A/N: I just wanted to point out to the nay-sayers who couldn't see Sam Anders trusting Boomer in my story that the previews for season three clearly shows them working side by side. Maybe my concept that Boomer and Six sparing his life in the parking garage on Caprica, as well as my twist that she helped Anders survive the bout of pneumonia being the basis for his trust isn't so far fetched after all. Thanks for reading, hope you enjoy.
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Doc Cottle wasn't exactly surprised when Sharon Valerii appeared at his tent, not since having witnessed the incident with Sam Anders anyway. His real surprise was that it had taken so long for her to approach. When the bag had been found with the instruments that could have made Cally's birthing ordeal slightly more bearable, albeit too late to do any good, he'd suspected she was the culprit. The first words to cross her lips were enough to confirm his suspicions, at least, to his way of thinking anyway.
"What do you need in order to save her?" she asked without preamble.
"Cally?" he asked blandly. It was phrased as a rhetorical question; she knew it as well as he did. "She's in need of a blood transfusion for starters. I have the volunteers, just no sterilized equipment to work with."
"Just tell me everything you need, and which of your ships it's hidden away on. I'll try and see you have it by nightfall," she instructed.
He looked at her, consideringly for a long quiet moment before he spoke. What he said took her by surprise.
"Why are you so intent on helping?"
She looked away, unwilling to meet the old man's eyes. "I owe him," she mumbled, almost incoherently.
"What was that?" he coaxed. He'd heard her, wasn't even quite sure why it mattered so much to him to hear her say it again. Perhaps he just wanted justification to his theory that she couldn't let go of her past memories of the Chief, from before her Cylon nature had presented itself, the part of her that still made her think and feel like she was a human
If she still thought of herself as human, it would go a long way in explaining her willingness to help save Sam Anders' life, not once but twice it seemed. But the more he thought about it, the more questions arose. What made her different from the rest of her Cylon brethren? Why would she be so reluctant to give up the phony memories they'd given her? Was that what made her so intent on helping the humans to live?
And it wasn't just this reincarnated version of the Boomer they'd all known on the Galactica, the other one was different too. At least, she had been until they'd stolen her child. She'd killed off hundreds of her own kind by unleashing a virus into them. What was different about them?
Sharon's voice brought him out of his musings. "I. Owe. Him," she carefully enunciated.
"How's that?"
"Don't play stupid, Doc, it really doesn't become you," she retorted. The old man just continued to watch her face, as though he'd remain silent until she spoke. Even though every minute wasted could mean the difference between Cally's life and death. That thought made her relent.
"I ruined his life once before," she admitted softly. "And he's rebuilt it with…with her," she couldn't bring herself to say Cally's name. "He's already lost his child, he can't lose his wife too, not if I have the means stop it."
The doctor hesitated only briefly, as though measuring the sincerity of her words. At last he began to speak, carefully instructing her of the whereabouts of the needed tools. Sharon listened intently, committing his list of equipment and locations to memory. She wouldn't allow herself to fail, for the Chief's sake, she couldn't.
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"Caprica Six. What a surprise to find you here," Dorel said from the tent's opening. "Quite a step down from Colonial One, isn't it? But I forget Gina's there to take care of the President now."
She turned towards him, giving him a disdainful look even as her mind raced. How much had he heard of her conversation with Roslin? It couldn't be much, not if he was taunting her with Gina and Gaius rather than demanding they hand over the child. "Dorel," she acknowledged briefly before turning her attention back to the former president.
Fear was evident on the Laura's face; she was oblivious to the gibes about Gina, that they were proof that Hera was safe from him, at least in the short term.
"What are you doing here, Caprica Six?" the smarmy little Cylon demanded as he stepped towards them, gloating smile on his face as usual. It was impossible to see that smile without thinking that perhaps he was three steps ahead of whatever you were planning.
Six thought quickly, hoping that Roslin proved better at lying then she did concealing her emotions. She smiled at him as she formulated a plan. What better way to get back at Dorel than to throw his mocking of the name the other Cylons had bestowed upon her for her part in their victory right back into his face and use it for her cover story. "I was curious to see how your grand new history of the 12 colonies was coming along. And what my role in it would be."
The not so subtle innuendo that he would somehow downplay the important part she'd played in the invasion of colonies wasn't lost on the vain little Cylon, momentarily wiping the smile from his face. It was a shallow victory for Six, but a victory nonetheless. She knew that if, in is vanity, he downplayed her role in the Cylon victory, it would lead others of their kind to accusations of jealousy on his part. However, criticizing her for boasting of it would do the same. He was trapped and he knew it. Cylons were supposed to be equals after all.
"Your work in securing access to the human defense network will of course be noted," he hedged.
