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Chapter 17: Sacrifice

45 minutes before execution

Ellen walked along the muddy marketplace, noticing how the people moved and spoke little. Her once perfect nails dug into her palms. She had always hated Bill Adama, mostly for the brotherly love her husband had towards him, the love that always left her feeling second best. She'd never been able to grasp why the love of a wife should ever come to be so. But now, seeing the resignation, the sight of defeat among the people, she could not bring herself to care. This was the end, truly, of the Twelve Colonies, all because one man was set to die. She'd assumed Laura would simply become their focus, but perhaps even they knew that Laura Adama would not have the heart to lead, no matter what even she told herself.

"Two, please," she told a merchant, exchanging a woven belt Laura had made for several orange-like fruits and some cotton fabric. The man, who couldn't have been more than twenty, nodded without even an attempt as a smile.

"Thank you," she said as she moved away. Seeing as she needed nothing else, Ellen turned back towards the tents in the schoolhouse's district. She wished there were other paths to meet up with Laura, for this one, the only one, took her past the detention center. Stopping for a moment, she scanned the rows of windows, wondering which one housed the doomed Admiral.

Tyrol's gang would attempt to save him, she had no doubt. She wished they wouldn't try, knowing all too well that Bill would blame himself for the deaths even she could see coming. No way were the Cylons going to allow anyone to get near him and live. She snorted; the loyalty of his people was so obvious. And yet they were going to walk into death for him anyway.

She turned away from the morbid building in frustration. Something caught her arm though, dragging her backwards in between two stalls. A hand clamped over her mouth before she could scream.

"Don't move. Don't scream. You want to save the Old Man?"

Ellen froze. She'd heard that voice before, though from another woman. Slowly, she nodded, and the hand let go to allow her to turn around. She eyes the woman shrewishly.

"Boomer."

"Before you bitch me out, Mrs. Tigh, I'm here because the Admiral asked me to do something."

Ellen laughed derisively.

"You must think I'm an idiot, Cylon. Whats this? An attempt to take someone else down? Or you just like screwing with Humans both ways?"

Boomer sighed and rolled her eyes.

"Please, can you stop being a bitch for five minutes? Think. I have no reason to do this. A machine wouldn't take pleasure in anything. I...I feel."

Ellen felt her interest spark to life at the tone more than the logic of her words. Since the occupation began, Boomer had been indistinguishable from the others of her model; emotionless and cold. But now her face was twisted in pain and her eyes shone overbright with tears.

"Please let me save him," Boomer pleaded.

"Why? This..makes no sense."

"Just....it's none of your business why I'm doing this. You want to leave a coward or be more than Tigh's whore of a wife like you've always been?"

"Such a saleswoman...," Ellen drawled.

"Well?"

Ellen looked her over, letting her words sink in. This sudden change was unnerving, but Ellen Tigh knew how to pick apart every aspect of a person and find their meaning. It had helped her move up the social ladder on the backs of those she'd deemed simple and honest. Easy marks. The Cylons were always different. Strong. Impersonal. They could not fake honesty if they didn't feel it, nor could they effect any other emotion without some sort of oddity to their words. Boomer looked and spoke like those honest simpletons of Colonial social circles. It was not the stilted emotion Cylons replicated. With a small sigh, Ellen nodded her consent and followed Boomer into the woods. She hadn't come in here before, and so she stumbled a few times over the roots, the weakness from lack of nutrition they'd all suffered making itself more apparent. Her legs felt like jelly and her ankles were sore.

They had not gone far into the foliage when Boomer began to turn right in an arch towards the back of the detention center. She stopped Ellen at the place where the trees began to spread apart and rushed towards a small entrance. It had to be where the Cylons exited and entered so as not to come out directly into the throngs of angry Humans. She could barely see the outline of it in the wall. No wonder no one had ever found it.

Boomer gestured for her to come after she'd opened the door. As she shut it, she grabbed Ellen's hands and twisted them behind her back.

"Shha!" Elle hissed.

