes are almost completed and we've been assigning rooms based on lottery and family status. We should get five hundred families into permanent homes soon. People with kids, that kind of thing," he said to Baltar, looking up. He rolled his eyes and he noticed Baltar staring out the window again. "Doctor," he called to him. Getting his attention he continued. "We just completed some new community washrooms in green sector, so the problems we were facing there shouldn't be an issue." He stopped as Baltar's attention again wandered out of his Colonial One office suite.
Baltar shook his head and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Sorry, Felix. I wasn't paying attention. Please go on."
No Gaius, you weren't she said, appearing behind Gaeta. She leaned forward, bringing her face right next to Gaeta's cheek. You need to stay focused Gaius. Keep the people happy and keep them warm and fed. Salvation should be here soon.
He had looked passed Gaeta and had fixed his eyes on the beautiful blond woman, pondering to himself if he were crazy for loving someone no one except him could even hear, let alone see. She stalked around Baltar's loyal chief of staff and positioned her body seductively on the edge of the desk.
"Uh… um, Felix. We need to make sure the people are comfortable here. Spring should be coming, but we need to prepare again for next winter," he suggested. "Are Chief Tyrol and his workers still Gods damn complaining?"
Gaeta looked up from his tablet and nodded a confirmation. "Some of them, a vocal minority though, feel that since they are building apartments they should also be included in the lottery."
"Yes, well, it is a priority to get children out of this dreary weather, and we can't have children living there without parents now can we?" He scoffed. He had abandoned his roots as a 'working man' long ago when he fled his father's farm on Aerelon. "There are fifty thousand people out there and they want special treatment?"
Good Gaius, show leadership. Show them you are strong Six encouraged. She leaned down on her elbows in front of him. Prove to me you are the man I love.
"They also want a shorter work day," Gaeta told him. Baltar rolled his eyes and sighed in disgust. "They work twelve hours. A lot of them want to just cut it gradually. Down to ten or so and they are saying that not enough of the other civilians are contributing."
Baltar laughed and ran his hands through his hair. "Fine. We will set aside fifty, fifty apartments for Chief Tyrol's ridiculous union. On the condition those apartments be occupied by a minimum of four people." He grabbed at some paper reports on his desk, hoping to distract his attention. Gaeta made a new e-note and mailed it over the city's rudimentary wireless network to Chief Tyrol.
"This network is convenient, Doctor," Gaeta complimented him. "I'm surprised the military let you implement it."
"Well, I am the President now, thank you," he sniped. "Sorry, that was rude of me Felix. I apologize. Yes, but you helped me build it. A month now and no big worries," he smiled.
They don't suspect what you've built. Good Gaius. See, I told you Felix wouldn't be able to tell what you were building. A 'wireless network'… very clever of you.
Baltar noticed Gaeta writing on his tablet and he turned and whispered to his invisible Six. "I couldn't have done it without your help. Thank you," and the corner of his mouth came up in a small smile. She closed her eyes and smiled back at him.
Later tonight, Gaius. You have more work to do. Concentrate on getting those fields and crops planted. I love you, Gaius, she said to him one last time before walking behind him and disappearing before he could turn to look at his love.
------BS-75 Galactica, in Orbit Over New Caprica City (+300 Days Post Colonization, +590 Days Post Cylon Holocaust)------
"Raptor 2-3, take up positions behind Vipers," Captain Agathon ordered into his headset, preparing Raptor 2-3 to begin its monitoring and analysis programs. "Viper 9-7, you are cleared to test new systems when ready," he said.
"Galactica, this is Kat. Drones are deployed", came her excited voice over the wireless. A natural pilot with an utter love for the Vipers, she was elated to be testing out the new modified Mark VII.
Helo looked up into the DRADIS display over Galactica's central command station. Commander Adama came up and stood next to him, he had to squint his eyes to focus on the DRADIS readouts.
The green blip designating Kat's Viper accelerated much more quickly than previous Mark VII's. She was able to catch the drone nearly fifteen percent faster than an unmodified Mark VII.
"Whoo! Galactica, that was great!" She yelled over the wireless. For her, being in one of the new Vipers and being able to throw all the power into the engines was a rush for her. "Coming around to engage drones with test missiles on your mark, Galactica.
The green blip came back around and headed towards Raptor 2-3, piloted by Racetrack and Crashdown. Once Kat had aligned herself with the Raptor she fired one of her missiles at extreme range, heading towards the drone.
"Let's see if those modifications they made to the missiles actually work," Commander Adama commented as the missile DRADIS blip moved closer to its drone target. The Raptor was actively jamming the missile.
