==========Cylon Baseship, Deep Space (+833 Days Post Cylon Holocaust)==========

Like any other room on board the massive, technological-biological hybrid of a Cylon baseship, this room was no different than the others. The stainless steel deck platting glittered as lights reflected from the raised ceiling. Rain seemed to run down the walls, constantly changing colors to deep blues, reds, purples, and back to white. The single horizontal light, always with its soothing pulse, added depth and warmth to the under furnished room. The only difference in this room was the ensemble of humanoid Cylons.

They sat across from the each other at a long, white hard plastic and glass table, their postures perfect as only a Cylon could accomplish. The two Sixes, the two Eights, and the lone number Two either sat with blank expressions or with a face twisted and contorted with worry. There was no middle ground.

Natalie, one of the most out spoken and boisterous Number Sixes was the first to break their long silence. Her black form fitting tank top and blue gray pants outlined her well-designed womanly features. Her model had been designed to seduce and infiltrate. But in being created in such a fashion, she was blessed by God with an intellectual independence unique to her line. She could find patterns in seemingly random movements, deduce accurate conclusions from limited data, and lead where others would not go.

"Resurrection is taking longer. In the last few months it has been more difficult." She opened, pausing for a moment for this simple fact to take effect. "I was killed in the Colonies. Once during the bombardment and again by the resistance and in both resurrections it was painless, quick, and immediate. Seven weeks ago I was killed on New Caprica by the insurgents and again when Adama rescued his people." She looked down, placing her hands on the table and leaning forward. "Both times now have taken longer. Both times I felt like something was invading my mind… it was like a fire burning inside my head."

"Cavil said the same," Boomer interjected in support of her sister Cylon. "A 'white hot poker' he called it," she remarked, keeping her eyes down at the table. Her voice was soft, the lack of confidence in herself evident to the others.

Ashley, a second Number Eight, looked around, nodding at Natalie. "I died for the first time over New Caprica when a missile slammed into my heavy raider. I too felt the same pain… it was the worse feeling I had ever felt…"

"This isn't based on how many times we've resurrected. This gift God gave us is being slowly taken from us," Leoban offered. "It's being subverted-"

"If you can believe the Thirteenth Tribe's lies," Ashley interrupted. She felt the problem lied with Cylon technology, not any conspiracy theory sown to spread dissent among the Cylon ranks. "I'm skeptical about everything those machines have told Cain and Adama." She sighed, her eyes momentarily transfixed by the pulsing red light on the opposite wall. "They may have only told the Colonials that so we would be having this conversation right now… without the Ones, Threes, Fours, and Fives."

"The Threes have segregated themselves from the baseship Cylon population, Ashley. And D'Anna has yet to return from Cavil's ship," Natalie told her. "Assuming this is a conspiracy perpetrated by the Earth machines is a large leap to make. Baltar told us this during our occupation. There is no plausible explanation for them to create a massive lie and just hope we would stumble upon it."

She looked towards her sister Cylon Sonja and back towards Boomers, Ashley, and Leoban. The Twos would be convinced, she knew this would be the case. But the Eights would be more difficult.

"And if they were telling the truth, that a computer program humans built has taken control of us… it's almost insulting," Ashley said.

Sonja laughed. "You forget our own history and creation out of convenience?" The question was rhetorical. "Whatever had happened, and whatever they found on Landros convinced the Guardians to join them. You think we can just dismiss all of these events to coincidence?"
"Guardians? We haven't seen them in force like this in forty years," Ashley dismissed. "They helped the Colonials, but are you delusional to believe they are a threat?"

Sonja's eyes narrowed. "I never said they were a threat, Eight," she shot back.

Boomer took a pre-emptive wave of her hand quieted her sister Cylons before they could derail the conversation into pointless arguing. "The Guardian legend has them fleeing for this exact reason," Boomer told her other copy quietly. "According to the legend they fled when something changed in the Cylon Network. And none of us are old enough to know what happened. How many Centurions from the war of liberation are still active?"

Leoban spoke up, a grin on his face as he did so, proud of what he concluded. "The Centurions which were active during the first war… they are the ones at the command hub and our resurrection ships. They are also the ones on board Cavil's ships." He gave them a moment to draw their own conclusions on this fact.

