Chapter 13
Battlestar Galactica – Ship's Morgue - Colonial Fleet
"I'm certain Dr. Cottle will be here shortly," Adama growled through gritted teeth.
As the wait for the fleet's CMO dragged on, he tried hard to restrain the initial flashes of his temper. There were three people in the ship's morgue with him, the three officers of the Thirteenth Tribe.
They were all there waiting on Cottle and Adama didn't want to be in that damned room in the first place. Seeing both of the Cylon bodies stored there was certain to stir bitter memories he'd fought long and hard to suppress. Also, in addition to the disquiet he experienced personally, the morgue wasn't meant to hold that many observers, so space was tight and a little too close for comfort.
While they waited, he'd opened the drawers to reveal the naked bodies of the thing that had masqueraded as a man and the other thing that had masqueraded as the worst Raptor wrangler in the universe he'd happened to have loved like a daughter. Now they lay on stainless steel platforms that made up the bottoms of their perspective drawers. The male thing's corpse rested stiffly on the cold steel nearest Adama. Its toes were pointed directly at the back of the drawer as if it were a cliff diver hurtling toward the surface of the ocean. Its synthetic blood had pooled, causing the underside of its corpse to look bruised. There was a huge gash on the left side of its forehead where Adama had fractured its skull with a flashlight months ago. Even now, Adama's hands balled into fists, his 'flight or fight' instinct screaming at him in his mind as he stared at the dead thing he'd known as Leoben Conoy as it lay in the drawer.
Now, forcing himself to maintain his composure in front of the Fleet officers, he turned his attention from Leoben's body and stared at the thing that looked like an attractive exotic-looking woman in the other drawer. Her face, although marred by small cuts and a large bruise, looked peaceful, as if it was simply asleep. It was when his eyes swept past its small breasts that, even now, he wouldn't allow his gaze to take in because of the paternal regard a part of him still had for the thing, he stared at the gunshot's entry wound in its stomach.
He grimaced at the sight of the lifeless rail-thin body before him. It was funny, he thought. It had fired two bullets into him almost in the exact place Henderson had shot Boomer itself. Yet, by some quirk of fate, he'd managed to live albeit due to the herculean efforts of both Doc Cottle and Ishay, while this machine, engineered to be better at almost everything than a human being, had died from a single bullet.
He blinked twice to clear the stinging ache from his old and tired eyes and glanced at the clock on the wall. He was about to apologize for his CMO's tardiness when Cottle crashed through the hatch.
"Sorry, I'm late," the elder physician grumbled. "I got held up by Specialist Henderson's procedure. Even with her jaw broken and wired shut, the girl still wanted to pester me with lots of questions and wouldn't shut the frak up."
Alarmed, Adama asked, "Doctor, what happened to Specialist Henderson?"
"Well, according to Chief Tyrol, he was in the middle of a bad dream after he'd fallen asleep in the hangar bay and the girl tried to wake him. Now anyone with half a brain should know you have to handle that kind of situation delicately but I guess I'm expecting too much from a gods damned knuckledragger. So while he was still lost in his nightmare, he struck her in the face several times. After he'd finally wakened from his dream, he'd realized what he'd done and carried her to my life station."
Adama closed his eyes for a moment and sighed heavily. Great, this was just frakking wonderful! After being tossed into the brig and hearing about an assault on one of the members of Adama's crew, Jackson and his people must think Galactica was the most frakked up ship in the galaxy!
"Anyway, Admiral," Cottle said, continuing with his report, "Henderson should be all right in a few weeks or so. However, she'll be eating her meals through a straw during that time. As for Tyrol, I've ordered him to get some counseling from Brother Cavil to help him deal with his issues."
"That's not good enough, Sherman!" Adama growled. "If the Chief has become a danger to himself and others, I need to take a harder line with him. I also have to address the breach of discipline he committed for falling asleep at his post. If he'd been in his rack, he wouldn't have had the opportunity to attack Specialist Henderson. I'll deal with the matter later. Right now, we need to get started with Dr. Dalle's examination of these corpses."
"Thank you, Admiral," the Fleet physician said. "Let's start with the male, shall we? How did he receive the apparent trauma to his
forehead?"
Adama drew himself up and began to speak in his gravelly voice. "It was after the Colonies had been attacked. The Galactica was defenseless and had to rearm. We jumped the Old Girl to the Ragnar Anchorage. The anchorage was an unmanned relic from the first Cylon war, placed inside the atmosphere of a gas giant that produced a form of radiation that degraded the silica pathways of the Centurions I'd fought years ago. Once we docked the ship and boarded the station, we found Leoben there, claiming to be an arms dealer looting the anchorage for merchandise to sell on the black market. After one of the deck crew inadvertently activated an explosive round, Leoben and I were cut off from the rest of my deck crew. While we were attempting to find a way back to my men, I noticed the radiation seemed to be affecting Leoben. I had a hunch and acted on it. I confronted Leoben and told him the reason he was dying on his feet was due to the radiation affecting his silica pathways.