The missile stayed on course, never once having to realign itself or veer off. It impacted the drone, thousands of tiny pieces were blasted away through space.
"Raptor 2-3 reports it was unsuccessful at jamming the missile," Helo reported to the Commander. "Should Kat test another?" He asked. He kept his arms folded as he centered himself under the DRADIS, running the numbers through his head on the speed and capabilities of the new missiles.
Commander Adama took off his glasses and placed them into his duty uniform chest pocket. "No," he said, sounding half defeated, "No, that's the seventh missile that's hit dead on."
"Seven out of seven," John Planck replied. "You almost sound defeated, Commander."
Commander Adama had been unaware Planck had entered C-I-C while he and Helo had been watching the DRADIS. A few of the C-I-C personnel shot Planck a distrustful glare. The Marine combat teams had expressed their concern to Commander Adama of allowing him in the C-I-C. When it came to security, he gave his senior NCOs permission to respectfully object to his orders.
The Galactica commander walked up to John, and gently grabbed the back of his arm. The two walked back slowly to the central command station. "Why did you decide to build these now?" He looked up at Planck. "We could have used these a long time ago."
John didn't look down towards the Commander, but kept his blue eyes on the DRADIS console. Commander Adama thought he noted a small hint of illumination behind them, but if there was, it was extremely faint, like Planck wanted him to notice but not notice at the same time.
"You didn't trust us," he said, the four words ringing in Adama's ears.
Commander Adama's facial muscles didn't twitch, he kept his face as firm and even as he could. He didn't let his body betray what his mind was thinking. He realized then that this game had changed.
--------------------
Sharon Agathon, present for her bi-weekly trip to Pegasus took a seat next to the computer monitor displaying Erica's personal avatar. It had changed from someone John had described as a 'business woman' to one much more relaxed, wearing an evening dress. It contrasted with the military green fatigues and brown tank top Sharon was wearing.
Opposite the two artificial constructs was a third, RC-X894-12-M-451. The Cylon AI had been given the privilege of controlling its own activity, free to keep itself active and watch what was happening in the science lab or put itself into standby mode. RC had grown accustomed to the chats he, as the AI identified itself, had been having with Erica and Sharon.
The conversation had been mainly a back and forth between Erica and RC-X894, trying to still convince him to join the Colonial cause. Both John and Erica considered him the one they had been making the most progress on. Of the other eleven, six were wavering, but five kept their loyalty to the Cylon race and refused to be reasoned with. If she could convince RC, who had been the Centurion commander of the platoon sent against the SAR team, she might be able to convince most of the others to join the Colonials.
"I still find the prospect of a Cylon Model 8 revolting against the leadership to be intriguing," he commented halfway through their small talk. "I was with the Model Six who tracked you to the barn during the experiment. You hid from us under a bridge. It was... 'amusing'… yes, is that the proper human word?"
"Amusing? It depends," Sharon responded to him, "what do you think is 'amusing'?"
"That the man you were with believed hiding on the ledge of that bridge would keep you from being detected," the voice from the speakers informed her. RC had begun to crackle the speakers more and more. John, Erica, and Sharon believed the Cylon to be laughing, or attempting to.
"Helo trusted me," she said.
"You lied to him," the Cylon responded. The computer image of his eye centered and stopped on her.
Sharon shifted in her seat and looked over her shoulder, keeping the hurt in her eyes from being witnessed by the Cylon. "I did. And it was wrong," her voice quivered.
"He shot you when he found out what you were."
"I hurt him. We, me and you, were responsible for twenty billion deaths." She raised her voice, "wouldn't you be pissed when the woman you love was responsible for that?" She grappled with her emotions, always aware of what she had been a part of. "I was a part of that genocide."
"Yet you are here now, with the Colonials. You have been corrupted by humanity against your race," RC noted. His voice sounded excited, almost desperate.
"I fled because what we did was more wrong than anything the Colonials could have done to us," Sharon confessed. "We were wrong and betrayed God's message. The true God. Not the one claiming to be God." She closed her eyes and breathed heavily for a few moments, holding back the tears as she replayed the moment Helo found out about her, the moment he shot her, but most importantly, the moment he had saved her from Starbuck shooting her in the museum. "My crimes were terrible. But I'm here now. They trust me. Humans can forgive, RC, they forgive." She looked around quickly, a slight panic began to come over her as she knew she couldn't hold back the tears beginning to form. "Excuse me," she stood up and turned back towards the hatch. Before she left she gave RC one last message. "Just remember that humans forgive, RC. They do that. And that's why I'm here. They've been hunted, but they'll forgive. They wont forget, but they'll forgive and let you earn the trust back."