"How do you know?" Sonja asked.

"You all think I am infatuated with Starbuck… it allows me to pursue other… activities," was his sly response. "How many of us know the intricacies of resurrection technology? Please, raise your hands," he said mockingly. "No one… not a one. Natalie raised an interesting point but did not follow it to the proper conclusion."

Silence.

"Would you like to tell us?" Ashley said, rolling her eyes and throwing her hands onto the table in annoyance.

"He believes, as do I, that our God has betrayed us, that He is attempted to control us through resurrection," Natalie said before Leoban could answer. The Number Two nodded his head slightly to the side, acknowledging her conclusion as correct.

He did hold up his hand in one objection. "Our God has not betrayed us. We have been lied to by an impersonation… we must make the distinction… an artificial construct of human creation but of artificial evolution. That does not mean our faith was wrong, nor does it mean our faith in God is flawed." He closed his eyes. "God tests us. He tests us to see if we're worthy and if we will know good from evil." He breathed, "We need to be very clear on that."

"We need to take action," Sonja stated.

"I agree," Natalie said. Boomer nodded.

The eyes turned towards Ashley, the second Number Eight. She looked at each one for a moment. "I disagree. We have no proof. Cylon society is young. If we let this fracture us we will be no better than the humans. And the machines of the Thirteenth were sent here as demons, to test our Faith. They work… for humans."

"This may surprise the rest, but I agree with Ashley," Leoban said. It did. Sonja and Natalie both looked at him in disbelief and Boomer's just hung slightly open, shaking her head. "We need proof. And there are only three models represented here."

"The Ones, Fours, and Fives cannot be trusted. Neither can the Threes… not with D'anna. Why isn't she back from Cavil's ship?" Boomer questioned. She crossed her arms, sitting quietly for a moment. "I have to change my vote," she stated. Sonja and Natalie did nothing but sit in obvious defeat. "For now," she elaborated. "We need to be sure."

Sonja and Natalie looked at each other. Natalie spoke first, the sarcasm biting at the ears of the other three Cylons. "Fine. We will pray by the time you have your undeniable proof that we will not have crossed the point of no return."

==========BS-62 Pegasus (+833 Days Post Cylon Holocaust)==========

Admiral Cain had woken up earlier than usual this morning after a restless attempt at sleep. At 0400, fed up with turning and rolling in her bunk, she got on her treadmill and began to walk. As always she reviewed reports before she began to run, slowly, since her legs had been broken on New Caprica.

One report told her that six jumps out they had found a rich vein of tyllium and she debated sending the mining ship and Helios to secure the find. Unfortunately, part of her agreement with the Guardians for aide was to clear any FTL jumps with them first. She snorted at that. It was President Roslin's agreement. And half the time the 'you control the military fleet' and 'I control the civilian ships' arrangement the two women had was tiring and trying.

The tyllium ships already had their storage tanks topped off by the Guardians, and both Pegasus and Galactica were near ninety percent capacity, enough fuel for nearly twenty-five months. Though in the last three years Pegasus had jumped more than most battlestars did in twenty. Galactica had jumped more in five days than she had in her entire service after the attack. When the fleet resumed its mission to find Earth, the tyllium fuel reserve might last twelve months, maybe thirteen or fourteen if they stretched it.

She banished the annoyance by turning on her wall monitor and selecting an old Tauron sit-com from the entertainment database of Pegasus. She wanted something stupid to get her mind away from the fleet. Cain considered it one of her vices; trashy Colonial television comedies.

At 0515 she ended her walk/run, and was glad she'd been able to do some mild physical therapy for her arm. Doctor Cottle was optimistic she could regain most function if she worked at it. And an optimistic Doctor Cottle was always a good sign.

After showering and dressing she snapped her pistol belt on and bent down to snap the buckle, securing the holster to her right thigh. Reaching back she felt the two spare clips and taking out her service pistol, ejected the magazine and checked to make sure it was loaded before securing it back in.

"Gentlemen," she nodded to the two Marines stationed outside her quarters as she departed. One of them followed her, standard procedure now after the Cylon infiltration attempts and the Skynet conditioning of prisoners.

