==========Rebel Cylon Baseship (+951 Days Post Cylon Holocaust)==========
Natalie stood silently in the only room on the entire baseship even the Ones, Fours, and Fives had considered 'hallowed.'
She scoffed at the term as she thought of her murderous brothers. Those under Cavil might have seen the hybrid chamber not as holy but venerated. And that was only because the hybrid was the central CPU of the baseship. It served a purpose, a vital purpose, so the her three brothers treated it like they would any other machine on a ship; with care and precision.
The bio-Cylon brought her hand up and ran it through her dirty-blond hair as she stood at the foot of the hybrid tank. In a sudden it of self-consciousness she banished the worried and frightened look from her face then looked slowly over her left shoulder at the Centurion standing guard. She attempted to summon the strength to order it to leave the chamber, but knew that would be an epitome of futility.
One was here, but dozens were just around the corners always waiting and always guarding. There was always a Centurion in the chamber and there were more somewhere. One of the many tens of thousands of Centurions on the baseship always stood guard over the… as Natalie saw it, a babbling, half-mad hybrid.
She licked her lips and tilted her head slightly and was ready to do something she hadn't really done before; speak to the hybrid. Or, at least, attempt to speak to the hybrid and hold some sort of conversation with… 'it'.
Subconsciously she fiddled with her hands, first cracking her knuckles and then rubbing her palms together. She reached down to place her hands on her gun belt, but remembered she had placed it outside the chamber. The Centurion had stood in front of her, its seven and a half feet of chrome metal armor an impenetrable wall and had denied her entrance until she had removed her sidearm.
Realizing she was just delaying the inevitable with her thoughts of her journey from her personal quarters to the chamber she took a deep breath and let it out slowly as she descended to sit on her heels.
"...ship life-support cycling oxygen… carbon dioxide scrubbers operating at 99.97% optimal efficiency… stars- luminous balls of plasma held together by gravity… intense radiation detected… section ninety three through ninety five frame seventeen arm three still under repairs… two hours… "
Natalie just sat there on her heels at the base of the tank watching the hybrid speak. In between ship reports it, or she, would almost sound lucid, like it could hold a conversation with a bio-Cylon if it wanted to.
'It'. Natalie wasn't sure how to classify the hybrid. And she didn't even know if the hybrid would appreciate being classified as anything or if the hybrid could appreciate anything. She grimaced at this thought.
The strange, enigmatic history of the hybrid program was well-known while simultaneously cloaked in secrecy within the Cylon empire. Ironically it had been the Guardians, the one who had refused to evolve past their machine selves, which had developed and fled with the first hybrid.
The Centurions on Natalie's ship had sided with her and the Twos and Eights automatically. The Raiders on her baseships had also sided with her faction, the 'rebels.' She closed her eyes. She wasn't a rebel. She was a Cylon and proud to call herself one. Those under Cavil and the masquerading god were the rebels. She smirked as she remembered the exact word Captain Kendra Shaw had called the other; Cynet.
She wasn't sure how the hybrid had chosen to side with her, or why any of the hybrids had on any of her baseships. Natalie couldn't help but wonder if maybe they knew something she didn't… but that was why she was done here. She needed answers.
"...ftl jump occurs between observable planes… physics… two atoms contact and fuse… twenty-nine thousand, four hundred and eighteen unique signatures detected throughout baseship gamma one four dash six charlie… raider organic cloning facilities operating at peak capacity… tyllium reserve level at ninety-four point two percent…"
Natalie watched and wondered how the hybrid saw the universe, saw her. She recalled what Leoben believed with the hybrids; he would swear the hybrids saw the universe in a way a bio-Cylon or mechanical Centurion would never comprehend. The data stream for a hybrid was more intense because they were a part of it, rather than just a temporary, superfluous connection like a bio-Cylon. Even connected to the data stream and feeling data from the thousands of sensors in, on, and surrounding the baseship could never compare to being a part of that. The hybrid 'filtered' the data, so the bio-Cylons never experience the universe as it was meant to be experienced. Or so Leoben said…
"I… need advice," she said slowly. She cringed when the hybrid stopped its ramblings and lay there, unblinking. The eerie stare and pale white skin sent a shiver up Natalie's back. But the hybrid resumed its ramblings and ship diagnostic statistics within seconds.
The bio-Cylon felt her heart drop at the perceived failure. But she wouldn't give in, not yet. She stood up and moved closer and around to crouch next to the hybrid's head.
The Centurion cocked its head and took two steps forward and stopped as Natalie held up her hands.
Natalie heard the ominous clank-clank of the Centurion's steps. Controlling her body she released hormones to calm her racing rate.
Taking a deep breath she turned to the Centurion. "It's okay, I won't do anything," she reassured the Centurion.
It red eye had stopped in the center of its visor and she knew the Centurion was thinking and communicating with the others. She could hear faint, distant voices in the back of her mind; the wireless communications the Centurions preferred to engage in.
Their conversations were private and rarely shared with the bio-Cylons. While the Centurions were in a form of a collective consciousness with all the other Cylons aboard the baseship, like all the humanoid models, they also formed a sub-collective comprised of only Centurions. Just like Natalie was connected with the other Sixes or Leoben with the Twos and Boomer with the Eights.
She had stood and waited, her body half turned facing the Centurion and half towards the hybrid. The roving red eye resuming its movement was indicative enough of Centurions acquiescence to her moving closer. But the Centurion remained close, and she could hear the metal clanks of a pair of Centurions in the hallway outside.
While paranoid over the safety of the hybrid the two new arrivals respectfully waited outside the chamber, out of eyesight, in deference to the Cylon commander.
"…processing at current efficiency ratings are acceptable… no damage… request of heavy raider patrol… hanger bay doors openings…"
She looked over the hybrid one last time before moving closer. The conducting gel was glowing an eye piercing white, almost brighter than what she thought it should be. And the body of the hybrid was a shadow in the bottom of the tub, connected to optical lines in her spine, and muscle-stimulation sensors to prevent atrophy. The hybrid was not just a CPU, it was a link. For Cylon society to function it required the mechanical and the biological. Neither was superior and neither was inferior.
She took a deep breath.
"I need your help," Natalie whispered as she knelt down on the cold, hard metal deck plates. "I… I… think you can understand what I am saying. Leoben does this a lot, I believe," she remarked off handedly. She bit down on her teeth repeatedly as she thought what she should say next. "I don't know if we can win the war. I feel Cavil is playing with us… he's sick, sadistic. He's a reflection of the infection which led us to war."
"…the cycle continues and will repeat…. refueling heavy raider dispatched for combat air patrol… it continues… the strong shall pray on the weak-"
"Natalie?" A man's voice said in surprise.
The bio-Cylon looked up and back down at the hybrid.
"…cycle airlock for maintenance… begin-"
She clenched her jaw. The hybrid had something. She had the hybrid's attention and Leoben interrupted her. Shooting up she balled her fists, a look of rage on her face. And Leoben, she noted, immediately recognized her change in demeanor and stopped.
He stood there, still and as calm as a statue, but his dark eyes and worn features betrayed his concern. But a long second later his face changed to embarrassment and shame at the realization he had interrupted something holy.
"I'm… I'm sorry, I-"
Natalie felt a wave of guilt flush over her as she saw her closest friend and brother apologize to her. She mouthed to him to 'stop' and she held up her hand and walked over to him. He grabbed it and she hugged him for what seemed like minutes.
