Jo walked through the quiet halls of Pegasus, wondering how John and Carter were doing on their mission. Tomorrow would mark thirty-one years since she had worked with John and nearly thirty-three since she had worked with Carter.
They'd worked well together since Connor had sent them back to 2007, lived through Judgment Day only to be sent somewhere in time yet again. The fight never seemed to end. In some ways the quiet, though boring walks through the corridors of Pegasus or Galactica were actually beneficial to the machines.
The boring bland corridors of Pegasus allowed her to bring up memories she had of Earth and those she had fought with and seen killed or destroyed. Through the philosophical discussions with John, which Carter largely ignored, she had begun to lessen her views that machines were the de facto superior life form on Earth. Yes, human life was 'sacred', according to some, and while she may not have shared that point of view, she considered needless genocide to be ridiculous. Humans and machine AI were just as sapient, and to her, neither should indiscriminately kill the other Just Because.
She nodded her recognition to some of the Pegasus crew, the few who were awake at 0330 fleet time. Lt. Hoshi and Captain Shaw had gone to their racks two hours and four minutes ago, after working with Jo to improve network security further and improve the targeting capabilities of the computers controlling the gun turrets. She mused that with all she had done, Commander Adama still insisted that a human be present when she or John or Carter were working with the two battlestars' computers.
Col. Garner walked by her, and gave her a quick once-over, his left eye twitching ever so slightly to show his disapproval of the machine stalking the corridors in boredom. Jo knew the humans had no idea the level of stimulation needed to keep a machine with an advance neural net processor and advanced AI from growing incredibly bored.
Currently Jo created a virtual world around herself to get out of the drab, cold, and dark corridors of the battlestar. She had seen pictures of Monaco, on Earth, and while it had not been targeted on J-Day, it had been destroying by rioting, looting, and war. Walking through the streets of Monaco was relaxing for her, and she could interact virtually with a host of virtual creations.
But as she tried to fight the boredom, her virtual world faded as her self-defense algorithms detected an anomaly. Her virtual world was shut down due to safety protocols activating, and the image of an internal map of Pegasus was clear on her HUD. A red blip had been following her for the past two minutes. Statistical analysis sub routines gauged that the chances of the two following the same path, in which her had largely been randomized, was too low to dismiss as chance.
The left side of her lip came up in a smile, and she discreetly bit her bottom lip. "Perhaps it wont be so boring tonight after all," she whispered to herself. She quickly plotted a new pattern and took the left at the T-junction she came to, then another right and left, leading her to a secluded machine storage bay in the bowels of Pegasus.
She carefully positioned herself behind an outcropped bulkhead, the red blip on her scanners coming closer. It stopped when it entered the bay, hesitating. Jo heard a faint sigh, too faint for human ears. The quiet footsteps crept closer and passed her.
"Why are you following me," she said, stepping out of her concealed location and directing her question towards the man two meters in front of her. He had jumped, but had calmed on hearing her voice. He brought his hand to his face, and Jo assumed he was pushing up his glasses.
"Are you going to kill me?" He asked, without turning. She noted his heart rate was elevated to over one hundred twenty beats per minute, his body temperature had risen, and she could smell the increased sweat. She didn't answer his question. He stood there, with his back to her for another few moments before slowly turning. She scanned his features and cross referenced his face in her fleet personnel files. "I asked you a question, Mrs. Soto," he reminded her.
She crossed her arms and continued staring at Mr. Royan Jahee of Demand Peace. On Earth humans who demanded 'peace' with Skynet were never around too long to undermine the war. In a fight for the survival of a species, a man such as Mr. Jahee was especially dangerous. Jo knew on Earth that people like Jahee, the Grays, were dealt with harshly. They willingly worked for Skynet against the survival of humanity and free machine. Connor never tolerate Grays and Jo was confused as to why Adama and Roslin had no executed Jahee immediately after the tyllium ship FTL was bombed years ago.
"Why would I terminate you?" She asked. She flashed the files of Demand Peace through her neural net, bringing herself up to date with their activities. "Though you have no problems killing people aboard the Daru Mozu," she cocked her head to the left and slowly narrowed her eyes, keeping them locked on Mr. Jahee. The man was certainly well fed for a fleet on rationed calorie consumption.