"And what about my accomplice?" she asked, sparing a brief glance at Roslin. Laura's confusion was as evident on her face as her fear, and for a moment Six was uncertain if she should continue. This would be the risky part of her ploy. If Dorel bought into her boasting, it may help to divert some of the little Cylon's suspicions away from where her loyalties lie. If he didn't, if he pursued the truth about why she was in this tent and saw the child himself, nothing Six could do would protect her. And any thoughts she may have had about saving humans from extinction would be lost. She went with her instincts.
"Will President Baltar's name go down in this new history? Will you make him known as the man who helped bring about the end of the human race?"
Roslin's sharply indrawn breath was the only sound in the tent for a few moments, drawing the attention of both Cylons to her. Six shot her a look so loaded with meaning you could almost hear her say, 'Do not say anything he'll make you regret.'
"Does that surprise you President Roslin?" Dorel took the opportunity to sneer at her. He was actually surprised, and pleased even, that Six had made the announcement of Baltar's betrayal. Perhaps she wasn't entirely a threat to the Cylon people after all. "How does it feel to know that one of your own is almost single-handedly responsible for the downfall of the human race? And that your people foolishly elected him as their leader," he gloated. "A man who very willingly surrendered his people with absolutely no thought of fighting back."
To her credit, Laura recovered quickly, although she was still flustered as she started to speak. She'd come to suspect the worst about Baltar, but nothing had prepared her for the outright brutal truth of his betrayals. Taking a deep breath to calm herself before she spoke, she fought the urge to look at the female Cylon she now knew was called 'Caprica Six.'
"Not exactly," she responded coolly. Oddly enough, once she began speaking a calmness she hadn't expected washed over her. "We've always suspected that there had to be a leak in our defenses somewhere. I thank you for confirming my….. suspicions about the current president of the colonies. And for introducing me to his accomplice, although I must admit, she did a rather nice job of doing that herself. Caprica Six. Caprica. An honorary name for her role in the holocaust I presume."
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Kara was still fuming over her meeting with Leobon as she stomped back towards the building site. She was desperately trying to figure out what the Cylon's game was. What was his interest in her childhood? In her? Was this just about revenge for her part of his interrogation and death aboard the Galactica?
The anger he'd provoked in her left her wanting to punch someone. Or drown herself in a bottle of ambrosia, although that usually landed her back in the wanting to punch someone frame of mind. Either way, she longed for a punching bag and the gym aboard the Galactica. The Galactica. Why had she ever let Sam talk her into leaving? She shook her head, not wanting to dwell on those thoughts.
Instead, she focused on her meeting with Leobon once more. She'd gotten some satisfaction out of the knowledge that she'd thrown him a little bit, asking him about his experience in the airlock. About his fears, his death. He hadn't quite been prepared for her to question him back, leastwise not about that. No, he'd been expecting her to ask about Caprica. Maybe even for her to beg for the answers she craved. But that didn't explain his questions.
Pondering what he'd asked her, trying to look for some hint or clue of what he was after, she was nearly oblivious to her surroundings, right up until she crashed into Sam.
"Kara? Where've you been? I've been looking all over for you."
He grasped her upper arms in his hands, turning her to face him. For a moment she couldn't meet his eyes, guilt over the secrets she'd kept from him weighing heavily on her mind.
She fought to get her emotions under control, to focus her anger solely on its cause: Leobon.
"Kara, where were you?" he asked again. She could hear the worry in voice as well as the anger. And there was no doubt Sam was angry with her.
She debated with herself for all of half a second before coming to a decision. "Not here, there's too many of them around."
He knew instinctively who 'them' was, the Cylons. "Our tent. Now," he responded curtly, releasing his hold on her left arm, and adjusting his hold on the other until he was propelling her forward. She dug her heels into the dirt, resisting.
"By the Gods Sam! Why the frak don't you just announce it to the toasters," she bit out.
They came to a halt, both glaring at each other. "Ten minutes, our tent," he said, fear of the unknown lending fuel to his anger. "Then you can tell me what the frak 'it' is that you don't want the toasters knowing about.
"Ten minutes," she agreed, thankful for the reprieve. It gave her a few more minutes to come up with a coherent explanation. Sam wasn't going to like this dangerous new game of hers any more than she did.
With a final long look into each others' eyes, they parted, each heading in the opposite direction.
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William Adama hastened towards the detention cells, his son hot on his heels.
"Admiral, what are you going to say to him?" Apollo asked to his father's back.
William's step hardly faltered at the question. He was back to being 'Admiral' to his son, always a good indication of Lee's anger with him. "I'll decide after I know how much she's told him," he answered vaguely.
"You're making a mistake."
"Possibly, but it won't be the first one I've made in life. Gods willing it won't be the last," the old man answered as they reached the hatchway. Without pausing, he spun the latch, pulling the entryway open and striding inside.