He broke the embrace, but kept her close with his hands on each of her arms. The nervousness and unease she had felt in the hybrid's chamber had disappeared as she felt his strength augmenting her own.
She should have brought him down with her, she realized.
"Natalie, what are you doing here?" He asked quietly. He looked over to the Centurion behind her, which had stepped back to its original position against the wall and nodded to it. "The Centurion told me you were down here," he said softly.
She felt his eyes piercing into her, his powerful eyes and the almost unnatural skill of his where he could read the soul of anyone close to him. She didn't meet his eyes though; she kept them low and focused on the ground.
The sides of her mouth came up in a fit of confusion. She felt embarrassed to be here after she had chastised Leoben for so long about his 'obsessions', which included the hybrid. He spent so much time with it, or her… Natalie knew he would listen and accept her reasons for being with the hybrid without a shred of judgment. But still, she just could tell him. She was hoping…
"You were talking to the hybrid. You believe she can hear the Voice of God?" He asked her gently. He ran his right hand up and down the length of her left arm. "You can tell me anything," he said, nudging her closer to reveal her purpose in the hybrid chamber to him.
She looked up at him and smiled but then turned away and walked again towards the base of the tank. The Centurion didn't move, not with Leoben there. The Centurion did cock it heads in curiosity at what the two would do now.
Natalie wrapped her arms around her stomach in worry. "I don't know. I just feel that Cavil is planning something. The fleet is set to rendezvous. I'm worried, Leoben, truly worried. And I think somehow the hybrid, she, it, might be able to give me advice on what to do next." She felt relief to admit her purpose here.
"I understand," he said, remaining behind her. "The hybrid helped me find the Guardians and she has helped me find so much."
Natalie shook her head. "But… I don't… uh, I don't see her as hearing the Voice of God, I don't know." She admitted quickly. "I know what you think of her. You tell us she exists on a plane of consciousness that no Cylon could ever experience, not even when connected to the data stream."
She looked back behind her and met Leoben's eyes. He took it as permission to move closer to her and the hybrid.
He pulled his pants legs up and knelt down. He extended his hand over the conducting fluid but didn't place it in. Natalie was shocked the Centurions would allow Leoben such liberty. But a moment's thought told her it made sense. He might be the only one the Centurions trusted explicitly next to the hybrid.
Daniel had tried to approach the hybrid months ago but had been turned away by the Centurions. Dozens had seemingly appeared out of nowhere to block his approach. It had been something Natalie had never seen. And compared to that and even her, the trust the Centurions showed to Leoben was miraculous.
"Since I was created I've been coming down here. It's been decades. It takes time, Natalie," he said while gently looking over the hybrid.
Natalie shook her head and moved closer to Leoben and placed her hand gently on his shoulder.
"We don't have decades," she declared, staring absently ahead at the bright white wall. "We don't have years. We don't have months." She sighed. "Maybe I should have come down here before this all started and asked the hybrid then. What do you think she thinks of us killing the others like her?"
Leoben didn't answer right away, but kept his hand and eyes focused over the conducting gels of the hybrid's tank. Finally he brought his hands back and pushed up on his knees, standing up besides Natalie once again.
"We can't live in the past. The hybrid… she… understands what is being done. She understands, I believe, more than any of us." He held his hands together. "She exists with us, as Cylons," he separated his hands, "but also apart from us. I think death for her, for them, is quite different. Liberating… maybe?" he asked quietly.
"We've fought against dying since creation-"
"Maybe the hybrids are closer to God because they do die. They don't resurrect… they're too… complicated. But even that word doesn't do them justice," Leoben mused. "Was any creation meant to be immortal?"
A look of pain washed over Natalie's face as the self-doubt consumed her.
"I don't know, Leoben. I don't know."
She walked back over next to the hybrid and kneeled. She exhaled slowly as she watched, rather than listened, to the words flowing from the hybrid's mouth. For a minute she tried to image herself in the tank.
She couldn't image.
"…around the conflict goes… corridor nine dash a light fixture seventy two in need of repair… summoning repair centurion… aberrant signals detected… purging, purging…"
Natalie cocked her head.
"What signals?" She asked. The hybrid ignored her. "What signals?" She raised her voice.
Leoben walked over quickly. "Natalie, you can't raise your voice to her," he warned.
With the same blank, absent expression and pedestrian voice the hybrid continued to speak.
"…what is time?... possibility of quantum conjugate duality… paradoxes… collapsing wave…self-consistency!… no… impossible…. impossible… raider ninety-seven dash three cleared for docking, proceed to pre-assigned landing bay… increased density of sub atomic particles detected… running diagnostic…"
"What did she mean, Leoben?" Natalie asked, looking up at the equally stunned bio-Cylon.
Leoben shook his head and kneeled down next to her. "I don't know. I've never heard her ask a question like that and try to answer it. The science… it's beyond my understanding."
Frustrated, Natalie blew out and turned back to the hybrid.
"Cavil's forces had their first victory; minor, but a victory nonetheless. I keep feeling that Cavil and his puppet master are playing us."
"Our society was built on manipulations and lies and those same flaws held us… held us together until-"
She looked over at Leoben from the corner of her eye. "If we'd never attacked humanity we'd still be, I don't know, a family… maybe, ha," she laughed.
Leoben could hear the sadness. He'd distracted himself from the internal politics of the Cylon empire for so long and he'd shielded himself more and more after the holocaust of the Colonials. He was still trying to understand the enormity of the responsibility placed on Natalie's shoulders.
But he and she and all the models were responsible for the holocaust. It was a unanimous vote, after all.
Countless millions of the true Cylon race looked to her as their leader. It was a responsibility she did not wish to carry alone.
As Leoben looked down he told himself she didn't deserve to carry this burden by herself.
"Natalie, you need to share. Coming to the hybrid won't work unless you believe in what she tells us. Desperation… isn't faith… it's not… and that's what you need. It's still desperation." He paused as he tried to read her reaction. "I'm sorry, but-"
"No, you're right, Leoben."
He grimaced at the flat concession and moved closer to her. She was still focused on the hybrid.
"Maybe I can help you?" he offered in apology.
Before he could move a sudden flash of movement and a loud splash caught his attention. The hybrid had grasped onto Natalie's upper arm and had pulled her down sideways towards the tank while simultaneously pulling herself up and out of the tank.
Natalie stared wide eyed and saw her blue eyes reflecting in the dark orbs of the hybrid.
Leoben was stunned and immobile.
"…three will walk in the fires of the furnace… gateway of the lost will show damnation and survival… the false prophets…their great signs will bring destruction… all of this has happened before… raider 97 dash three has docked and is refueling… baseships report entering fleet formation… ready for jump… by your command…"
Leoben reached back and shot up. The Centurion was at the base of the tank, its optical scanner fixed on the two bio-Cylons and its metal claws balled into fists. The Centurion was read to activate its guns.
"Natalie, come with me," Leoben said quietly. His concern penetrated his previously calm and even voice. He looked over towards the Centurion, which was fixated on Natalie. "Please," he begged.
He took a step forward but stopped when the Centurion cocked its head towards him. He saw two more appear at the periphery of the chamber with their claws extended.
"What does this mean?" Natalie asked as she still held her arm out over the hybrid's tank. She felt cold s the gel began to leak down her forearm and hand, back into the tank. "Please," she sounded desperate.
