Chapter 18

PRESS ROOM – COLONIAL ONE – COLONIAL FLEET

"Thank you all for being so patient. I'll take your questions now," President Roslin announced from her podium.

After the most shocking political address in the history of the Twelve Colonies of Kobol, nearly every reporter in the room shouted out Laura Roslin's title to attempt to draw the woman's attention. However, at the moment, D'Anna Biers couldn't be bothered to continue her masquerade as the news hound who'd fight tooth and nail to get the story.

When she, along with Christopher Bell, her cameraman, and his family had fled the Colonies after her people's obliteration of the humans' worlds, she really hadn't had a good reason for maintaining her cover as a journalist. Then the Eight who'd seduced Karl Agathon on Caprica and had borne his child found her way to Adama's and Roslin's 'happy' little fleet. Thus, when the One who posed as a lay clergyman on the Galactica had suggested she'd become a suicide bomber to take a few of the humans with her before she downloaded and relayed the fleet's position to the others, she'd pointedly told him to go frak himself. She'd discovered a new purpose: to report the news about the Eight's pregnancy to the Collective.

However, when the Eight's baby died shortly after childbirth, Biers had found it difficult to press on. At that terrible moment, she'd finally known the sense of hopelessness that every human felt when they'd lost someone so precious, so irreplaceable, they had a gaping maw in the pit of their soul.

Surprisingly, she'd managed to keep going, mostly due to the ties she'd forged with Bell, his daughter Tina, and Anastasia Dualla. During the report Biers filed about the people who protected the Colonial refugee fleet, D'Anna had been confused for a day or two about her own reaction to Dualla's story about the petty officer's father until it had finally dawned on her that Dualla had been crushed by the realization she'd never be able to tell her now dead father that she hadn't meant the harsh words she'd uttered in haste; she'd never be able to tell him how much she'd truly loved him. Later, after the child's death, D'Anna had suspected she'd known full well how badly Dualla had felt about lost possibilities.

Now, she honestly didn't know what to think after having listened to Roslin's address. She blinked twice as she tried to process what Roslin had just told them. They'd actually found the Thirteenth Tribe?! They'd found another tribe of humans?!

If that was indeed the case, the Collective needed to know about this development as soon as possible! However, she hadn't had any contact with the Heavy Raiders that had transmitted her report back to the others on Caprica ever since the fleet had given her people the slip over a month ago. Since the fleet had come to a halt to launch Starbuck's Search and Rescue mission back to the Colonies, that unexpected pause must have surely thrown the Collective's search pattern algorithm completely out of whack.

Suddenly, Laura Roslin's quiet, school marm's voice sliced through the cacophony of the press corps and drew Biers back into her reporter mode.

"James, I'll take your question now. By the way, I like the tie you're wearing today," the woman offered with a bright smile and McManus nodded to the former schoolteacher.

"Thank you, Madame President. I have a two part question. First, has the Quorum of Twelve met with the Thirteenth Tribe's delegation and during that meeting was there any consideration given to expanding the Quorum to thirteen members and offering the other tribe a seat at the table?"

Roslin gave the man a queer look for several moments before she responded. "Yes, the delegation has met with the representatives of the people. However, the meeting concerned matters of security that I am not at liberty to divulge at the moment. Suffice it to say, we did not consider any expansion of the Quorum at this time." The President then looked out at her audience until she recognized another reporter. "Yes, Jennifer Logan, do you have a question?"

"Madame President, was Vice President Baltar, your opponent in the upcoming election, a party to the discussions with the Thirteenth Tribe's delegation?"

Biers noticed the slight frown on the elder woman's face at the mention of the scientist's name. Well, well, look at that! It must be true that there's no love lost between the man she selected for political expediency and her. Well, it serves her right for choosing the prat in the first place! she mused.

"The Vice President was present in the closed door meeting the Quorum held with the delegation. Over the past few hours, I've been told that Dr. Baltar has taken ill. He is currently unable to see anyone until he recovers. Although I'm certain he would have liked to have been here for this press conference, I applaud his selflessness in staying in his quarters to avoid passing his illness to others."

After she'd finished with Logan's question, several other reporters shouted for Roslin's attention. "All right, people, simmer down! I promise I'll get to everyone. Raul Kimmit of the Colonial Dispatch, what's on your mind?"