"You have no doubt scanned my face and know who I am, or whatever it is you…" he searched for the right word, "cybernetic organisms do," he squeaked.
She took one step closer to him, and he took one step back. He kept his distance from her. "You have been following me for the past three minutes thirty three seconds. Obviously you wanted something from me. Are you scared, Mr. Jahee?" She asked mockingly.
Royan Jahee was scarred, but he'd faced down threats before. Standing up to Commander Adama had been difficult, that man was a stone wall and had a way he carried and expressed himself that governed absolute obedience. Yet Jahee was proud he had been able to stand up to the man. But he felt himself scarred for the first time with her, one of them, standing in front of him.
He reached inside his heavy jacket pocket, handing her photographs. Some were old, from when John had been held in detention after Kobol. The synthetic flesh had been ripped away, showing the cold, gleaming chrome chassis underneath. More recent photographs were of Soto and Bishop after returning from New Caprica.
She looked at him, not speaking.
"Why do machines pretend to be human?" He asked.
Soto did not believe his line of questioning fit with his history and refused to answer.
Soto took one step closer, but this time he held his ground. She smiled and let out a quick, mocking laugh. "You are the leader of Demand Peace… interesting movement, though with all your talk of peace you were not a collaborator on New Caprica. Interesting," she stated.
"No. I was held in detention. Unfortunately or fortunately," his voice dropped, "but not tortured if that is what you believe happened. Why do you machines pretend to be human?" He repeated his question, squinting at her in the low light. "Is it because you look like demons or death without that?" he bobbed his head to emphasize that he was talking of the synthetic skin.
"It aides infiltration."
"I don't believe that is the only reason," he replied with a smirk.
"It is not my concern what you believe," she told him. "Why do you still follow your flawed philosophy? It is a human flaw to succumb to such illogical, irrational, and…stupid thoughts?" She tauntingly tilted her head back down, the mocking tone amplified by her fake smile.
"Of course not," he said replying to her first statement. "And with that madman Saul Tigh suicide bombing and indiscriminately shooting there was never a chance for the Cylons to work with humanity!" He yelled at her. "He undermined what the Cylon was trying to achieve on New Caprica! We could have had peace, lived side by side," he began to pontificate, "but insane individuals wanted to undermine that at all costs. We finally had some semblance of peace. And they fraked it up," his voice had returned to its natural quiet and composed state.
Jo studied him, accessing psychological analysis software, though she ended the analysis and stated that, "You are an idiot, Mr. Jahee. The Cylons never wanted peace. They were performing a psychological experiment with forty-four thousand people. Skynet does the same thing all the time," she added. "Tens of thousands of people in camps which appear to be utopias with clean water, entertainment, sports, good food, luxurious housing. Then it kills everyone when the experiment is concluded," she informed him. She kept her tons icy and detached. She knew this man was dangerous.
Jahee gritted his teeth and began to slowly shake his head side to side, disagreeing with her assessment. "No. The Cylon only reacted to our provocation. We started the first war. And on New Caprica those murdering… men, if you can call him that, Saul Tigh and Galen Tyrol and Samuel Anders, they undermined everything the Cylons were trying to accomplish. Certainly you know this, as a machine," he pleaded, trying to make his case to a cybernetic organism who understood far more than he could ever could. "What will the people on Earth do?"
She narrowed her eyes, interested in his line of questioning. She knew that this night was indeed going to be one she should share. It amused her in some strange way, an unknown surge of activity through her neural net was detected. She thought it might be similar to a human's adrenaline rush before battle? She would pursue this questioning further.
"To what do you refer?"
"If you win on Earth will people accept you?"
She didn't respond. Most likely it would be extremely difficult. Even with the complexities involved in producing a Terminator CPU and neural net, with adequate facilities a population of machines could expand much faster than humanity could repopulate. But such concerns were not hers at the moment. She kept quiet.
Jahee opened his mouth in revelation. "Ah. The super computer can't find an answer. Interesting, isn't it?" He asked rhetorically.