Leoben then admitted he was a Cylon. It told me it couldn't truly die because its consciousness would download into another body. After I said I doubted he'd be able to download due to interference from the radiation, it attacked me, demonstrating it possessed strength enhanced beyond human norms by snapping off a metal pipe with one hand before it took a swing at me. After it nearly killed me, I managed to get the upper hand, most likely due to its rapid deterioration from the effects of the radiation, and bludgeoned it to death with a heavy flashlight."
"They brought me his body," Cottle said, apparently refusing to objectify the Cylon, "and I ran some tests on him. We discovered some unique chemical compounds in his cellular structure that revealed he was a synthetic organism."
While Cottle spoke, Dalle waved some sort of gizmo over Leoben's body. Soon, Dalle moved the device over the Cylon's skull. As the Fleet physician held the machine in place, he glanced at Adama. "Admiral, you said the gas giant emitted radiation that degraded silica pathways?"
"That's right."
The Fleet doctor nodded then moved to Boomer's body and waved the device over the corpse.
"Dr. Dalle, if you don't mind my asking, what exactly is the device you've got in your hot little hands and what exactly does it do?" Cottle asked.
"This is a portable medical scanner. It's designed to analyze vital organic functions and human physiology and to detect the presence of dangerous organisms. Its data banks also contain information on non-human races known to the Alliance, allowing a physician to treat other life-forms as well.
"Well," Cottle grunted, "ain't that just a kick in the head!"
The Fleet physician simply smiled before he returned to his examination. Dalle pressed several buttons on the device before the thing suddenly chirped at him. Then he returned to the side of Leoben's corpse and aimed the device at the dead Cylon's head. It chirped once again. The physician glanced up from his scanner at Cottle and asked, "Dr. Cottle, could you please come and take a look at this?"
The cranky CMO shuffled past both Adama and Jackson to reach the other doctor's side. "What am I looking at?"
"The digits on the screen represent the percentage of silica in the body of each corpse. I've had the display translated into the number system your people use."
"Okay."
"Now, watch as I point the scanner at Commander Stenger." Dalle then smiled at the woman and asked, "Lena, do you mind?"
"Not at all," she quipped. "Anything to advance the frontiers of science!"
Dalle scanned the woman's skull then showed the result to Cottle."
".003," Cottle said.
"Right," Dalle confirmed. "Admiral, may I scan you, sir?"
"Only if you promise to be gentle with me, Doctor," Adama jested.
"Don't worry, sir. I promise to respect you in the morning," the Fleet physician drawled.
After everyone in the room shared a laugh, Dalle aimed the device at Adama. "Dr. Cottle?"
The gruff physician peered over the younger man's shoulder then said, ".003, right on the nose."
The Fleet physician drew himself up and announced, "Commander Stenger, gentlemen, I believe we've found our Cylon infiltrator detector."
"Explain," Adama said.
"Of course, Admiral. As you may know, silica is an abundant mineral that makes up a substantial portion of the crusts of planets suitable for human life. Even so, it's somewhat incompatible to the function of the cells in our bodies. It's a diminutive component of our bodies, only .003 percent of our cellular structure. While that certainly is the case for us, it apparently isn't for the biological Cylons. My scanner shows it makes up 3 percent of their cellular structure. Now once I calibrate other portable scanners to scan the people in your fleet, we'll be able to uncover Cylon infiltrators."
A relieved smile dawned on Adama's craggy face. The Thirteenth Tribe really did have more advanced technology than the Colonials! "Doctor, that's excellent news! Would you be willing to work with Dr. Cottle and get the ball rolling?"
Dalle glanced at Jackson who simply nodded in agreement. Then he turned to Adama and said, "Of course, Admiral. May I also suggest that when the task force arrives on station, I work with its medical personnel to calibrate their scanners to assist in the screenings?"
Adama pursed his lips in thought for a moment. "Would these people you have in mind be human? I'd like to limit the exposure of my people to non-humans until we've brought my people up to speed about the non-human members of your alliance."
"I think we can accommodate your wishes for a short period of time, Admiral," Jackson noted. "Now while the physicians confer on how to go about conducting these scans, could Lena and I have a word with you about the type of security measures we need to take so both your personnel and ours are protected from death or injury by Cylons uncovered during the scans?"
"Of course, Captain," Adama said. "Please follow me," he said and led the pair of Fleet Intelligence officers out the hatchway into the corridor beyond.