"Thank you for taking my question, Madame President. You've said the other tribe has dispatched a task force of warships to assist us. Is the Thirteenth Tribe sending any battlestars as elements of the task force?"

"Well, Raul, that's actually a tough question for a civilian like me to field, but I'll do my best," she said amid polite laughter from the members of the press. "It is my understanding they don't refer to the ships that function similarly to our battlestars by that name. They call the equivalent to our battlestars 'battle carriers.' As was the case in our own fleet before the Cylon attack, there are many ships that serve as escorts to a battlestar. That is true as well for the Thirteenth Tribe. However, I've been told their escorts are formidable warships in their own right. Also, it may interest you to know the name of the battle carrier they are sending to assist us is the Hermes."

D'Anna barely managed to stop herself from snorting in disgust. What the frak?! The frakking thing's named after the mythological Messenger of the Lords of Kobol? For God's sakes, are the members of this new tribe of humans sinful idolaters just like the rest of their Colonial brethren?" she wondered.

Almost at the exact moment D'Anna had asked herself the question, Playa Palacios called out to the President. Biers frowned at the back of the other journalist's head. She had it on good authority that Playa had whored herself out to that egotistical jack-ass, Gaius Baltar, in a men's room, for heaven's sakes, so she could obtain an exclusive interview from the bastard. The Cylon took a dim view of that. Although she was an infiltrator, she still had both her standards and journalistic integrity. She'd never engage in such a conflict of interest as that. Also, she'd never sell herself or her body to obtain a frakking story.

Now, D'Anna heard the little slut ask, "Madame President, are you saying the people of the Thirteenth Tribe worship the Lords of Kobol as we do, for the most part?"

"Actually, Playa, I haven't said anything of the sort. To be truthful, matters pertaining to faith have not been addressed whatsoever during our consultations with the other tribe's delegates. What I can say is there does appear to be threads of commonality between our tribes and the Thirteenth. After all, they honor the Lords by naming the vessels that protect their people after them as we do. Next question?"

"Madame President, David Eick, the Daily Chronicle. You said in your address the Thirteenth Tribe's task force 'shall accompany us back to the capital world' of this sector of space. If that's the case, how many worlds does the Thirteenth Tribe have?"

Roslin appeared to hesitate for a moment before she responded to the man's question. "According to the officer in charge of the Thirteenth Tribe's delegation, their tribe inhabits dozens of worlds, of which Earth is the seat of their government. Additionally, they have many colony worlds, too."

D'Anna's eyes opened wide as saucers at that. Dozens of worlds and a plethora of colonies?! She pondered that revelation for a moment before she smirked after she realized how ludicrous it sounded. During the two thousand years since the Colonials had left Kobol, they'd only managed to have a population of twenty billion humans on twelve planets, she reasoned. If the Thirteenth has dozens of planets yet the population density of a single tribe, even with a two thousand year head start on the other Kobolians, how many frakking humans could the Thirteenth possibly have?!

"Madame President?" a woman broke the uncomfortable silence that had cloaked the room after Roslin had answered Eick's question. "Sandra Gerard."

"Yes, Sandra."

"Madame President, did the delegation tell you how many humans live on the Thirteenth Tribe's worlds?"

D'Anna smiled. Great frakking question, Gerard! the Cylon cheered inwardly. I'm certain that Cavil, you and I want to know the answer to that sixty-four thousand cubit question right frakking now!

"Well…" the President paused, seemingly in an attempt to gather herself before she pressed on. "Although we have no way of confirming this number at this point in time, the delegation has told us, far from being one step away from extinction, the human race is alive and well in their part of the galaxy. According to a recent census conducted by their government, the delegation has represented to us that six trillion men, women and children inhabit the worlds governed by Earth's alliance."

D'Anna, along with everyone else in the room, was speechless. If a pin had dropped at that point in time, the sound would have been deafening. The Cylon, for the first time in her relatively brief lifespan, was completely gobsmacked. She felt her mouth move but no sound issued forth from it. Six trillion humans!? her mnd screamed. Dear God in heaven! If Laura Roslin's telling the truth, the Collective would never have the resources to wage war against six trillion people! And if the Thirteenth Tribe's navy is on par with the Colonial Fleet before we used the back door to defeat it, there's no frakking way we could beat them!