The hybrid stopped talking for just a second, then resumes, but the hybrid had difficulty forming words and kept starting and stopping and stuttering.
Natalie looked back to Leoben for help.
He came forward. "Ask her again," he told her.
He looked up warily over her hunched back and saw the three Centurions in the chamber still gazing right at them. The one at the base of the tank could be on top of the two bio-Cylons before they could process their surprise if it chose, and crush their necks between its clawed hands.
"This is something new. Wonderful," Leoben said.
The bio-Cylon nodded.
"What does this mean?"
The hybrid stopped and smiled. Natalie held her breath at the discomfort running through her body and the creepy smile on the hybrid's face.
The hybrid repeated what it had said only minutes earlier without grabbing Natalie's arm as it had done.
"…three will walk in the fires of the furnace… gateway of the lost will lead to damnation and survival… from where the ground will shake the trumpet shall sing death … their great signs will bring destruction… the false prophets… all of this has happened before… this does not have to happen again… end of line, end of line, end of line… ready to jump… end of line… by your command… ready to jump… by your command…"
Natalie kept her eyes fixed on the hybrid's eyes as the smile faded and she began repeating '…ready to jump… by your command…' over and over. She finally turned towards Leoben and mouthed 'help me' towards him.
She looked back down at the hybrid and ordered it to jump the fleet rendezvous.
As the ship jumped she felt a familiar presence in her mind. It was so similar to the wireless communications the models and Centurions used to talk to each other at distance, but at the same time it was so much more powerful.
She was projecting somehow, in between the realities of FTL jump space and real space, where the bonds of the universe were in flux, she knew the hybrid was somehow communicating with her.
The hybrid was showing her something.
Natalie found herself in a bunker strewn with burned bodies and rotting corpses. After a moment of hesitation and shock she began walking forward through the bodies. She saw man and machine alike. She stepped with a light foot, careful to not touch the bodies of the machines or humans littering her path. The bio-Cylon was not sure which way to go in the maze of the corridors. No matter which direction she turned there were more and more bodies with craters and black scorching along the dirty concrete walls. In the dark concrete there was the blood stains and countless humans, splattered along the wall along with skin, organs, and muscle. The machines, she saw, were shattered, with black and brown bolts and metal armor twisted, melted, and burned.
She could see all the bodies, slouched against the walls, lying in heaps, and contorted at unnatural angles. But everything was unfocused. Natalie could make out no faces. All she could see were the holes, burn marks, and shattered bodies of the dead.
She felt the ground shake and what little light there had been vanish before her. She stumbled, but shot out her hand and steadied herself on exposed rebar. She felt pain stab through her hand and arm and recoiled. Blood was oozing down her palm and down her fingertips, dripping onto the deceased below her. Natalie looked around frantically, trying to see any way out in the near pitch black of the corridor. But another rumble brought dust and particulates showering down on her hair. Coughing she looked down and closed her eyes.
Through a small slight in her eyelids she saw a light projected onto the end of the corridor, not more than a dozen meters away. She tried to move, but was stuck. She felt her leg muscles working and she was trying to lift her legs, but they felt heavy. Finally there was enough light she could look down, and she almost screamed when she saw the hands of human and machine grabbing on her ankles, holding her in place.
"Oh God, help me!" She shouted.
As she struggled she didn't see the silhouette appear until it was in front of her, at the end of the corridor.
"Help me," she begged desperately. "Help…" she trailed off in disbelief as she realized who was staring at her.
It's eyes were fury and it smiled a demon's smile and raised a pistol and shot her.
"Natalie, Natalie!" Leoben shouted.
She slowly opened her eyes and found herself cradled in his arms, his back propped against the back wall of the chamber. The three Centurions had formed a semi-circle around her and Leoben and were standing motionless, their red eyes still, all staring down at her.
"Natalie, we jumped five minutes ago and you went limp," he explained without waiting for the inevitable 'what happened?' question.
Natalie looked up at him and his customary scowl and heavy features looked tired and worn. She saw dread in his eyes and his face.
"I think… I think everything will be okay," she said as she looked into his glossy eyes. She stayed still as he looked down on her and smiled. She forced a smile on her own lips.
Her brother knew her well, but she also knew her brother. She could lie to him effectively if she had to. While she kept repeating everything would be okay the image of the silhouette and the flash of the pistol had been burned into her mind. With each lie she told Leoben the blackness she felt tugging at her soul pulled harder and harder.
Whatever the hybrid had done to her… she had no idea. But she wasn't going to allow whatever had happened to stop her from carrying out her duty and leading the Cylons to victory.
==========BS-75 Galactica (+954 Days Post Cylon Holocaust)==========
Since jumping from the Cylon armada at the Guardian mobile command facility the Galactica's tactical and strategic operations center, nicknamed 'War Room,' had been a hub of activity for the running of the fleet.
In an attempt to 'diversify fleet command and control should a military vessel be disabled' fiber optic lines and additional computer stations and massive wall monitors had been placed in the War Room behind the CIC to aid the fleet in the efficient distribution of resources.
While the War Room was now sparsely used, well passed its glory of the Cylon War years, it had been a location of importance in the months leading up to the arrival of Pegasus. The War Room had served as a command point for rescuing the hostages on Astral Queen, attacking the Cylon tyllium mines, and planning the rescue on and over New Caprica.
President Roslin was in the so-called 'War Room', waiting for Commander Adama to return after being called into the CIC for some reason or another. But while thinking of this Roslin paced around the center plotting table. She remembered her joy when the surprise Viper squadron had launched on the tyllium refinery and when a crewman had placed the new Viper squadron on the edge of the plot she now ran her fingers over.
And she remembered, quite vidvidly, the heavy feel of betrayal when Commander Adama had told her he still had the 'old habit' of classifying information on a 'need-to-know' basis.
Roslin smiled at that horrible memory. But actually, it might be a good memory now, she conceded. He'd never do anything like that ever again.
Coming back around to where she had been standing when Dee called for Adama she racked her brain and tried to remember the military slang the young woman had used when she had come to retrieve him from their meeting. But even after nearly a thousand days President Roslin was still at a loss. During the first month of their flight she'd asked Billy to assemble a list of military acronyms, abbreviations, and slang, which he had done with efficiency and determination only Billy was capable of, but she'd given up after seeing the tome.
But while she waited her lips curled into a devious smirk while she remembered the 'conversation' she, Adama, and Cain had concerning the idea to make Galactica's 'War Room' into a nexus for the civilian fleet operations:
She recalled that Admiral Cain had been sitting comfortably, laid back even, which Roslin remembered had surprised her. The Admiral had 'mellowed out' quite a bit as Commander Adama had jokingly remarked to her at Baltar's ground breaking ceremony on New Caprica. But to her the Admiral always seemed to be on edge. Even leaning back in the plush leather seats of Colonial One, Roslin thought the Admiral could pounce up onto her feet at the blink of an eye and have her hands around her throat even faster.
"Madam President, may I remind you that Pegasus is the flagship of this fleet," Admiral Cain had sternly stated aboard Colonial One months ago. She kept the same calm, composed posture, but Roslin had remembered there was no doubt of the scorn in the Admiral's voice.
