Where are the weapons now?" Colonel Tigh demanded without preamble the moment Jammer entered the temple. The younger man kneeled down before the altar, bowing his head a moment in respect before responding.
"We split them up, for the time being anyway. We're floating them from tent to tent among the resistance, but we can't keep that up for long. We need to find a more permanent home for them. Everyone's getting nervous the toasters are going to find the guns in their possession and execute them on site."
It was a not so subtle reminder that they were walking a dangerous line by trying to hide guns and ammunition from the Cylons. Two weeks before seven of their members had been shot while trying to bury a crate of guns in the forest. Ever since then their small band of resistance had been pushed to the edge trying to come up with new places to stash their small supply of munitions. It wasn't helping them garner new recruits to their cause either.
"What about the rest of our weapons?"
Jammer rose to his feet, meeting the old Colonel's eyes across the top of the altar. "So far they seem to be secure. I don't know where Gaeta's been getting his information about when and where the toasters are searching, but so far he's been able to warn us before they make a move."
"Too bad he couldn't have shared some of that wisdom two weeks ago. He could have saved some lives," Tigh argued.
"We didn't know the toasters were on to us then."
"We can't let ourselves become too dependent on Gaeta's information, if he's spying on them, it's only a matter of time before they figure it out, and when they do he's as good as dead."
"I'm sure he's well aware of the risks, Colonel. We all are."
"I'm not concerned about that," Tigh responded, uncaring of the callousness of his words. "We need to be prepared to act if we lose our informant."
Jammer chose to ignore the old man's words and instead broached another potential problem. "There's been some talk that Anders' group has managed to squirrel away some considerable firepower but no one seems to know where."
"That's no good. What use are weapons if we can't get our hands on them?"
"Not exactly no one, Sir. The remnants of the Caprica resistance have been very active in getting the weapons out of the encampment and concealed."
"Anders' people," scoffed Tigh. "Our people are the ones with all of the tactical military experience; they should be joining our ranks, not going off half-cocked on their own."
"They may not have our training, Sir, but they sure as hell managed to survive back on Caprica. Not only that, but they managed to cause the toasters plenty of trouble in the process. They're organized and ready to fight."
"We should be combining our efforts," argued Tigh.
"Agreed, but at least we know what they're capable of. We can work on Starbuck; get her to bring Anders' group into our fold."
"What about the Chief? He was in pretty tight with Anders' people before the invasion. How soon can we expect him to be rejoining the fight?"
"By the Gods, Colonel! The man just lost his child; he might still lose his wife! The last thing on his mind right now is where to hide a bunch of guns, much less the resistance movement."
"Nothing is more important than fighting back. Nothing, you'd do well to remember that."
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As Sharon was escorted down the corridor towards the Admiral's quarters she couldn't help but wonder what he would throw at her to try and convince her to say on board his ship. He wanted her to remain his prisoner, of that she was certain. She almost smiled as she recalled the look on his face when his own son had offered her sanctuary aboard the Pegasus. That's what she saw it as anyway.
Most of those thoughts were pushed aside as she stepped inside the Admiral's quarters. There her attention was drawn to a news program airing on a small screen. The fact that the humans still felt the need to broadcast some sort of news despite most of them now being imprisoned back on New Caprica wasn't what piqued her curiosity. No, it was more of a matter of who was reporting that drew her attention.
"Sergeant, remove the prisoner's restraints and wait outside."
The order returned Sharon's attention to the matter at had. What was the Admiral's game? Did he think he could earn her trust again that easily?
"But Admiral…"
"It's okay, son. Remove her restraints and wait outside," William commanded once again.
With reluctance, the soldier did as he was ordered for the second time that day. He paused briefly as he exited the room, turning once to look at the prisoner. The look he sent to Sharon spoke volumes, and she could practically hear his thoughts. 'I'll be right outside this door and I will bust through it shooting if I think you're causing the old man any harm.'
She had to admit it, if only to herself, the loyalty of the fleet to their Admiral was commendable, if a little misguided. After all, he'd locked her up when all she'd wanted to do was live peaceably among them with Helo and Hera. And apparently he allowed D'Anna Biers free access to the fleet. Sometimes it amazed her that the human race had survived this long.