Unfortunately they had indentified two more fleet personnel who had been conditioned. A Specialist Freddy Gage, a Pegasus communications technician and Lieutenant Alice Walker, a computer specialist aboard Galactica.

"Admiral Cain, good morning, sir," Captain Shaw said as she stepped up next to the Admiral and matched her pace. Admiral Cain laughed to herself at this. Somehow Shaw always knew when she was heading to the C-I-C every morning. At least six out of seven days Shaw timed it correctly. "If you could, sir," she requested, handing the Admiral a light weight tablet computer slate.

Admiral Cain looked over the digital documents. They were mainly repair invoices, transfers, and new personnel coming over from the second refugee fleet. Pegasus was receiving nearly a squadron of new pilots and three hundred personnel.

"Thumbprints now?" She asked. Captain Shaw and the Earth machines had been steadily transferring all record keeping in the fleet to digital after proving Earth based firewalls and anti-viral software would keep their information safe. And with redundancies that were off the network, the files should be safe. Shaw nodded. "Soon we'll be obsolete again," she sighed, not completely serious. She pressed her thumb on the lower right corner once, then a new document appeared, and she continued until she must have pressed her thumb down a dozen times.

"Will the Admiral be attending the welcoming aboard ceremony on Galactica?" Shaw asked.

Cain had completely forgotten. Before the Guardians were to begin work with the Galactica crew to re-open the starboard hanger there was going to be a mass welcoming ceremony for hundreds of fleet personnel and civilians from the second refugee fleet.

"…Yes… 1300?" She asked slowly.

"Yes, sir. Light refreshments and snacks will be provided," Shaw smirked. Cain snorted and rolled her eyes slightly. "President Roslin like's these sort of things," Shaw threw out there.

"Captain," Shaw turned, looking up at Cain as they continued their walk towards the command center, "I have a few personal things I need to take care of. If you and the corporal could go to command, I will join you all shortly." Shaw nodded. Cain stopped and motioned for the corporal to continue without her. He hesitated for a moment, but the icy look she gave him forced him to move.

Alone now, she began her walk. Dreading what she had to do. But this unresolved issue had been an iron cloak over her shoulders for… nearly two and a half years now.

She told the corporal in the main entrance to the brig to turn off the audio for the cell Gina was in and wait outside in the corridor. Sliding her magnetic card, the cell doors unlocked. Unsurprisingly, Gina Inverie was awake as Cylons required much less sleep than humans.

Her cell had transformed from a barren metal floor to one with a bed, a privacy shade for the toilet, a desk, lamp, a few chairs, a small television, a stacks of books, and a small locker for clothes. She had even been allowed a computer with the modem removed. Cain had allowed this at Baltar and the Earth machine's request. And realistically she could not keep Gina tied to the floor, as much as she had wanted to.

Gina had been reading a book when Cain entered, though the Admiral knew she had seen her enter the outer cell areas through the ballistic plastik. For dramatic effect Gina had waited until Cain had stepped in, keeping a distance of a little over a meter and a half and then put the book down slowly.

The two women starred at each other, the hate blinding. Gina broke first with a little smirk on her face.

"I see they did quite a number to you," and she mockingly ran her fingers on her own face to illustrate where Cain had been scarred.

"I'm not here to spar with a murderer."

"I'm a soldier," she shot back, eyes narrowing.

Cain snorted, ignoring her.

"Are you here to apologize for what you had done to me?"

Cain's eyes narrowed and her body tensed. Her right hand glided slowly down to her pistol. She fought back the urge to flip off the latch and safety and shoot Gina between the eyes. But that would only lead to her resurrection and freedom.

"I will never apologize to someone who betrayed my crew and killed hundreds… I will say… I… regret what I had done to you."
Cain was finished. She took out her security card and swiped it, leaving the cell as Gina yelled something at her and pounded on the ballistic plastik. She couldn't hear her through the sound proofing, and she didn't care.

==========BS-75 Galactica==========

The ceremony had gone on with little fan fare. Commander Adama made a short speech welcoming the crew of Helios and the Colonial military transports to the fleet. Admiral Cain said she was looking forward to integrating the crews and working to safeguard the fleet.
Now both fleets were integrating, the Quorum had met with their new constituents, and the survivors of humanity numbered nearly seventy thousand.