She remembered almost word for word her responses to the Admiral. "I understand, Admiral. But as the primary military vessel of this fleet you're more likely to jump away on a mission or stay behind to cover the fleet. We need another ship which can coordinate fleet resources if that occurs or if Pegasus is on a mission without Galactica. Colonial One has limited facilities and could not provide for long-term coordination of the fleet."
"The concerns of the fleet are also a military concern," Cain had stated. She had leaned forward and put her elbows on her knees.
Back in the present Roslin could count the number of times Cain had done that before exploding up, out of her seat, and launching into an argument with the president. The Admiral still considered her 'the school teacher'. And Roslin had to mentally laugh but she also brought her hand up to her mouth to keep the others around her from seeing her start to gin. Being a school teacher on New Caprica certainly had not helped that image.
Still waiting for Adama, she let her mind wander again back to the 'discussion' with the Admiral:
"Like I said, I understand. But you can't just hand wave away the civilian government and classify everything as 'military' concerns," she remembered herself saying. The little hand wave and flick of the wrist she'd thrown in there had been to annoy the Admiral. And she remembered it had worked quite well.
Admiral Cain's eyes had darkened and narrowed and the tiny muscles between her upper lip and nose had started to twitch.
As always, Commander Adama had come between the two strong-willed women. Roslin been hoping Adama would interject and offer wise words of wisdom. She was doing this for him… whether he realized it or not.
"Madam President, Admiral," he always addressed them in proper order, "if Galactica is to have this fleet operations centers then Pegasus would need to send over officers and crew to ensure proper dissemination of information between the Galactica, Helios, Colonial One, and the fleet flagship."
Roslin remembered how she had forced herself to smile at Adama's words.
She had looked over to Admiral Cain at that moment and she knew the military woman had figured out what was happening here. A look of understanding had flushed across her face and Roslin remembered seeing her look over towards Adama than quickly glance back towards the president.
She recalled relief when she realized the Admiral had focused the ire and hate towards her instead of Adama. Roslin knew Cain knew Adama would never go behind her back like this. He had been in the dark as much as Cain had been.
She had fixed in her memory that her own eyes had glossed over as she attempted to star between the two and she had dearly hoped she had not overplayed her hand and hurt Commander Adama. But she had wondered then, just as she wondered now if the 'Hero of New Caprica' would appreciate her overtures.
"I can see the necessity as Pegasus, as flagship and our most heavily armed offensive unit, may need to leave the fleet. The systems aboard Helios would not be sufficient for coordinating over seventy ships. But even with this operations center, Galactica would be able to protect the fleet should I need to take Pegasus on a mission. However, Madam President the battlestar would still be my right hand in military offensives," she had said. "And I suggest you also upgrade Colonial One sufficiently should the warships need to depart the fleet for offensive actions against the Cylons."
President Roslin was suddenly shaken back from her thoughts and realized she had been staring absently into the wall monitor. Commander Adama had placed a hand on her shoulder and had repeated her name three times until she had responded to him with a smile. Looking away she blinked hard to get the bright colored spots from the monitors out of her eyes. She felt better after rubbing her eyes with her thumbs.
Lieutenant Gaeta and Captain Shaw were standing on opposite sides of the monitor while her and Commander Adama stood together against the central command and plotting station a few meters away to be able to see the entirety of the map.
"As you know, I've been working with Pres-, former President Baltar on trying to find Earth," Gaeta stated with a sheepish correction. "He was working with the machines before that…"
"Yes, I'm sorry, Mr. Gaeta, but we don't need a history lesson," Roslin said cutting him off. The little slip of almost saying 'President' Baltar soured her mood. She tilted her head down and stared towards the map over the black rim of her glasses and motioned with her eyebrows for Gaeta to continue.
The lieutenant was still stalled in his presentation from when the President interrupted him, so she found it necessary to speak again. "We've been off the road for months now. It's time we got back on. So how far off our course are we, if we even know the course."
Gaeta smiled, embarrassed and looked over to Commander Adama who nodded for him to continue.
Captain Shaw had discreetly rolled her eyes at the display.
"Right, yes… sir." He reached down and dragged a second map from the bottom corner of the display and 'threw' it onto the center of the screen. He enlarged it to double its size by tapping it twice on a small red box in the corner of the image. Not satisfied with the size he tapped the box four more times to double it again then again.
Mr. Gaeta, smiling to himself, turned around to finish (or begin) his briefing of the President and Commander. But before he could speak, the impetuous Captain Shaw spoke first.
"We're dozens of jumps off our… 'course', Madam President," Shaw said. She touched the screen and the fleet's current position popped up as red. The battle of the Guardian facility showed green, with New Caprica showing up as a pale yellow.
Captain Shaw, while a believer in the Lords of Kobol, doubted that Pythia would actually guide them to Earth. But since the machines didn't know where Earth was she'd resigned herself to accepting the advice from the second least helpful source; the machines being the first.
She also felt a little satisfaction that none were here. While Shaw disliked President Roslin she had to acknowledge her determination
It might have been the long nights and no morning coffee, but something on the maps seemed off to the President.
"Surely we've jumped a greater distance?" Roslin asked as she studied the map.
Commander Adama leaned over. "The locations appear closer because New Caprica was 'below' the Guardian facility, Madam President."
Roslin nodded. She felt like smacking herself.
Lieutenant Gaeta pardoned himself and came forward and reached behind the president and opened up his copy of the Scrolls of Pythia. He opened it up quickly to the passage he was searching for.
"When I was working with Baltar… uh, well, he even did some research while we were on New Caprica," he stated while flipping pages one by one until he reached the relevant passage. He placed it on the wall monitor which scanned it and projected it up to the center of the screen. "He wasn't all that interested in actually running the city…" he added awkwardly. He had looked up and saw the president and Commander just staring at him, so he selected a highlighting tool and ran it over the relevant text. "Ah, here… 'And the caravan of the heavens was watched over by a great lion with a mighty blinking eye…' is our next clue to finding Earth."
"A 'blinking eye' could mean anything? And a great lion…?" Roslin asked.
Gaeta nodded his understanding of her skepticism over the ambiguity of the passage. But he and Baltar had spent hours, days, going over these data the battlestars had gathered and the passages.
"Baltar and the machines believed it to be an astronomical phenomenon causing the 'blinking eye', sir," Shaw said. She turned and centered the image Gaeta had placed in the corner. "The spectrometers and telescopes have detected an eclipsing pulsar, actually, a binary pulsar…" she brought up an animation of the images the computers had created. "Our computers extrapolated the readings from the radio, visual, and spectrographic readings and rendered what the eclipsing binary pulsar may look like."
"What do you suggest, Commander?" she asked and turned to gauge Adama's opinion. He was studying the plots and watching the computer animation with his usual scowl. "Could we begin jumping the fleet?"
He shook his head. "No. All the emergency jumps from fleeing the Cylons expended a significant amount of fuel... and keeping our FTL drives spooled is using significant reserves… no… If that binary eclipse," he motioned with his chin, "isn't the proper road sign the fuel cost would hurt us. We'd have to send a Raptor. Two or three just to be sure. Mr. Gaeta, Captain Shaw, is there any indication the Cylons would know about this pulsar?"
Gaeta looked down at his feet and grimaced and clenched his jaw.