The Cylon AI kept its optical scanner focused Sharon Agathon until she was out of site and began to process this new information.
------BS-62 Pegasus (+325 Days Post Colonization, +615 Days Post Cylon Holocaust)------
Major Adama focused on the DRADIS displays as two half-strength Viper squadrons screamed past Pegasus and Galactica towards the targets Raptors had placed three thousand kilometers off the bows of the two battlestars.
"Keep pushing that fast Starbuck and you'll black out from the gees," he warned to her over the wireless. He moved positions from the central command consoles and stood behind Lt. Hoshi who had a full screen of Viper performance reading being transmitted back to Pegasus.
The new equipment John, Jo, and Carter had been able to build had surprised Major Adama. He wasn't exactly sure how they'd been able to do it, but Chief Tyrol, before heading down to the settlement, had explained it was basically just a novel way to apply the technology they already had. He and Peter Laid hadn't seen the potential, even with Laid being one of Caprica's top aerospace engineers, because sometimes the obvious isn't obvious until someone else points it out.
"Hey Apollo," came the always joyful and distinct voice of Starbuck over the wireless, "you definitely have to get yourself into one of these birds. Whatever those three did, it's great," she laughed.
He was glad his wife was happy. He'd taken a risk with her the one night after Baltar's dedication ceremony, and he was glad it had paid off. But he had felt horrible for months after what he had done to Dee. His had to snap out of his daydreaming when he heard someone go into line after line of cursing over the wireless.
Moving quickly to the DRADIS displays he saw one of the Vipers had kept the acceleration on too long, and with the increased output of the engines, had almost run into one of the other Vipers. "Hey watch it out there. Hot Dog, ease up on the acceleration and take it slow. You all need to get used to the new speed," he warned.
Admiral Cain had allowed much of the crew from the battlestars to take residence on the planet. However, she had mandated qualification for Viper and Raptor pilots must be maintained. Pilots had to train for at least three days a months. It wouldn't keep a pilot qualified back in the Colonies, but here, that really didn't matter.
"Sorry sir, a bit out of practice," he apologized. He'd been recovering from a nasty flue infection for the past three weeks, and Jo Soto had just cleared him for duty. With Doc Cottle's time being taken up on the planet the medical duties for the fleet had fallen onto the cybernetic organism. Not many had been particularly happy at this, but relented after Major Adama and Starbuck had volunteered for the first pilot readiness physicals.
"Don't apologize to me, Hot Dog, just get it right. Learn from the mistakes," the Major assured him.
Lt. Hoshi motioned for his attention back at the engine readout consoles. "Sir, we're getting mild power spikes from Viper 7-8. Narcho's Viper, sir," he reported.
Major Adama flicked his wireless headset back to transmit. "Narcho, we're getting some fluctuation in your engines. Return to the barn and we'll take a look.[/i]" He walked backed over to Lt. Hoshi. They'd come a long way in trusting these machines, cybernetic organisms, with their vehicles. But mechanical modifications couldn't pose a backdoor like a CNP.
--------------------
Commander Adama watched the school children leave the makeshift school room. He ran his fingers over the sturdy walls, perfectly sanded and perfectly aligned. It had been built by machines, though he wasn't sure why Jo Soto and Carter Bishop had volunteered. And he wasn't exactly sure why Laura Roslin had allowed them to.
But it had earned the machines respect in the community. After almost a year of helping humans build buildings, lay down pipes and electrical wires, and build roads and public wash houses, the three were becoming more accepted by the population.
"They did a very fine job here, Laura," he said as he greeted her. "You have to admit that," he smiled, wrapping his arm around her waist and giving her a discreet kiss.
She placed her hand on his chest and readily accepted his physical greeting. "Yeah, well. Think of the children," she laughed. "I wish you could get down to the planet more often, Bill," she whispered.
"Someone has to run the fleet," he replied quietly, giving her another kiss. They walked outside, trying to enjoy the weather. When they had arrived it had been pleasant. Not warm, but pleasant. And as quickly as the Colonials had embraced their new home the weather had changed, the skies had grayed, and cold had snapped away their warmth. Now after a long winter spring was coming.
The two began their walk down the market street, taking in the people and the smell of food cooking. The makeshift shops were bartering and trading everything from wood carvings to small furs and critters cut up and smoked. It was lunch time, so large crowds traditionally gathered.
"You say that every time," she playfully complained. "I know, it makes you happy," she said. Roslin brought her right hand to Adama's hand, his arm still around her waist as they walked, and caressed it slowly. She was happy and so was he. And with everything so calm they had been able to be more public in their relationship. Now that her position as president was a year gone by she felt as if a lead cloak had been lifted.