"Have a seat….Sharon," William said, gesturing towards the small sofa.
She hesitated a few moments, turning to the newscast again, before finally settling herself on the edge of a cushion. "That must have been difficult for you."
"What?"
"Using my name again, humanizing me. Makes it harder for you to treat me like an animal doesn't it?" Her voice was cold and her eyes watched him, measuring for any sign of weakness.
"I can't say I don't have some….regrets, about how you've been treated." He turned away as he spoke, reaching for the volume control. Had she been paying attention to his actions rather than his words, Sharon would have been surprised to realize he was leaving the broadcast on. Sharing information about the fleet with her, if she'd cared to view it.
Instead, Sharon laughed humorlessly at his comment. "Regrets? You lock me in a cell, steal my child, then use her against me to…to blackmail me into cooperating with you and I'm supposed to go along with it all because you have some regrets?"
"No. But I do ask that you at least hear me out."
"I'm listening."
"I put you in that detention cell for a number of reasons, first and foremost because you are one of the enemy."
"All I ever did was help your people. I stole the freighter that returned Starbuck, Helo, and the Arrow of Apollo to you. I saved your life on Kobol. I eliminated the Cylon virus from the Galactica and turned it against my own kind. How did that make me the enemy?"
"You were still one of them, no matter what your actions to the contrary may have been. The other Sharon, she sabotaged the ship without ever seeming to be consciously aware of what she was doing. It was almost like she was being controlled by remote. How were we to know if you'd be any different?" he countered.
She wasn't surprised by the question; it was something she herself had pondered during the long course of her captivity. She shared with him her own theory. "The difference is in the awareness."
"I don't understand."
"The Boomer you knew was a sleeper agent, unaware of her own true nature until the time came for her to be activated. Up until then she saw herself as Sharon Valerii, human. She had the same memories of her family, of her childhood that any other soldier in the fleet would have had. She remembered the tragic death of her parents like she'd actually lived through it. For all intents and purposes, she was human."
Sharon hesitated, expecting the Admiral to ask questions. When he remained silent she continued on.
"Then the attack came, and once we realized how many humans had managed to escape the destruction of the colonies, she was activated along with the rest of the sleepers. But in her case, she took to her humanization too fully, the memories, the friendships, her life, it all worked against her. In the end, her conscious mind couldn't accept what her programming demanded of her."
"The blackouts," Adama murmured. "She wiped out the memories of what she was doing to hurt the fleet."
"Exactly. I guess you could say it's the first documented case of a Cylon with split personality disorder."
"So how can we be certain that that type of thing won't happen to you?" William asked, finally voicing aloud one of his greatest fears about her. In his mind he was seeing her standing in front of him on the bridge once more, bandage on her cheek, weapon in hand. It took him a moment to remember that it wasn't the same Sharon that now sat before him.
She leaned forward, resting her elbows against her knees and focusing her attention solely on him as she tried to explain just what it was that separated her from the other Sharon.
"I'm not a sleeper agent," she said at last. "I operate with my own free will. I knew exactly what I was being assigned to do when I infiltrated the human ranks by joining up with Helo. I just never thought I'd fall in love with him."
"Love," he said bitterly. "What do a bunch of machines know about love?"
"We're flesh and blood creatures, just like yourself."
"You're a machine."
"Partially," she conceded. "But we're still human enough to share your functions, eating, sleeping, breathing, reproduction. We feel emotions, love, hate, fear, desire."
"That's just programming," he argued.
"No. The programming just gives us the basics, memories of a past, a childhood we never experienced, family we never had. It's what God creates for us. The rest of it…I don't know how to explain. I experienced life, just like any other person. The choices I made, those were mine. If I'd followed my programming, I'd still be apart of the Cylon collective. I would have left Helo to die on Caprica..." Her voice trailed off. This was not how she'd planned this meeting to go. She'd expected Adama to threaten, to grovel…to do anything but just talk to her.