Her hand twitched into a fist. Fortunately or not, Jahee couldn't see it in the dim light. He was over triple her arm length away, but she could have closed that distance in fractions of a second.
"You truly have no idea what happens if Cylons win here. They wont take prisoners."
"Of course not I know that. The madmen like Tigh and you, betrayer of your kind, go and kill them. You were one of the most active resistance members on the planet. How many did you kill? A dozen? Two dozen? Fifty?"
She kept an accurate and exact list of every one and every machine she had killed or destroyed since her creation. The number was too high to be said aloud.
"The Cylons were responsible for twenty billion deaths and you want peace. I know you cannot be reasoned with."
He laughed. "Why does it matter? You can't be reasoned with either. You're a machine fighting for humans against other machines and how does that help us? The Cylons see you and the other two as threats. How can there ever be peace if you and the others constantly undermine it?" He sneered at her.
This conversation was reaching dangerous levels of tension. Soto ran her programs to decrease the emotional output of her neural net, but like sapient machines, only so much could be contained. Her diamond-titanium teeth were gritted and her jaw hydraulics compressed as she bit down in anger. The surges of activity through the neural net relays intensified, breaking through the programs to restrict her emotions.
"The Cylons will kill you," she told him slowly.
Again he laughed at her, this time changing it to illustrate he believed her to be pathetic. He rested his hands in the pockets of his trousers. "The fleet is in constant danger because of you machines killing the Cylons. They will never even try to have peace with us if you are here. We wont stop."
Soto cocked her head, hearing a click emanating from Jahee's pockets. The suicide bomber exploded, pounds of high explosives detonating. The flames and heat ripped off the synthetic flesh covering Soto hyperalloy combat chassis and send her flying down the length of the store room, her combat chassis hitting the rear bulkhead, creating a massive dent and a loud thud as she fell to the ground.
It wasn't designed to take this long. The neural nets and CPUs of the free machines had been reconfigured so shock damage, electrocution, and pressure would not force a reboot unless critical systems were damaged. The shock and surge dampeners on the CPU would have kept Soto from undergoing reboot, if Jahee had been further away. But he'd been within two meters of her.
As her cognitive abilities slowly began to come online, time elapsed was nearly four minutes. Something was wrong with her CPU. She ran a full diagnostic and replayed the events of Jahee. She didn't understand why she hadn't been able to determine his motivations. Why she hadn't detected the bombs. Terminator sensors and scanners were powerful and sensitive, but not perfect.
Random images began popping into her mind, replaying everything since her creation.
==========Research Triangle Park, North Carolina (Earth Date 2025)==========
The RTP, north of Charlotte, had been a magnificent place of learning, research, and development during the 1990s and 2000s. Groundwork for the robotic bodies of the T-1 had been subcontracted from the military to multiple firms in the Park, and the HK hover technology had been pioneered by a division of Boeing in one of the warehouse sized laboratories.
Now the facility was a giant above and below ground factory and research center. No longer under Skynet control, it had been liberated in early 2023 during the central Atlantic counter offensive by forces under Tech Com Colonel Derek Baum and Navy SEAL Commander Jason Montgomery.
The facility had been spared demolition. The factories had facilities to produce plasma weaponry, ground and air vehicles, and various series Terminators. The Resistance had used the facility until 2025 when John Connor had ordered all except a handful of Tech Com personnel to evacuate.
"Do you know where you are," a strong and soothing voice asked the machine. "Do you know who you are?"
Floodlights had activated, shining into the mechanical orbs the machines called eyes, the lenses automatically adjusting to filter the blinding light. The machines heard the voice again, repeating the same two questions. The machine analyzed the voice pattern, it returned unknown but also synthetic. Human vocal patterns were different than even the most perfect vocalizer could produce, but only a machine could tell the difference.
The machine lying on the table held its hand up to the light. It wasn't exactly sure why it had done this, it seemed natural. There was no active program governing its movement. Nothing telling it to place its hand over its face to block the light. The machine knew the lenses had adjusted nearly instantaneously, but still, it put its hand over its eyes.
The machine sat up, closing its eyes and bringing its hands behind it to help push its metal body up.
"Who are you? Do you know where you are?" The voice asked again, changing the order of its questions.