"It's possible," he admitted, looking up and biting his lower lip, "but… I don't know, it's hard to say. I filed away a lot of Baltar's work on the planet. I know the Cylons were interested in it, the D'Anna and the Caprica Six in the brig were very interested." He shrugged. "Other than that sir, I can't be certain enough to make an educated guess."
"If they're engaged in a civil war at this point, Commander, it's unlikely they would be still looking for Earth."
Roslin huffed and folded her arms. "I guess some good did come out of those machines… they may have tricked the Cylons into fighting each other," she commented.
She was still doubting the truth behind what the machines had told her and a lingering, pestering thought in the back of her mind kept nagging at her subconscious, whispering that their precious Earth general wanted Colonial ships and technology for his own personal war. That somehow the machines knew where Earth was, despite their protestations to the contrary, and were just using the fleet.
"Maybe," Adama corrected her softly. "We don't know much… not really, not yet with Commander Cyrus's inability to share information with us," he said as he turned to face the President. "The recon birds we've been sending out have detected a few wireless signals calls… garbled and encrypted… but nothing concrete."
Roslin could read the Commander, tell he was annoyed, upset, and probably pissed at the Guardians. Her mind laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation. She'd said for over two and a half years dealing with machines would lead to nothing but trouble. She even had her reservations about Athena and knew she still wasn't telling them everything she knew about the Cylon race.
The President nodded at the Commander's last remark as she refocused. She'd been feeling slightly dazed and fatigued that whole morning and had even thrown up before departing Colonial One.
"I hope it stays quiet. Maybe if there is a war they'll blast each other to pieces and we'll finally lose them." She hoped that would be the case, but a knot in her stomach told her such wishful thinking would only lead to New Caprica, Part Two.
"Madam President, Commander," Shaw interrupted, "we can have a Raptor recon team ready in an hour."
Shaw had been growing impatient with the needless banter between the two. Listening to them she had let her mind wander back to New Caprica. She'd seen the two together, when they thought they had been alone, secluded. She wondered what had happened between them.
"How long will the mission take?"
"If we hook one of the machines in the lead Raptor, we could be there in six or seven jumps. Maybe three or four hours there, two hours back, sir," Shaw answered immediately.
President Roslin had a look of disappointment at having to allow one of the machines to participate.
Shaw felt it as well, but she knew the machines would make the mission go by a lot faster and safer.
"To see if there is a 'lion's head' nebula the Raptor would need to maintain a distance of point five light years," Gaeta added. "Pulsars normally emit high levels of radiation, but as long as the Raptor stays half a light year or more away, the crews should be safe."
Commander Adama looked over towards the President, who nodded her approval at the unspoken question for permission. Such recon flights blurred the lines between 'military' and 'civilian' operations.
And the Commander didn't miss the miniscule smile which crept up and vanished on Roslin's face. He also saw a silent 'thank you' from her eyes for considering her input.
"Lieutenant Gaeta and Captain Shaw, coordinate with Captain Kelly and get three Raptors in the air. I think one of the Planck's soldiers is on board at the moment in engineering. I'll have Helo request him from Captain Bing and inform Apollo of the recon," Adama finished.
He stood there, his hands resting slightly on his stomach and waited for the two officers to depart. After a second they nodded, saluted, and turned quickly on their heels for CIC to plot the mission and log the orders in the computers.
Looking over her shoulder Roslin noted they were fairly alone, with the rest of the 'War Room' staff busy and preoccupied coordinating fleet traffic and communications.
"I wish that was how it is all the time," Roslin said quietly as she maneuvered herself to Adama's side in front of the wall monitors. "Where you could just inform Pegasus instead-"
Adama held up his hand to cut her off. "We've had Admiral Cain with us for longer than without," he told her. He saw her wince at that bit of truth. "I've gotten used to the orders," he smiled, trying to calm her concern. He shrugged. "After the rough patch-"
Roslin coughed and threw her hand up in front of her mouth. "Excuse me?" She giggled to herself. "I'm sorry, I know it's not funny, but 'rough patch'… that's uh, kind of putting it lightly, Bill." She nudged him. "How is the new 'War Room'?" she asked.
Adama arched his eyebrows and opening his eyes a little wider and calmly turned and looked around and took in the War Room.
"I appreciate the gesture," he said.
It wasn't exactly what the President had been looking for, but she felt it was better than nothing.
"Any little bit I can do."
Her voice was soft and caring.
"I appreciate it… but," he paused when he saw her recoil, "but this… thing, or competition, whatever it is between you and Admiral Cain-"
She put a hand on his arm for him to listen. "I know, Bill. But you're the one who saved us," she whispered. "We know what Cain did and what Shaw did." She turned her head to look out of the War Room and towards where the plotting tables would be in CIC. From where she was standing she couldn't see Shaw, but the gesture wasn't lost on Adama.
"We can't-" he began to protest.
"I still think you should be in command of this fleet, Bill. Whether you want to hear it or not…" she trailed off as she kept her voice deathly quiet. She knew Adama could never forgive her if a crewman overheard and rumors spread. "You told me she 'mellowed out' after we landed on New Caprica… but she was in a Cylon cell the entire occupation. You don't think she has the same pennant for revenge she had when we first met? The upgrades, the armor… she'd never have let the Guardians do that unless she wanted revenge."
Commander Adama ignored the President's observations. He closed his eyes for a moment and focused in on the situation around him. He shifted his weight to get a better look at the President.
"I've been under her command for two years, Laura."
He didn't want to get into an argument. There was one woman in front of him he felt loyalty for not because he was supposed to. There was something deeper there. And a dozen kilometers off the bow was a woman he felt loyalty towards because he was supposed to.
"No. We've been under her command…" she shrugged and let out a barely audible snort, "…you more than me… with Baltar and all that."
He rolled his eyes at the memory of the bitter disappointment and failures of the Baltar Presidency. If he could go back in time (a thought he considered ironic given their guests and circimstances) he'd tell himself to shut the frak up and let Roslin and Tigh and Tory steal the election.
Adama breathed in and out slowly and took a small step closer to the President.
"Laura… I've been hearing rumors-"
"There are rumors about everything, Bill," she pointed out. She'd hear the same tone he had begun using when he would lecture her and express some disappointed or grave disagreement in her decisions. She tried to distract him with that little observation about there always being rumors on everything.
But while the emotional part of her mind was strongly urging her to say something else and distract him, the logical part, the part she trusted him to influence, needed to hear him. He was the only man she truly trusted.
"Laura…" he began again, his lips curling into a worried expression, "I've been hearing the rumors of Delegate Porter trying to land on Helios and of the meeting you had with Major Avion."
She honestly had not expected him to bring up that. So she followed her habitual reaction to bad news and took off her glasses and massaged her nose bridge. She still had her glasses folded in her right hand, her left arm across her stomach and her eyes closed when she responded.
"Remember our deal? Military and civilian operations…" she knew immediately that wouldn't stick. "Delegate Porter is acting, doing, what she believes in right. I've had to make political concessions, Bill. Remember she supported Zarek for the Vice Presidency originally. And after the whole abortion issue…"
He stood impassively as he listened and tried not to cast judgment.
A frightening thought appeared in Commander Adama's mind at that moment. He saw a lot of his father… not his physical looks, obviously, but his demeanor, dedication, and single-minded pursuit of what he thought was right, in the President.
His father had greatly influenced Caprican civil defense laws before his death, revolutionized it even. Roslin was influencing the future of human politics, rewriting the laws and regulations which governed society for a society which not longer existed.