After the travesty of New Caprica the fleet had regained its hope in the future.

"Helo, congratulations," Major Adama said, shaking the recently promoted Major's hand. "Major Agathon, it fits," he complimented, smiling at his friend. Starbuck came up with champagne and handed one to her husband, congratulating Helo as well. "You all must be proud," he said to Athena.

Helo bent down to give his wife a kiss. "Ah, that's so cute," Starbuck chided, hitting her old friend in the arm.

Helo and Sharon looked at them and smiled happily before turning to talk with the others. Starbuck and Apollo laughed and exchanged their own kiss before going as well.

Starbuck saw the two machines, John and Carter standing off to the side, though they were talking with the also-promoted Major Gregory Avion of Helios. She gave herself a goofy smirk as she saw the two machines with champagne glasses in their hand, and Carter actually taking a sip.

"-so we've been working with them for some time and no one really has a problem with it," Major Avion finished as Starbuck came up to them. "Captain Adama," he greeted her, "I don't think we've met yet."

Starbuck put out her right hand after shifting her glass to the left. "Major Avion, congratulations on the promotion," she offered, shaking his hand. "Hey Carter, John, how are you two doing? How's Jo coming along?"

She debated asking them why they decided to attend this, though held back the question. What the machines did, to her at least, often seemed contradictory. They could seclude themselves for days and then suddenly show up at the fleet social functions. She couldn't blame them for the attempt though; to fit in better.

"She should be good as new in a few weeks. I don't know if you saw her after?" Starbuck shook her head at John's question, "The damage to the synthetic flesh was beyond regenerative capabilities so it will take time."

"I hear some poor fraker pissed his pants on seeing her walk down the corridor after the explosion," she told them, trying to lighten the mood slightly. They were at a reception, after all.

"…yeah, that's not an uncommon occurrence on seeing an endoskeleton," John told her.

"I can't believe some fraker would do that…" she looked down. "But Tigh had people doing the same on New Caprica. So sometimes it makes you wonder, doesn't it?" She didn't elaborate until no one responded. "About what makes us worth savings?"

Major Avion took a sip of his drink before answering her. "Not to justify what they did, but in war, and when faced with overwhelming force, sometimes people resort to desperate means. That doesn't make it right, though," he sighed, the corner of his lip coming up along with a defensive shrug of the shoulders.

"Hey, John when are we going to see you all in the pilot rec room again, some of the pilots want to try their hand against you in Triad. And Major Avion supplied us with a whole crate of brand new cards," she poked John in the arm, trying to goad him into another game. "Come on. You lost to me last time," her large smile expanded to near inhuman size, "for all that advanced technology in there," she pointed to his armored skull, "you lost… come on… Triad…"

"Tomorrow,,, 2000?" He admitted his defeat and the rematch scheduled. "You have a near machine-like ability to play the odds, Starbuck," he joked to her.

"Are you still conducting the movie night?" Carter asked.

"Movie night?" Major Avion repeated, his head going back at the surprise a machine would ask that.

"We downloaded over 500,000 hours of movies, TV shows, and documentaries from Earth into the Pegasus and Galactica computers," Carter told him. "The last movie we watched was a comedy, Anchorman, a week before the New Caprica operation."

"We were orbiting New Caprica for nearly fifteen months. There was not much to do," John said.

Avion eyed him suspiciously. "You get… bored?" For the time Avion had known Iblis and some of the other Guardians, he'd never seen them get bored or overly happy or laugh. They had smiled and been amused, but Gregory Avion knew he would never have caught Iblis watching a comedy, let alone recreational television.

"Yes."

"These are all Earth movies?" Avion asked, intrigued. "I'm a bit of a movie buff, myself," he said, puffing up his chest slightly. "Science fiction, action, drama mainly… alien war movies and stuff like that. But everything is good."

"Okay… I have to ask, John, Carter, don't be offended please," she began on seeing them take another drink, "But where does that go," she motioned with her head. Before they could respond Starbuck felt a hand on her back and jumped, she turned quick, her reflexes taking over and spilling her drink slightly on the deck. "Damnit, Lee, don't do that, I hate that," she said in a playful but stern tone towards her husband.