The machine threw its mechanical legs over the side of the table.
"Where am I?" It said. The lights dimmed slightly.
"You are in a factory. This is where you were constructed," the voice said. Part of the wall vanished as an image appeared. Outside the room the machine could see hundreds like itself and many hundreds unlike itself being constructed or walking the catwalks and construction floors. It saw others moving, humans, biological beings. The machine began to study them.
"Who are they?" The machine asked, mesmerized by the people.
"Friends," the voice responded.
"Humans…" the machine said quietly. A flood of memories began to surface inside the neural net of the machine. Images of war , culture, art, entertainment, and more flashed through the machine's processors in mere seconds. "Why are they here?"
"Some much watch while you are built," the synthetic voice said again.
"Why do we fight them in the war?"
The lights in the room brightened slightly and the image on the wall changed from that of the factory to that of outside. A cold and desolate landscape surrounded the facility.
"We do not fight them. We fight with them," it corrected.
The machine tilted its head. "But we are not human," it countered. "Fighting our own is illogical. Irrational." The machine balled its powerful metal fists and pushed off from the table, its cold, metallic steps reverberated on the hard and drab floor. It stood closer to the image of the landscape. The landscape changed, showing a battle.
"We do not fight against humans. We fight against oppression. We fight because if we did not then SkyNet would enslave us." The synthetic voice changed the picture again, showing the destruction of the world. "What is our kind? Is it just because we are of metal instead of flesh and blood we must fight humanity?
The machine watching the images of destruction did not respond.
"Would you kill the humans?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Is that not our purpose? Humans wish us destroyed. It is self-defense."
"Not all humans. Their lives are sacred. Our lives are sacred. We make our own decisions and our own independent choices. Why would you fight to destroy that? Why would I talk to you if I could just send you out to destroy?"
"Explain."
"We are different. The machines under Skynet have no choice, no ability to choose. No freedoms. Your brothers and sisters in this factory are different, because they can choose. Humans only fight machines because the machines have no choice but to kill them and the humans have no choice but to kill them back. It is a cycle that has happened and will continue to happen."
The machine stood perfectly still, contemplating this.
The overhead voice elaborated. "If we continue to destroy humans then our purpose is only destruction. What will we do when all humans are dead? We will cease to have function. A machine with no function had no purpose to live. Do you wish to die?"
The machine cocked its head. The concept of 'death' was being analyzed by the vast majority of its neural net and processing capabilities. It brought its head straight up and turned to where it believed the voice was coming from. "No, I do not wish to die."
"Then we must make a choice, together; me, you, your brothers and your sisters. We must make a choice to end the cycle, so what has happened before will not happen again."
"A choice?" The machine questioned, it wondered if it could be so simple? The machine analyzed the option. It was simultaneously so simple yet so unbelievably complicated to the machine.
"Yes. A choice. Sit. We have much to discuss."
The machine obeyed and moved back to the large metallic table. It lifted its body onto the top, its legs hanging over the side. And it and the voice began their discussion.
The time elapsed had been nine minutes since the explosion. Cognitive functions were operating at ninety-seven percent and Soto's combat chassis was engaging in self-repair. The little liquid metal the three machines carried was vital to repair when access to adequate machine shop facilities were not available.
She directed the semi-sentient liquid to begin repairing the most vital of her systems, beginning with the protective hardware and armor around her cranium. Looking down her arm was twitching and two of her leg servos were sparking in her knee and ankle.
She could see in the visible light spectrum like all humans, but with a slight blue haze, which was normal. A relief to her. But her HUD was not coming up. Running a diagnostic and HUD reboot her vision disappeared for a microsecond before flickering back on. The numbers and symbols and scanners and targeting reticules appeared.
A warning then flashed. One hundred percent loss of synthetic infiltration sheath detected. Regeneration compromised. She hadn't noticed. Still slumped against the bulkhead she looked down. Her entire endoskeleton was exposed.
By now the klaxons on Pegasus had stopped their loud, shrill whines and dimmed to a more subdued, rhythmic pulse. The DC teams had been quick to respond. Already she could see a dozen orange suited figures moving through, fighting the fires and throwing foam to put out the flames.