"Hush. You need to look like a prisoner."

"Could have fraking told me, you Toaster," Ellen growled back.

"Just shut up and walk," Boomer said. She pushed on Ellen's bound wrists and they pair made their way down the empty halls. Only once did another Cylon, a Leoban, come by. He merely nodded to Boomer, who nodded back and kept walking.

They turned several corners to get away from him, and then Ellen spoke.

"Why do you need me again?"

"D'Anna doesn't trust me. The other day," Boomer turned her down a new corridor," she heard the Old Man ask me to help him. She thinks my model is easy to sway, so she made sure I wasn't allowed near the area again unless I was bringing someone in," another turn," here we go."

She dropped Ellen's wrists, pointing to the juncture they'd just come through. Wordlessly, Ellen went to the edge and peered around for any sign of the Cylons.

"Why no cameras?" she asked softly.

"Arrogance."

Ellens smirked,"how Human."

The lock clicked with a small noise and the door squeaked open. Ellen heard Boomer curse and moved back towards the door. When she saw what made the Cylon swear, she gasped. Her great dislike for the man before them dissipated and she rushed to his side.

Bill Adama was on his side, unconscious. His arms and legs were bound, wrists behind his back with a lock similar to the one of the door. It seemed he'd been struck.

"Oh Gods...."

"I know. It's bad. Must have been visited by that guard we passed. Bet he was the one Adama beat to death at the Anchorage. Damnit, its a good lock."

"Can you undo it?"

"Yeah," Boomer replied. She worked in silence for several tense minutes as Ellen paced outside the door. Finally Boomer whispered an excited "yes!" and she went back in. Boomer lifted Bill unsteadily on one side while Ellen found herself on the other. He was regaining consciousness as the two women were getting back into the hall.

"Boo..Boomer," he choked out," ..?"

"Shh, Bill. Get your legs working, we need to get out of here. It--"

"CENTURIONS!" cried a shrill voice. None of the trio needed to turn around to know that Boomer's assessment of D'Anna's trust in her was well founded. They stumbled forward, Boomer taking most of the weight with her superior strength. Metal feet could be heard from a great distance as well as D'Anna's heels at the other end of the long hallway.

They began to pull Bill more forcefully. His own strength began to return, and soon they were at a full on run towards the exit. D'Anna was screaming her fury at them from behind, the clicking of her heels like gunfire. Thankfully, the Centurions seemed to still be far away.

They had just reached the exit when something caught Ellen's attention at the corner of her eyes. She turned and cried out. Cavil stood at the doorway of another room, shock registering for a second before fury took over. He looked her directly in the eyes and something clicked in her head. This man hated her. He was going to kill her and enjoy it.

"Hurry! GO!" she yelled. Just a few more seconds and they could yell for Human aid in the forest. They'd just made it out when Ellen felt a pain shoot up her right leg from her ankle and she fell forward as her leg gave out beneath her. Bill sagged into Boomer.

"Admiral?!" someone shouted in an Eight's voice. Ellen barely had time to see another Eight standing before them with wide eyes, dressed identically to Boomer. But her hair was different, held back by a ponytail.

Then she looked back and saw why she'd fallen. A bullet had gone through her ankle in a clean shot. She looked up at the still-struggling Bill and the two Eights, the former of who was also struggling under the Admiral's weight.

They weren't getting away if they had to pull them both. And she knew, truer than anything she'd ever known, that she was the one who had to try and save herself. The Fleet needed Bill.

"You don't get it, woman. I go because it's the only thing I can do that makes me more than a drunk. Bill and the Valkyrie serve something better than me."

Those had been Saul's words years back when she'd angrily accused him of running away simply to avoid her. But now she saw the truth in them. A weak smile, and a shake of her head, and the two Cylons took hold of Bill and ran.

She tried to drag herself to the treeline, but something stepped on her wounded ankle and she cried out in pain.

"Hello, Ellen,," Cavil said, flipping her over roughly. She looked up into his face and smirked in defiance. She was dead already.

"I love you, Saul."