More surprising still, despite all of her anger, she couldn't seem to hold anything back. For once they were both laying their cards out on the table, trying to understand why they'd done the things they'd done. It triggered memories of what she knew of the other Boomer, the relationship the old man had once held with most of his crew. Maybe she could understand after all the loyalty to this man by the remnants of the fleet.
"It's hard for me to separate you in my mind," William admitted grudgingly.
"The other Sharon."
"Yes, you and Boomer. I look at you and I still see her, bandaged face, flight suit…that expressionless face….and then the gun raises…."
"I'm not that Sharon. And she wasn't the Sharon you knew either, not in that moment."
William nodded silently. It was harder than he'd imagined it would be, reliving that moment. He was a little surprised at himself for allowing this conversation to go as far as it had. He'd hoped to play against the emotions this Sharon had always professed to having. He'd hoped to use them against her and convince her to help them on his terms. Instead here he was confessing to her his greatest fears, reliving his brush with death.
"You're saying she was experiencing one of those black outs again?"
"Most likely. From the memories of her that I share…"
"I thought you weren't connected that way?" he asked, his voice taking on a harshness that she recognized as fear.
"We're not. I have the same childhood memories programmed into me as your Boomer did. Then I was provided all the minute, seemingly unimportant details of her life among you, her friends, lovers, favorite foods even…..everything. I was given all the tools to become the Sharon you knew, to a degree anyway. "
"What do you mean given?"
"Our spies aboard your ships provided me with the information I needed."
"Dorel and Leobon," William supplied.
"Among others," she agreed. "Any time a Raider came in close enough range, it was possible for one of the agents to download their reconnaissance reports."
Her casual acknowledgement that there had indeed been other agents among the fleet, on his ship frustrated him more than it surprised him. And the knowledge of how easily the information could be passed on to the Cylon fleet staggered him. How many times had it happened right before their unknowing eyes?
Something else bothered him about her confession too. Brother Cavil had been discovered on board the Galactica, and the escaped Cylon from the Pegasus had destroyed the Cloud Nine. How long had she known about them? Was she lying about being unable to communicate with them somehow?
As if reading his mind, she answered his unspoken question. "I knew back on Caprica that the Cavil we found with the Resistance was a Cylon, but I didn't know about the one on the Galactica until he was brought into the detention center," she admitted. "As for the other one, you can hide me away from all the newscasts in the fleet, but the rumors will still spread, even to your prisoners."
It seemed a reasonable explanation, but William couldn't shake that lingering doubt in his mind. Was she really telling him the truth?
"It's been nearly an hour," she announced suddenly. "I'd like to return to the Pegasus with Helo and Apollo now."
"You'll be much safer here on the Galactica," he argued.
"In a detention cell," she said, her voice full of disdain.
"Whether you want to admit it or not there are still plenty of people left in the fleet who'd like nothing better than to see you dead."
"I'll take my chances."
"You'll be of more use to our battle strategy…"
"Battle strategy? You're really grasping at straws here," she chuckled.
"How can I be sure you'll keep up your end of the bargain?"
"You can't, not any more than I can be sure you'll uphold your end. Or that you've spoken the truth at all. So until we're both standing on New Caprica, and I'm holding Hera in my arms, we'll both just have to wonder."
She rose to her feet, looking at him expectantly before saying, "I guess I'm free to go join Helo now. Isn't that right? You did make a deal with Lee after all."
He knew she was testing him now, waiting to see if he would keep his word. "Yes, you're free to go. I'll see that the Sergeant escorts you to the ready room."
She nodded, following him to the door and waiting silently as he gave the Marine his orders. She fought back a smile at the expression of horror on the guard's face when William waved off the restraints. As the guard began leading her away, she paused, turning to the Admiral one more time.
"That reporter, the one on the newscast when I walked in," she said.
"D'Anna Biers. What about her?"
"I just thought you'd be interested in knowing that she's a Cylon." This time, as she turned away and strode after the guard she didn't resist the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. The game was on, and she'd just scored.
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A/N: The fall out from the meeting between Sharon Valerii and William Adama is just beginning.