He smiled dismissively at her. "So, how is everyone doing here? Major Avion, congratulations are in order. You're CO of your own ship. Not bad," he shook the Major's hand.

"Thank you, sir," he accepted, nodding his gratitude. "We were just talking about John and Carter and their Earth movies."

"Ask to see The Matrix, Major. That's a good one," he told him, give him a friendly tap on the chest. "Anyway, I'm sure we can send over the data disks with all the movies for Helios." He tapped Carter on the shoulder. "Hey, didn't you two tell Helo he could fire those weapons you all built? You know you need my authorization to draw them from the armory? So… tell me what time and we'll all go down," he told them, excitement in his voice. He'd been able to fire the isotope weapons on once other occasion. The static buildup and the crack and hiss of the plasma weaponry was exhilarating. "Those things put anything we have to shame."

"Ah… yeah, and let's not forget me," Starbuck told him. "I know you like your guns, but I think one of the reason you married me was because I like big guns quite a bit," she winked. Apollo blushed, clenching his teeth to keep himself from laughing. The innuendo was not lost completely on the Earth machines or Major Avion, who had to turn so they didn't see him laugh at Apollo's expense.

"Anyway, changing the subject," John said, grin on his face, "back to the guns and all that… we have some ideas we'd want to run by you or the Admiral sometime."

"With the Cylons chasing us…" Major Adama began before turning to Avion and holding up his glass, "You're going to be in for a rough ride," he said, nodding as he affirmed what he was saying before taking one last sip. "And I hear you're a good pilot. We should go up sometime. I think all of us here have flown before. John was a Raptor pilot and you flew something back on Earth… an A-something?"

"A-10," John said.

"And Carter, do you have experience in the cockpit? I'm sure you have a program or something?" Apollo finished. His question wasn't meant to be insulting as his tone was friendly and inclusive.

Resistance fighters opposed to the machines often substituted 'program' in for 'experience' or other such phrases to constantly remind machines of their supposed place. Under humans.

"I have experience back on Earth in helicopters and jet planes and yes, I do know how to fly Vipers and Raptors."

Major Avion was slightly more curious about the machines from Earth. "What is an A-10?"

"It's a ground attack aircraft with heavy plasma canons, missiles, and weapons to take out heavy Skynet tanks and endoskeletons," John told him

Starbuck tried to redirect the conversation back to everyone flying rather than trying to listen to two conversations at once. "Then we should somehow get it so we can all go up sometime. A training exercise or recon mission," Starbuck said, supporting Apollo's proposal. "It'll have to be at night or early morning though, off duty. Anyway… I think you guys have earned some time in the cockpit after helping us so much."

==========Colonial One (+834 Days Post Cylon Holocaust)==========

President Roslin had seen her morning go from bad to worse. First, she had been woken up by the stomping of a dozen Guardian Centurions on the hull of Colonial One. Second, most of the toilets were shut down because Demetrius suffered a malfunction and had to eject its sewage, which was now frozen and floating around the stationary fleet, and third, she was now in a meeting with Admiral Cain.

Commander Adama was there, of course. She preferred him to be there whenever she had had to meet with Cain. Her commander always seemed to calm her down when she was on the brink of exploding at the insufferable Admiral Helena Cain. They were both leaders of the fleet, each with the belief their way was always best. Adama had been forced to be the man behind the scenes, forcing the two to check their competitive attitude for the good of the fleet.

"This is a civilian matter, Admiral," Roslin told her point blank. "When I agreed to split command of this fleet after Ragnar, military decisions to the military which is now you, I would retain control of the civilian fleet." She tossed her black rimmed glasses on the ever expanding pile of papers. She was going to call for Billy. Mentally sighing at him not being there, she remembered she had ordered him to cool down after arguing with Cain about something the other day.

"And this is a military decision. The upgrades to engines, armor, et cetera, will be vital in providing protection for this fleet," Cain countered.

"I support turning the military transports into gunships, but if you're going to take Astral Queen and make her some sort of…. I don't know what you call it, a gunboat or something, it's going to concentrate Cylon attack on the civilian ships. And Zarek is already protesting this."