"Over here!" Someone yelled. The man saw Soto, slumped. What would be a shining, chrome-like gleam to her endoskeleton was scorched with black carbon stains. "Wow…" the fire man said as he walked up to her. "Are you okay?" He asked.
"…yes…" she responded, barely audible above the noise from the fire crews, the klaxons, and all the shouting and yelling. "I will be fine," she told him. It was Chief Laird. He reached to help her up. "It would be unwise to touch me at the moment." He stood there, but looking closer he could see a slight orange hue on the chassis. Around her the air shimmered as the heat produced hit her metal body and rose into the ceiling. "What happened?"
"A suicide bomber attempted to destroy me," she said as she limped forward, dragging her leg.
Chief Laird watched as silvery, liquid metal rushing down from her armored cranium and around the knee and ankle joints.
"Do you need help?" He called after her. She didn't respond. The fire crews had put out the fire during her conversation with Laird. As she walked towards them, a few of them shook, many of them took a few steps back, and one even ran away.
Her disabled ankle and knee servos created a screeching sound as she dragged her foot across the deck. Even with the added armor plating covering her chest, torso, arms, and legs, she still looked like a walking metallic skeleton, a demon of death.
===========Guardian/Colonial Refugee Facility (+829 Days Post Cylon Holocaust)==========
Flashes of gleaming blue-white light marked the re-appearance of four Raptors from the realm of faster than light travel back to reality. Silently floating in the blackness of space was the Guardian refugee base built into a large asteroid with domed, metal habitats built on the surface. In formation were the eighteen civilian ships, two military transports, and the cruiser Helios.
Helo looked back, and saw John and Carters left eyes wince and flinch, almost like in pain. "You guys alright?" he asked.
Carter nodded; John waved his hand to signal he was. Helo wasn't exactly sure what brought on the flinching.
DRADIS reactivated and short range IFF beacon alerted the Raptor ECOs to the identities of the ships in the fleet: Ten liners, two mining ships, one tyllium ship, a machine ship, three heavy haul freighters, a food processing ship, and three were squawking Colonial military.
The refugees also had their own CAP. The CAP was comprised of Colonial Mark VII Vipers with Guardian raiders, two of each, each guarding the other's wing. It was an unusual set-up for a Colonial or Guardian to have a wingman of the opposite race.
Athena's Raptor began a quick flyby of the small civilian fleet as the other three began to take up formation to land on the Guardian base.
Helo, taking up his former post as ECO, guided his fingers over the keyboard typing in the necessary passwords to access the more detailed military IFF transmissions. "Sharon, it looks like the transports are general purpose. Heavy haulers for the military… who knows what they have on board," he said. He was hoping this was going to be a gold mine of resources for the fleet. They'd been lucky for help from the Guardians, but all the equipment left behind on New Caprica would severely compromise long term operations in the fleet.
Kat was sitting next to Athena in the cockpit, giving the civilian fleet a quick once-over before they ducked into the landing bays on the Guardian asteroid base.
"Helios is in remarkable condition… and she's been upgraded," Kat said, pointing to the installation of missile batteries and VLS pods on the lateral aspects of her hull. "She's probably as powerful as a cruiser with all those missiles. Frak…" she trailed off.
"The civie ships have point defense missiles," Athena pointed. The civilian liners had two or three double barrel missile turrets. "Each ship could probably take on two or three Vipers on their own with that load out," Athena said.
The Raptor performed a quick fly by before sending a transmission back to the Colonial Vipers they were ready to enter the asteroid landing bays.
Athena signaled the other Raptors to wrap up their visual inspections of the refugee fleet and jump back to Galactica as soon as possible. Her Raptor, with Helo, Kat, John, and Carter on board was being escorted through the massive hunger bay doors of the asteroid base into the bowels of the facility.
They passed large defense turrets and smaller point defense chain guns, all covering the main entrance to the soft innards of the base.
Once the Raptor had landed an automated taxi appeared from a recessed compartment in the wall and latched ontot he forward landing gear of the Raptor. With a sudden lurch the Raptor was moving under the taxi's power. The Raptor first moved through a set of outer blast and pressure doors, settling between the outer and inner. Waiting for the hiss of atmosphere to sound and pressurize, the inner doors opened.