But that 'revolution' had been for the benefit of the criminals. The Ha'la'tha had been the ones to benefit from Joseph Adama's livid and exciting defense tactics. Commander Adama had realized the dedication and single-minded pursuit of what his father thought was 'right' had amounted to nothing more than a public ploy to appear as an idealistic crusader while secretly fighting for a criminal gang responsible for murder, theft, assassination, and so much more across the worlds.
In a sense, he was seeing that now in Laura Roslin. She tried to help those she believed needed help and do what she thought was right, even if unpopular. And when she thought she was right, she pursued her course with a narrow-minded tunnel vision only the ancient Titans could shake.
And now he was seeing the same here. What started as idealism in the first weeks after the Holocaust of the Colonies was quickly turning into a personal crusade against the 'monotheistic cult' which was spreading from the Helios fleet. Commander Adama was concerned the dedication and idealism were just fronts for the possibility of a private pursuit for power and an abolition of anything which could stand in the way of that goal.
Already the Quorum was raising issues of secret executive orders. Talk Wireless and the Colonial Gang were raising issues of the increasing secrecy and lack of recording meeting minutes from the Roslin Administration.And Laura wasn't sharing what she was doing with anyone except Billy and a few aides. Billy and Tory were good people, but Commander Adama knew the dangers of the inevitable group-think which would result if you kept information secret and too compartmentalized.
He also saw his uncle in Laura and saw parts of the murderer in himself as well. He'd known since childhood his uncle had been a murderer, an enforcer, and an assassin for the Ha'la'tha and the Guatrau. And for a time, Adama had almost followed in the steps of his bloody thirsty uncle.
He could remember with a crystral clarity back to the fateful day on board Colonial One where Laura had first told him he had to kill Admiral Cain had shaken him more than he believed she had realized. The two battlestars had almost destroyed each other, but to murder, in cold blood, an admiral of the Colonial Fleet?
He'd seen his uncle and the worse aspects of his father appear in Laura that day and in himself. It'd taken a machine designed to kill, a terminator, to dissuade the president from killing Cain. The irony had not been lost on him.
And now he saw his friend and a woman who had been much more than a friend, going down a very, very dangerous path. His father had tried to quit the Ha'la'tha, but had only been drawn in more by the threats of the Guatrau. He didn't say a silent prayer to the Lords of Kobol, but he did silently vow he wouldn't let Laura go down the path his father had taken or his uncle.
"Laura. Remember when I said if you stole the election it would kill you inside?" He waited until she nodded to continue. "These… this… the politics in this fleet I know you can manage and if you keep going down this path… I think it will hurt the fleet more than anything Admiral Cain could, or could not do. It'll hurt you inside in a way you won't understand until the damage is done."
"This is more than about politics, Bill," she answered in her defense, "it's about survival as a culture. We can survive as a people fine. A thousand years from now if we go to Earth and they're done killing each other we can all have babies and there can be a hundred million descendents… but if none of them remember the Colonies, Kobol, our religion, our practices, our language… we're… we're dead. Survival is more than just surviving. I think you said we need to be 'worthy of survival.' And I agree. But part of being worthy is having the strength in preserving who we are."
Adama began to respond, but closed his mouth and thought for a moment as she had turned his decommissioning speech around on him. It'd been done before, with Sharon before the Battle of New Caprica. Leoben on Ragnar Anchorage had even alluded to something similar, though he'd not have heard the speech in the hanger bay.
He gently sighed. "Madam President, I understand. But these tactics will tear the fleet apart."
She looked over and could see the worry hidden behind a mask which had developed over four decades of military service. Roslin knew she had been fooled by that stoic expression Adama was able to conjur at a moment's notice in the past, but after New Caprica she wasn't.
She knew him.
Roslin wasn't sure what to say, but felt that looking down and staring at the deck plating might help her figure something, anything out.
There was a time when he and she were a team and for a while much more than just a team.
She still saw Admiral Cain as an outsider, the machines as manipulative fraks, and the cult spreading due to a lack oversight and… something… by Major Avion to be threats to the fleet.
But she admitted to herself that was a pragmatist and like the abortion issue, the prisoners on Astral Queen, and the dozens of minor crises which had hit the fleet before New Caprica that she couldn't stop events once in motion, but she could try and steer them somewhere acceptable.
She feared asking this question, but the silence between them was almost painful for her to endure. She felt her body tense as she prepared herself to ask what she had been longing, dying to ask since he came back for her and everyone else on New Caprica.
"When did it change, Bill?" She asked, still looking at the deck plates. "When did it change between us?"
She looked up, but now he was looking down. Gently she placed her hand back on his arm, not really caring if any of the people at the consoles saw this little display. There would be no mistake to anyone who saw that her hand on his arm was anything but a sign of something more intimate.
She started again. "We were happy on New Caprica-"
He looked up, and the raw emotion she could see in his eyes forced her to stop talking and stare back at them. Slowly she saw him reach his opposite hand and lay it on her. But he did something else, something that confused her. She didn't look down, but he felt him grip her hand tightly and squeeze, before slowly lifting it off his arm and letting it fall back to her side.
Adama remembered he had told Sharon, Athena, he 'didn't do regret.'
"You're right," he told her. "But I abandoned you on New Caprica. I fled. I can't forgive myself for leaving you."
She felt a little bit enraged over that. If he felt he abandoned her, it wasn't his responsibility to feel guilt for her. "Bill… you didn't abandon me. You rescue me. You saved everyone. If you'd stayed you'd be dead. I'd be dead. We'd all be dead."
Within seconds she saw the rock hard eyes of the Commander change from guilt to a soft acceptance of what she'd said. He placed a hand on the hand touching his sleeve.
He smiled. "I'm needed in CIC," he said.
==========Raptor 39, En Route to Eclipsing Pulsar (+954 Days Post Cylon Holocaust)==========
"I thought this wasn't supposed to take long?" Captain Kendra Shaw asked incredulously as see glared back at Carter from her bucket seat across from the ECO station in the Raptor.
"We're only two jumps away, please remain calm," Carter answered.
Reflexively she rubbed her helmet where her temple would be.
Of course she was calm. She knew the machine was just trying to get under her skin. Shaw had a retort on the tip of her tongue, but decided it would be better for her own sanity if she held her comments for later.
She looked off to the side of the Raptor and studied the gray-brown inner hull for a minute. Then looking over to the ECO console she watching the various light blinking. Then her shoulder dropped when she figured out how pathetic she'd look if Carter saw her distracted by shiny lights. Not that she really cared for his, it's, opinion anyway. But it would still be embarrassing.
In the limited mobility of flight suit she tried to turn and see what Athena and Racetrack were doing in the Raptor cockpit. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Racetrack's mouth moving, so she assumed the two were talking about something over one of the private com lines in the Raptor.
She rolled her eyes. She didn't really want to talk to the Cylon or the Cylon's friend, anyway.
Now she was wishing she'd brought a book to read or a computer to do work on. She'd thought the mission would give her a few hours to relax. She had hoped these few hours would let her just sit back, relax, and close her eyes as Carter did all the work and the pilots pressed the red jump button a few times. This was like any routine, long range recon mission.