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Battlestar Galactica – In the Corridor outside Baltar's Laboratory - Colonial Fleet
Sarah Porter, the Quorum's delegate from Gemenon, nervously eyed the military personnel that strode through the ancient ship's corridor alongside her. Soon, she came to a halt before a door and knocked on it.
Seconds later, the hatch swung open and she stepped through the doorway into a large room.
She sighed and felt a bit of her tension flitter away when she saw Marshall Bagot, the Virgon delegate was already there, along with Tom Zarek and Gaius Baltar. Having both of the other men in the room with her bolstered her courage.
Although she'd supported Zarek's unsuccessful bid for the Vice Presidency, she'd only done so to stick it to that uppity Caprican bitch, Roslin. Like most Capricans, Roslin looked down her nose at the Gemenons even though Porter's world had been the first planet colonized after the Exodus from Kobol.
However, as two-faced and conniving as Roslin was, when push came to shove, Porter suspected the former school teacher was nowhere near as ruthless as Zarek was. It was well-known by all the man was both an ex-con and a murderous terrorist. Sarah trusted him about as far as she could throw him.
Fortunately, Gaius Baltar had been voted into the position and had turned out to be far more than Roslin's puppet. Apparently, the charming and handsome scientist had discovered how duplicitous the Caprican woman could be and challenged her for the Presidency.
Turning to the doctor now, she asked, "Why did you ask us to meet you here, Mr. Vice President?"
He smiled and said, "Sarah, Marshall, thank you for coming. Tom and I wanted to talk to you about the Thirteenth Tribe's delegation."
"All right then. What is it you have to say?" Bagot asked.
"Well, for one," Zarek growled, "I'd like to talk to them in a substantive fashion rather than being led by the nose through one of Roslin's choreographed dog and pony shows!"
"Also," Baltar added, "what do we know about these people? Let me tell you; we don't know a gods' damned thing about them!" Now he began to pace as he spoke. "They didn't tell us anything about either their military or industrial capabilities. In fact, they told us nothing about Earth herself. Although it seems they have managed to form some sort of an 'alliance,' I wonder if it truly is a confederation of several of their colony worlds or is it all just puffery? Another thing we must consider is what would happen if the Cylons run across one of the Thirteenth Tribe's colonies and destroyed it as they did with our homes? Would our 'brothers and sisters' suddenly turn on us and deliver us to the Cylons in order to save themselves?"
Sarah snapped, "Doctor! Get ahold of yourself! Although it may be fair to say we don't know much about our brothers and sisters, we do know they're human, just like us. I don't, not for a single minute, believe they'd abandon us to the Cylons!"
"Until we know more about them, I wouldn't bet my life on that, Sarah," Zarek observed. "For all we know, the members of the Thirteenth Tribe could be raging monotheists like the Cylons! If so, their tribe may believe they have more in common with the machines than with us."
She shot a concerned look at Bagot and was discomforted by the fact she spied the same uncertainty she felt reflected in his eyes. She sighed heavily then said, "Very well, Tom. I agree we need more information about the Thirteenth Tribe. What do you propose we should do to address this matter?"
"We need to demand that Roslin schedule another Quorum meeting and demand she'd have Jackson and Stenger present themselves to answer our questions. However, this time, the format should be more like an inquest so we can get to the bottom of what the hell has been going on aboard the Galactica during the past few days," Zarek growled.
"I agree we need more information but I don't think we want to act belligerently toward Jackson and his aide," Bagot said. "I also don't want us to belittle Roslin's security concerns, either. Even though she may be a tin-plated dictator with delusions concerning her relationship with the Lords of Kobol, she's dead right about the possibility of Cylon infiltrators carrying out terrorist attacks against both the Thirteenth Tribe and us."
"That's certainly true, Marshall," Baltar drawled. "Until I'm able to complete my work on the Cylon detector and use it to ferret out the machines hidden among us, we must be mindful of the danger and use prudence in releasing any information about the Thirteenth Tribe to the fleet at large. However, the need for security notwithstanding, as the representatives of the people, the Quorum shouldn't be kept in the dark about the true nature of the Thirteenth Tribe!"
A somewhat doubtful looking Bagot nodded and said, "All right, Gaius, I'll agree to support you in this only after Roslin has told the fleet about encountering the Thirteenth Tribe. Until then, we should unconditionally support both Adama and her."
"Actually, Marshall," Sarah added, "I don't think we should confront Roslin with this until the Thirteenth Tribe's task force arrives and begins to distribute relief supplies. We don't want to do anything to jeopardize that effort."
She glanced at Bagot and Zarek, who both nodded in affirmation of her proposal. Then she regarded Baltar who smiled brightly at her.
"I suppose we are all in agreement then?"
"Yes," she said.
"Splendid!" Baltar exclaimed.
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