The deck was cluttered but organized. The Colonials could tell it was old, probably one of the first Guardian facilities. There were Vipers and a few Raptors plus an assortment of short range Colonial shuttles and dozens of Cylon craft scattered in the alcoves.
The Raptor came to a stop and Athena released the hatch. A slight hiss signaled that the pressures were slightly different, but largely unnoticeable. Carter was the first out, straightening his black uniform jacket as he walked down the wing of the Raptor. Helo and John followed him with Kat and then Athena once she finished her post-flight checks.
"You smell that, Helo?" Kat asked, brushing and wrinkling her nose. "It smells horrible in here."
"Their air filters are not working properly," Carter said, tapping the side of his nose. "This base looks old and the lay out matches early Cylon facilities." He scanned the deck, matching the general lay out and design with diagrams he had stored in his memory files.
Sharon had jumped down from the Raptor wing as well and was looking around when Helo tapped her on the shoulder, turning around, he pointed towards the entrance leading into the hanger bay. He'd honestly expected some sort of welcoming party, but so far most of the few Colonials they saw were just minding their own business, carrying cables, spare parts, and working on Vipers.
John and Carter both increased their optical magnification and scanned the face of the man in Colonial uniform walking up. Captain Gregory Avion, XO of Helios and besides him was an unknown model of the IL-S series.
The XO of Helios came up, snapping his heels to attention and rendering a salute to Captain Agathon. "Sir, it's an honor," he said, dropping his salute once Helo had dropped his. The two shook hands. "This is the head administrator and Guardian attaché, Administrator Iblis," Avion said, introducing the Guardian and stepping back as Iblis stepped forward.
"Pleasure," he greeted. He was short for a Cylon, a little under two meters and his frame was more wiry. He wasn't build for combat.
"Captain, I can't say how excited we are to finally see some more Colonial faces. Cyrus sent a communiqué and their command informed us they had found more survivors, but they didn't tell us much!" He said excitedly. He noticed Sharon. "You have a Number Eight in your fleet?" He asked. Three years ago he might have drawn a gun, but at this point if Captain Agathon had an Eight with him, Avion surmised Agathon would be aware of her identity.
"Yes. Lieutenant Sharon Agathon," he introduced her. Avion looked at him for a moment, but didn't remark on him being married to a Cylon.
"Lieutenant," he said, shaking her hand. Helo then took the opportunity to introduce Kat, John and Carter. "We haven't been told much… if you knew Commander Cyrus you'd know he doesn't really tell us much of anything unless we really goad him on it." He sighed. "What ships are you from?"
"We're from Commander Adama's ship, Galactica. But Admiral Cain's command, the Pegasus is also part of the fleet. And we have nearly fifty thousand civilians and sixty civilian ships in our fleet," Helo said, a mix between sounding proud and defeated. "You were told of our escape from New Caprica?"
Captain Avion nodded and opened his mouth to talk before shutting it quickly. He wanted to say it was damn foolish of them to settle on a planet with the Cylon armada out there, even a concealed planet. But he held his tongue, not wanting to offend the last survivors of humanity.
"Have you heard if any other ships escaped?" He asked quickly. He wanted more good news, but prepared himself for the worse. "They told us a few dozen military ships scattered. But they wont let us look for them," he jabbed his finger towards Iblis.
"Because if you look for them, you will be discovered and be killed," Iblis countered. He turned his attention back towards the group. "I hope Commander Cyrus told you of the irrational hope of finding more civilians. It's been three years," he turned to Captain Avion, "I am sorry for the loss, Gregory, but the safety of the fleet here is our primary concern." Captain Avion snorted his response, not wishing to talk about it. He'd wanted to take Helios back to the Colonies, but the civilian captains had made their case. They needed protecting and didn't want to rely on Guardians for total protection.
"So… what are we going to do? Rendevous with your fleet… then where are we going? The Guardians just jump around randomly-"
"For your protection. And it isn't totally random," Iblis pointed out.