But Shaw, not being a pilot herself, had underestimated the boredom factor. Now she wished she had that little portable game pad Crashdown and his ECO had brought along. They were probably playing some ridiculous fighting game or something. Athena was probably projecting while listening to Racetrack. And she didn't want to guess what Carter was doing. She rolled her eyes again.
Grimacing and sighing with boredom she folded her arms and slouched back in the front bucket seat and watched as the FTL calculations ran through the computer.
She switched her suit's com to channel 18 Delta, the private channel for Carter's suit.
"Can you read that gibberish?" She asked.
"I can read some of it, the important parts," Carter responded. He assumed she was talking about the 'runes' which were scrolling across the monitors.
"What if you miss something?"
He turned his head and smirked. Shaw watched as the cord running out of the oxygen supply nozzle (coming from his skull) into the computer twisted with the movement.
He turned back and concentrated on his work and the calculations for the extended jump when he saw her squinting and attempting to, he assumed, read the machine code. Either that or she was extremely bored. Her previous body language supported the latter hypothesis.
"I won't miss anything." He shrugged. "The machine language is complicated, complex. Most of it is… code. But that's a very simplistic description of what it actually is."
The cavalier, non-chalant attitude slightly annoyed Captain Shaw. But at the same time-
"It's going to be difficult to figure out what it means unless you ask," he pointed out, interrupting her thought. "Here," he held up his hand and pointed at one of the screens.
"What is that supposed to say?" Shaw asked. She got up from her bucket seat and walked over behind Carter and studied the rune-like symbols. She leaned forward slightly and clasped her hands behind her back.
"That's an 'a'," he told her.
The symbol was a mix of various shapes, a circle inside a square with two lines coming off the top of the square, followed by two more dots stacked on top of each other with a '' symbol.
"That's an 'a'?" She asked, not believing him. "That's incredibly complicated." She laughed and shook her head. "Why not just use a normal alphabet?"
He held up his index finger. "Let me correct myself. That's like an 'a'. There is no actual alphabet in the machine language… sort of. It's very difficult to explain. It also relies heavily on geometric figures for the written portions."
"Okay…" she said with a heavy hint of skepticism. "I'm a Classics major, Carter. I can speak four languages, including the Ancient Language spoken on Kobol."
He turned his head slightly before looking back at the screen.
"Congratulations…?" he said with an equal mix of serious and mocking praise.
She saw him cock his head and thought she saw a little devious smirk before Carter's face returned to its normal passivity.
Three lines of machine code scrolled out across the monitor.
"So what does it say?"
"That's your name."
She squinted and leaned closer, placing her hand on the console. "That's my name?" She turned to look at him. "It looks more like a paragraph." She did recognize the 'like an 'a'' symbols.
"Hey, you ready to jump the ship yet?!" Athena yelled.
Carter looked over with a bored glare. There was still three seconds… two seconds… one second… "The calculations are complete. You can jump."
The Raptor fed the coordinates and calculations to the other ships and jumped.
When the Raptor came back from jump space Shaw noticed Carter's left eye was closed and his face looked contorted as if in pain. And as usually, the expression faded in the blink of an eye.
"What's wrong with you?"
"Nothing."
She leaned down to get a better look. "I'm not a fraking idiot. I've seen it happen before. So, what's the problem? There's this wince or something when we jump… but… but not all the time."
Despite trying to sound more curious than concerned, an advanced infiltrator could pick up the subtle differences. He decided honesty was the best course of action.
"We don't know. It only happens when moving in certain directions… we have no idea what long term exposure to jump space does to our neural network CPUs."
"We've jumped more in these past few years then many do in a lifetime," Shaw commented quietly.
"Since coming to the Colonies I've been through one thousand twenty-four faster-than-light jumps. It will be another twenty-five minutes before I have the next set of jump coordinates, Captain."
Shaw rolled her eyes and pushed herself off the console to protest the abrupt change in topics. It was typical. She was used to it. The Pegasus officer looked back towards the cockpit and eyed her bucket seat, but decided to stay behind the ECO console and watch the machine runes race across the screen. She leaned up against the side of the Raptor and folded her arms.
"Do you miss Caprica?"
Captain Shaw didn't process the question immediately.
She was confused. "Um… why do you ask?" she asked after a short delay.
"Curiosity, if you want. I don't hear many people talk about the Colonies much."
"I think New Caprica finally forced us to admit the Colonies were gone forever…" she admitted. She smiled remorsefully and looked down. She pushed herself off the wall and took a seat to Carter's right, in the rear of the Raptor. "The first week was actually the easiest." She shot her head back and questioned herself on why she'd told him that. Her mind kept telling her to shut up but for one reason or another, her mouth kept moving and she kept talking over the private channel between them.
"The first week was actually the easiest. The second and third weeks weren't bad. We were still repairing the ship… those top side heat exchangers," she laughed to herself. "Then we fought at the communic-" she cut herself off before she could finish. Colonel Belzen's blood and brain matter blasted and dripping down the rear plotting graph flashed in front of her. And after that was Scylla… "I think about a month in was when it hit us… uh… we were, well, thought we were, the last survivors of the Colonies. Between then and when Pegasus found Galactica it was tough, real tough. Half a dozen crewmen committed suicide the first month and another dozen had psychotic breaks… and we really thought we were the last… how do you go on? Just revenge… you know? That drains you more than you would realize."
Carter leaned back from the console and looked at her for a second. "There's a lot of ways people try and escape their problems." Then he leaned back and refocused on his work. "After Judgment Day suicide was high. Euthanasia was very common, mainly in those suffering radiation poisoning." He stopped for a second and looked off towards the side. "And yes, I do know." He looked back and saw the confused look. "Revenge, Captain Shaw… on Earth."
He wasn't referring to Skynet, either.
Shaw wasn't paying close enough attention to answer him and she'd missed his quick inspection of her. But she had heard his statement on revenge.
She'd been leaning back and playing with her hands. For a moment, after she'd told him of the suicides and psychotic break downs, the flight suit and helmet made her feel extremely claustrophobic and sick. She closed her eyes. But that didn't help.
Reaching to the rear of her helmet she turned off the soft blue lights which had been illuminating her face. While fleet psychologists claimed they calmed down the pilots during battles or extended operations like this, the lights were making her nauseous.
A few second after turning them off she opened her eyes and felt a wave of serenity wash over her.
She also adjusted the temperature gauge on her flight suit. She was starting to sweat, so if she could make it a little cooler, maybe that'd help.
"Do you miss Earth?" she asked him with her eyes closed. She could barely see the flicker of lights through her eyelids. She knew Carter had turned around and was looking at her when the lights became dark.
She told herself this was intelligence gathering. The more she knew about the machines, the better she could plan for any betrayal of her or the Admiral. She also suspected the machine may have also been doing the same to her; get her trust and force her to let her guard down. She'd not let that happen.
"I would prefer to be there rather than running from a race of killer robots."
She snorted. Now he was trying to be funny. She opened her eyes and found he had swiveled the small stool around and was leaning with his back on the console and was staring at her with his arms folded.
"A yes or no would have been fine," she told him with a grin.
"Then yes, I do. It should also be near December 23 on Earth, on the West Coast, at least… it's the holidays… Christmas is in two days. It's an important celebration for many."
"Yeah? I can't imagine there's much to celebrate on a ruined world… it's ridiculous," she whispered to herself.
"Celebrations are important for morale."