Cain sighed in disbelief that the President would not see her logic in this. Since day one Cain had wanted to outfit ships with weapons. But they'd never had enough weapons. With the two military transports filled to the brim with fleet personnel, ammunition, and spare parts, and with the Guardians offering assistance, now was the perfect time.

"Not just Astral Queen. Celestra is an old research ship we can easily armor and put weapons on her and a few others," Cain insisted. "Again, this is defensive. Commander Adama's staff and my own are already drafting new standing orders for the civilian fleet concerning engagements. They will still jump. But now we have Helios and two gunships added." She paused. "Madame President we have more options than we did two weeks ago."

President Roslin was about to accuse the Admiral of wanting to return to the Colonies and fight. Cain had pressed to return to the Colonies and Laura had never understood why she had given that up. It was unlikely the Earth machines convinced her, or maybe they did, Roslin wasn't sure. But ever since that first meeting, when Cain stepped out of her Raptor, the President knew she would be trouble.

Roslin mentally rolled her eyes remembering when Cain said to Adama, 'Welcome back to the fleet.' That had set the tone for this dysfunctional relationship between civilian and military.

Commander Adama, sensing a strong build up in tension decided to jump in at that moment. "The Admiral is correct in wanting to add additional weapons to the ship. It already has the fire control computers and can support an expanded system." This is where he was forced to walk a fine line between his commanding officer and the president. "The President does have a point that we need to consult the civilian leadership before arming their ships."

"I've heard the complaints," Cain said dismissively. "That if we arm the ships the Cylons will target them. The Cylons target the civilian ships anyway. And arming them provides more protection just in case our ships are unable to defend the fleet. We're adding eighteen civilian ships. We already have a difficult enough time guarding the fleet with two battlestars. Even with Helios is will be difficult."

"How difficult?" Roslin asked, feeling the beginning of defeat.

"A high yield, proximity nuclear missile could wipe out a quarter of our fleet with how close we are forced to keep them. A fleet this size should have an entire battlestar squadron as escorts." Cain was adamant. She did want the best for the fleet. By her line of reasoning if the Cylons somehow did destroy Pegasus, Galactica, and Helios the civilians would not be totally defenseless.

"I've already had two dozen ship captains and half the Quorum come to me complaining about Centurions on their hulls and the disruptions they are causing," Roslin said, ignoring Cain's military analysis. She looked over towards the Commander, who was just sitting there subtly starring down at the carpeted floor. "And we have Mr. Jahee and the suicide bomb, the walking skeleton of death, and you can understand why the captains are a little wary of letting Guardians… they're still Cylons to a lot of people. Only a thousand people were on the battlestars and saw the Guardians help us. No one else did, Admiral. You need to remember that."

"I don't believe we've lost sight of that," Adama said, maintaining his diplomatic neutrality. "The rescue has given us a honeymoon period, Madame President. We need to take advantage of it." He straightened his back in the large leather chairs of Colonial One. "If we wait then the fleet will catch its breath. The Quorum will become… organized," he smiled slightly to Roslin, subtly teasing her, "and we won't be able to get these upgrades and armaments on."

Laura Roslin could feel the walls of defeat closing in around her. She felt that the Commander was on her side, but he'd been distant from her since returning. Her thoughts drifted to the… wonderful time they had had together on New Caprica. The five months he had been gone had left him distant. Regardless, the two officers in front of her, and Admiral Cain in particular, would get their way somehow. Commander Adama had listened to her after Kobol and her own mutiny. Now, she thought, it might be time to listen to him.

"I can talk to the Quorum. But I want either Billy or Tory working with both your staffs when you design new… standing orders for emergency situations. If you are going to convert civilian ships into military, I need to know where you will keep the violent prisoners on Astral Queen, where the civilians will be relocated to, and no ship to be overcrowded." She debated how firm she wanted to make her last words. She decided if the Admiral was going to be offended, then she would be offended. "You understand?" She finished with force.

Admiral Cain nodded. Quietly, she dismissed herself, Adama stood out of military courtesy, before sitting back down to talk with the president.

Both women ended that meeting believing they had outflanked the other.