Suddenly, someone was brave enough to shatter the silence. "Madame President."

"Yes, Mr. Hamilton."

"How advanced are the Thirteenth Tribe's warships in comparison to our battlestars?" Sekou asked.

Roslin regarded the former sports reporter with a bemused look for a second before she said, "I know it's difficult, Sekou; however, I believe the wisest course of action is to wait and see. As an aside, I do have it on good authority that their vessels are equipped with powerful energy weapons as well as missiles that are faster and deadlier than ours. Their ships supposedly are much faster than our own in normal space and their fighter craft are faster than Vipers and equipped with energy weapons, too."

D'Anna sighed dejectedly. I fervently pray Roslin is just yanking our frakking chains with feldergarb she'd dreamt up during one of her chamalla binges because if she's right about all this, the Cylons are well and truly frakked if the Thirteenth Tribe decides to come after us for what we did to the Colonies!

After hearing about the nearly preternatural capabilities of the Thirteenth Tribe for so long, Biers finally couldn't contain herself any longer. "Madame President!"

"Yes, Ms. Biers."

D'Anna narrowed her eyes minutely. So, she didn't call me by my first name, eh? I guess she's still miffed about that piece I did on the Galactica. Good! she noted smugly to herself. That means I did my job well. Biers then asked her question. "Although it's wonderful to hear about the capabilities of the Thirteenth Tribe second-hand, would it be possible for the press corps to actually question a member of its delegation so we can hear it straight from the horse's mouth, so to speak?"

"Although that's something I cannot commit to on behalf of the delegation, I will ask its leader to see if something can be arranged."

Biers nodded. "That's all I ask, Madame President. Thank you."

"You're welcome, Ms. Biers," she said, her pleasant-looking face an effective mask for the ruthless Caprican politician hiding inside. "Anything else?"

When no one said anything, Roslin smiled. "Well, I suppose I should end this press conference and allow you all to file your reports. I'm certain after the Earth task force is on station and we have a chance to interact with more of their people, you'll have plenty of material to keep your listeners and readers informed. Thank you and good evening."

After the President had left the podium and the members of the press corps had all stood politely as she exited the room, everyone left to file their stories, except for D'Anna. She simply sat down and hugged herself, attempting to suppress the sudden chill that would not fade away.

#

Battlestar Galactica – The Brig - Colonial Fleet

Gunnery Sergeant Erin Mathias was all 'business as usual' when she marched into the brig garbed in her black duty uniform. This evening, her blonde hair was tightly knotted in its typical on-duty pony tail. Last night, though, the pony tail was a distant memory when she spied her skillful lover through the curtain of her long hair while she'd squirmed and sighed under the many kisses from her personal nymph. When Erin shared Dulceata's bed with her civilian lover, the woman always managed to make Erin feel like her entire body was aflame. Why, except for the fact that Dulce was a prostitute who enjoyed frakking men almost as much as she enjoyed frakking Erin and the fleet was constantly on the run from the frakking Cylons, the gunny had never felt so good about a relationship before. Besides, even though Erin realized Dulce would never be a 'one-woman-woman,' Mathias could live with that; she knew Dulceata truly loved her because not once had she ever asked Mathias for any cubits.

Now, her mind back in the here and now, Mathias entered Master Sergeant Hadrian's office where monitors were mounted on a wall so Hadrian could keep tabs on the prisoners in their particular cells. Standing next to a seated Hadrian was the Thirteenth Tribe's female officer, Lt. Commander Stenger.

The Fleet officer turned to Mathias and said, "Hello, Gunny."

"Sir!" Erin snapped crisply.

When Mathias had used the masculine honorific toward the woman as was Colonial military custom, it appeared as if she'd caught the other woman a bit off guard. That surprised the gunny. Although she hadn't spent much time with the Earth officers, she recognized stone-cold killers when she saw them. True, Jackson was definitely friendlier than Stenger. But the way they both handled the sidearms they'd borrowed from Hadrian's armory—like the weapons were old friends—had left no doubts about their skills in Mathias' mind.