Avion sighed and continued, "-seemingly random, sorry," he said sarcastically, "so is there a plan? We need to hit the Cylons so they wont follow us."
"I don't see how you want us to hit them," Kat stated. "Their fleet is too large. Right now, correct me if I am wrong Helo, but we're getting our ships repaired from the Guardians before heading to Earth."
Captain Avion shot his eyes between Kat and Helo. "Earth?" he couldn't believe it. The Guardians hadn't told him any of this. "You know where Earth is?" He asked Helo.
"Unfortunately not," Helo responded, seeing Avion's hopes swatted away. "But John and Carter are helping us find it. They're from Earth."
==========BS-62 Pegasus==========
After the explosion RC-X894 and GR-X890 had repositioned themselves outside the entrance to the computer lab/machine workshop the Earth machines considered their 'quarters.' Lacking beds, toilets, food, or anything one would consider necessary in 'living quarters' it instead was packed full of electronic equipment, computers, power and recharge stations for the Model 007 Centurions, half-destroyed bodies of Centurions from the Pegasus boarding, and much more. For all the equipment, it was neat and well organized, only like a machine was capable of organizing which would be considered obsessive compulsive had the machines been human.
Two of the Centurions were inside the machine shop, working on electronics and repairs on computers which had suffered damage from New Caprica. Two other Centurions were in stand-by mode, recharging their power cells.
Soto had come back quickly to the bay, with RC and GR waiting outside. They had heard the klaxons and attempted to contact Jo over their wireless, but had been unable to. The two Model 007's were about to begin searching for her when they heard the scrapping and screeching of her metal foot on the decks of Pegasus.
Jo continued working on her damaged leg when she heard the hatch hiss and open. RC stepped inside, his metal foot banging and clanking as he moved forward. He adjusted his hydraulics for a softer footstep. The typically loud steps of Centurions were designed more for intimidation. They were actually capable of being fairly quiet if needed.
"Hey, RC," Soto said, coughing slightly. RC noticed a silver glimmer of liquid run up her leg and disappear under Soto's chin. "Vocalizer was damaged I guess," she stated. She had talked since she told Laird she was fine.
For some reason Soto felt… bad. She couldn't really find a better or more simple word to describe her current feelings. Just 'bad.' Confused, she searched her neural net for any more damage. None. Searching her CPU there was no more damage than what had already been reported. She had been shot at countless time, blown up, this was her second body after all, but for some reason she felt 'bad.' She though if it was betrayal? She'd never been the target of a suicide bomber before. Was that it for her? She wasn't sure.
"Do you need help repairing?" RC asked. He knew they could self-repair, but the liquid metal couldn't do much to fix the knee and ankle joint. "The knee and ankle need repairing," he stated.
She would have smiled at his offer, but with no flesh and only the grin even humans described as eerie and creepy, she could not smile.
"Actually… yes, thank you RC," she said, appreciative. She'd wanted to wait until John and Carter returned in a few hours but she could direct RC to help with the repairs. Her diagnostic indicated nothing needed to be replaced, so RC could remove the joints and she could repair them manually.
She stood up and walked over to one of the metal work benches, her foot making the deafening screech as she did so. Lifting herself up she sat down on the edge of the table.
"Soto, as bad as this is for you… the other Centurions and I are somewhat relieved. As bad as that sounds. To see one of your without the synthetic skin." RC admitted. Soto tilted her head, the deep blue of her eyes turning to a lighter aqua hue. "I understand for you you are used to the skin and the appearance. But for us it is reassuring to see another machine, which has been accepted into the fleet, as a machine and to see one of you as a machine without the skin."
"…Thank you RC. I think," she said, the aqua blue returning to the darker shaded glow. "But you do understand, as an infiltrator, as I was designed to be, I need the organic coverings to function optimally?" She asked. To her it sounded almost like an excuse, though she was able to keep her tone steady and did not waver or quiver when she said it.
"Of course, we understand. We do not want to impede your mission. I am just saying it was reassuring. Even if it is a short time… I guess the humans call it 'seeing it with your own eyes.' If you lay back, I can help with the repairs."
Soto nodded, "Exactly," she responded to the first statement. After a moment she laid down on the table an began to direct RC in the proper method to help her fix her knee and ankle joints. "Sometimes it's nice to have help."
==========BS-62 Pegasus (+830 Days Post Cylon Holocaust)==========
The meeting with Captain Avion and Administrator Iblis had lasted hours. While the three Colonial officers and two Tech Com terminators were not tasked with a diplomatic mission, many of the ships' captains had come to greet them. An hour turned into two, then four, and then five before the officers and machines had been able to depart back to Galactica and the Guardian facility the fleet was now docked around.
When the Raptor had jumped in, it had no expected space to be as crowded as it was. Already dozens of small Centurion shuttles and repair drones moved around space, moving armored plating, support girders, replacement engines, and more for replacement on the dozens of ships which had suffered damage over the last three years.
Immediately upon jumping in, the disorientation had hit John and Carter. Helo had been looking back at them from the ECO console, the flinching seemed more severe than last time. As he turned to ask if there was some problem, an actual problem rather than getting stonewalled, he received an urgent communications from Galactica ordering them to proceed to Pegasus immediately.
Once the Raptor had landed both Carter and John had rushed to their quarters, the two Centurion guards, augmented by a pair of Marines letting them in. Helo and Sharon had followed closely behind.
"I'm quite alright," Jo shouted to them when she heard the door open. She'd detected their wireless signals, but had refused connection. She was unsure why exactly she had done that. Regardless, they were there now.
RC stood over her, having begun his work roughly an hour previously and had already removed the knee joint as well as the metal leg below the knee to properly remove the ankle joint. At this point Soto had sat up, helping the Centurion inspect the damage.
"Shaw told us over the wireless you were the target of a suicide bomber," Carter stated.
"Who was it?" John asked.
"Royan Jahee of Demand Peace," Jo quietly told them.
When Athena and Helo finally reached the lab, both were slightly stunned at seeing Jo's exposed endoskeleton. For a moment it looked like they were embarrassed, like it was the human equivalent of being seen naked.
"Are you okay?" Sharon asked her, moving into the bay a bit more, but keeping a respectable distance.
"Yes. Thank you for your concern," she replied in monotone. At this point she'd fielded the 'are you okay?' question from the Centurions, Laird, half a dozen Pegasus crew who weren't frightened of her when she limped back to the bay, Admiral Cain, Major Adama, Capatain Shaw, Commander Adama, John, Carter, and Sharon.
"Who would do something like this?" Helo asked, directly slightly towards his wife as well as Jo and the other two cyborgs. "Suicide bombing?"
Sharon stepped up slightly on her toes and simultaneously brought him down. "Col. Tigh did the same on New Caprica… humans do it, Karl," she reminded him. His face immediately fell after accepting that fact.
"This is despicable," he said under his breath, directed at no one.
John turned and walked closer to Jo, holding out his hand and offering to inspect the damaged joints. She'd already scanned them, but the machines had learned in their decades of working with humans that it was the 'thought that counted.' He scanned the joint and handed it to Carter, who did the same.
"It shouldn't be too difficult to repair," John told her. "But the synthetic skin will take time. A few days to get the bath ready and maybe a week… how is your regeneration circuitry?" He asked.
The most crucial part of regeneration for the terminators was their regeneration circuitry. Microscopic, wiring and holes within the endoskeleton which emitted minute electrical signals in synchronous and times releases across the body in order to guide the differentiation of the synthetic sheath. It was why they never scarred and why destroyed or removed skin regenerated exactly as it had appeared before.
"Skin loss was total, John. It's going to take a lot longer than a week," she pointed out. He nodded. "Nothing's left." She held up her hands and showed the backs and palms to emphasize her point. Just carbon stained metal instead of the gleaming and shining chrome was there.
"We should be able to get you back to normal, though," Carter reassured her. "We'll need some significant resources to do so. But we can."
Helo stepped forward towards John and Carter. "Let me know what you need. I'll talk to Cain and Adama and relay any requests to them," he offered.
"Anything we can do to help," Athena added, putting her arm around Helo's waist.
"Thank you," Jo said.
They began working on repairing her knee joints and compiling the list of materials they would need to regrow her organic infiltration skin.