"Gunny," Stenger said, apparently shaking off Erin's unintentional gaffe, "The Six we have in cell 6 Beta was tortured, beaten severely and gang raped continuously by many of the, and I use the term loosely, 'men' on the Pegasus during her incarceration. Unfortunately, some of the men who sexually assaulted her were Marines. We need her to be coherent when we attempt to interrogate her to gather intelligence so we want to avoid having any male Marines enter her cell unless it's absolutely necessary. We want her to feel safe and secure from abuse of any kind. That's why I'd like you to be the person who brings her meals to her and offers her sanctuary from the savagery she experienced on that damn ship. I'd like you to start now by bringing this tray," the Earth woman indicated the one on Hadrian's desk, "to her."

"Yes, Commander," Mathias said, hoping that was the proper response.

Apparently it was because Stenger offered her a tiny smile and said, "Thank you, Gunny. Carry on."

She lifted the tray from Hadrian's desk and soon approached door to the Cylon's cell. One of the Marines standing guard outside unlocked the door and opened it, allowing Mathias entry. She stepped over the threshold and said in a neutral tone of voice, "I'm Gunnery Sergeant Mathias. I've brought you your meal."

The woman on the cot had her head turned toward the corner of the cell facing away from the door. Moments passed before the woman finally seemed to notice Mathias' presence and turned to face the gunny. Then, when Erin recognized the beautiful face framed by dirty blonde hair, she almost dropped the tray onto the deck. Somehow, Mathias forced herself to maintain her composure long enough to place the tray on the sole table before warily backing out of the cell all the while keeping her eyes locked on the disturbingly quiet woman pressed close to the wall beside her cot.

After the guard had locked the door, she rushed out of the common area back into Hadrian's office. "Commander Stenger!"

The Fleet officer whirled and asked, "What is it, Gunny?"

"C-commander," Erin stammered, "there's another Cylon just like the one you have in the brig. She's aboard the Galactica, Commander!"

"Gunny, this 'other' Cylon...how come no one has identified her by using the image that was taken of the one who'd made the false accusations against Dr. Baltar?"

"Commander, I've never seen the image you're describing. The only images we had were of the Doral and the Leoben models the Admiral had issued to the the entire fleet when he was a commander."

"Gunny," Hadrian asked, "is the one you've seen exactly like the one in the cell?"

"Not exactly, Master Sergeant," she said, "but they're close enough to be identical twins! They have the same facial features but the one I…know…well, she's a brunette with blonde highlights."

"Where have you run across this other woman, Gunny?" Stenger asked.

"Commander…sir…" a flustered Mathias nearly winced when she'd inadvertently referred to the Fleet officer with the masculine honorific, "ma'am…I–"

Stenger, though, had lost her patience and boomed, "Damn it, Gunny! Spit it out!"

Erin drew a deep breath, held it for several beats then exhaled slowly. Now, her eyes fixed and focused on the Commander's no-nonsense face, she said, "She's a hooker who lives below decks. Sometimes, she surfaces on the main deck to use the chapel's alcove to engage in…relations with some of the Marines, Commander."

"Gunny," Hadrian asked. "Have you engaged in…relations with her, too?"

Mathias forced herself to swallow past the lump in her throat before she responded, "Yes, Master Sergeant!"

Both of the other women in the room simply stared at her while Mathias prayed for the deck to open beneath her feet and swallow her whole.

A few moments later, Stenger broke the uncomfortable silence. "Gunny…I know that it was difficult for you to come forward with this. But I'm glad you put your feelings aside to do the right thing. Now we need to take this woman into custody for her own protection because if anyone who has an axe to grind about what the Cylons did to your people realize who she really is, they'll probably kill her on the spot. I'd like for you and another Marine to accompany me when we go to retrieve her. Although I want our approach to be low key, I want the three of us to carry sidearms. Mine will be concealed while I want you and the other Marine to carry your weapons in holsters on your hips. I want her cooperation; however, if she decides to play rough, let me try to take her down before you draw on her. Based on Captain Jackson's encounter with her 'twin' in the cell, I should be able to take her but if she looks like she might get the best of me…well, do what you have to do. Do you read me, Gunny?"

"Aye, aye, Commander," Mathias said lowly.

"Carry on then, Gunny."

As a heartbroken Erin Mathias turned to leave and prepare for their fateful encounter with her Cylon lover, she hoped no one had seen the single tear that had fallen from the corner of her left eye.

#

Author's note: Yes, as some of you have suspected, Dulceata is 'Tough Six' from the BSG movie: The Plan.