Carter shrugged and stretched out his legs and crossed them down at the ankles. The way he was sitting with a red cord running out the O2 nozzle on the back of his helmet and plugged into the side of the console was slightly hilarious to Shaw.
"Well, it was mostly before Judgment Day. The most people celebrate now is just saying 'Merry Christmas' or 'Happy Independence Day'…'Happy birthday'… or 'build day' if you're a machine… that's about it."
"…build day?" Shaw questioned and eyed him suspiciously. She knew what it meant but didn't believe it.
"Yes. General Connor started it for the machines. First with Cameron then expanded it to the rest… even Catherine Weaver took part and acquiesced and told him her 'build day.'"
"Whatever."
She saw a video sequence start on the monitor. There were mountains and snow and some sporting event. Skiing?
This seemed random to Shaw. "What is that?"
"January 3rd to 10th we and the Connors went to Aspen, a ski resort in the former American Midwest. It was five months until Judgment Day." Shaw saw Carter staring at the hatch and his eyes seemed sort of glazed over, but with a light glow. "By that time Kaliba's operations were too wide spread to stop so General Connor's mother… of all people… if you knew her… suggested a trip. It was unexpected and Planck had been dead set against it, with the open space which could be prime for sniper attacks. But Cameron pointed out if Kaliba and Skynet could track us that easily there was nothing stopping them from redirecting a military UCAV drone to destroy the safe house with a JDAM." He realized she probably didn't know what a UCAV and JDAM were. "Redirect a military drone aircraft to drop a few guided bombs," he elaborated.
Shaw gave him a look. She'd figured out what they were by the context. "It seems a pretty off-the-wall thing to do, anyway. Unexpected," Shaw observed.
"Exactly. That's why she suggested it. It was 'off-the-wall' enough Kaliba and the others… no one would expect it."
Carter brought up a short video of them getting ready for the trip once they'd reached Aspen. Their cabin was massive. It had some strange looking dead animal heads hanging in the foyer. She saw the terminators split up and she assumed they were securing the premises.
She did grin and laugh quietly to herself when she saw Carter, Planck, and some young girl inspecting over a dozen different rifles and a similar number of handguns they'd lain out in a room on the top floor of the cabin.
She saw the video through Carter's eyes. And it was fairly strange seeing him in a mirror, looking at him look at himself. But she saw Planck, looking the exact same (she remembered they had told them they didn't age) and Soto before she changed her appearance.
"Who are they?" She motioned with her chin.
"The one scowling and carrying the black suitcase is Derek Baum, the General's uncle and currently commander of Tech Com Spec Ops." Shaw saw him shove a suitcase into Planck's chest and then storm off and turn on the television. "The one talking to him is Sarah Connor, General Connor's mother. The one standing next to the General is Cameron, currently second in command of Tech Com."
Shaw looked on at the changing images and video. One was at a dinner, some nice looking restaurant with a dress code; suit and tie and black evening dress. Her trained eye saw all the 'men' with shoulder holsters.
There was a snowball fight outside the opulent cabin. It was even larger than she had first thought. But the snowball fight was human versus machine. But the younger looking girl machine, Cameron, stayed by the young General's side and fought against the other three. She didn't have to watch to figure out which side would win that one.
Even the machines looked like they were enjoying themselves, even if they were a little stiff. With a different section of video they were on the ski slopes and she saw how Soto maneuvered her skis to cut off someone from coming in too close to The General in the middle.
She tried to keep herself from laughing at how ridiculous it was, but she felt if she tried any harder to contain it she'd end up spitting all over her visor. So she laughed and Carter did too, a little. She figured it was at her.
Shaw looked up at the mission clock. Her eyes went wide as she realized she'd been talking with Carter and watching these first person videos… memories, she suddenly realized, about skiing and the snow for nearly twenty minutes.
"So you all were sent back to do what… in 2007?"
"Us and many others," Carter answered. "It was a time war. There were dozens, hundreds of operatives from both sides being sent back. General Connor, from our original present needed more protection and training for his past self. And the war was lost. There wasn't a network to fight Skynet. The free machine faction emerged too late and with too few forces… the humans didn't trust us… to change the inevitable Skynet victory."
"You were sent back to help."
"Yes… to help."
"Earth seemed… a lot like the Colonies," she said. She felt her brow become heavier and she scowled as she remembered bits and pieces from her childhood. Carter might have showed her skiing but she'd have shown him the beach, if she could have. Her parents' villa on the Central Ocean wasn't as magnificent as that ski cabin, but it had been something else.
"It was, for the most part. Like any… planet, it had nice parts and bad." He jabbed his thumb back. "That's Los Angeles. Now it's one of Skynet's main hubs. We think its Skynet Central."
She felt a need to say something. "If we get to Earth, I'm sure the Admiral would be more than happy to drop a few rocks on it from orbit."
She nodded to herself. She assumed death, destruction, and annihilation would calm a terminator down.
"I'll… keep that in mind," he said warily.
She saw a shot of the city during the day, then again at night. The buildings looked marvelous. And without a doubt she deduced the red and white lights at a near standstill were cars in gridlock.
Grinning, she felt a slight ping of relief that even across the galaxy human civilization had certain constants about it. Even with FTL travel and space flight, automobile congestion was common in the big cities of the Colonies.
"Wow," she gasped. Caprica City was impressive, the largest in the Colonies, but Los Angeles was much more open, sprawling. "How many lived there?"
"In the city there were a little over four million and in the surrounding county close to nineteen million. But I was only active in the pre-Judgment Day era from 2007 to 2011. But in those four years, I saw enough," he said. "Anyway, you've seen the images of how the world looks now, or what we think it looks like now-"
"If we make it to Earth, when will we get there?" She held up her hand to keep him from responding before she could warn him. "And please don't tell me 'it's complicated.'"
He arched his eyebrows and looked over. For some reason he tilted his head and scratched the side of his helmet in what Shaw through was some sloppy attempt to imitate confusion.
"Okay… 'I don't know'…. will that work?"
The little grin she still had from seeing Los Angeles faded and her lips compressed and eyes narrowed.
"I take that as a 'no'… but truthfully, Captain, we don't know and the temporal-spatial displacement device is still classified." He gave her a long shrug, stopping his shoulder movement at the top then slowly bringing them back to neutral. "There are so many variables and questions not even the inventors fully understand time… I wish I could tell you."
Shaw closed her left eye and looked down and out towards the hatch. He sounded sincere, she wanted to believe him, but their vocalizer could make them sound however they wanted. And she didn't have enough faith to go on that alone.
She looked up to see if she could read his face or body language. She considered it might be a ploy, him sharing this information with her, but sometimes, she admitted, there wasn't always an ulterior motive. They did say they got 'bored' easily and enjoyed conversing.
"I'm done with the last calculations, Captain," Carter said.
Now it was back to business.
"Don't tell me." She pointed to Athena.
Shaw decided she was just going to sit back and let the skeptical part of her mind take a break for a little while. Even Admiral Cain had noticed how 'strung up' she'd been. Those had been Cain's words. At the time she'd dismissed them with a lazy mental eye roll and a sour frown.
Shaw knew if she didn't 'relax' then Admiral Cain would order her to Cloud 9 or onto Zephyr, the Z, for R&R. Or she might be forced to Everlasting Bliss. She knew that would be utterly, completely horrible.
With her thoughts to distract her she didn't notice Carter turning back to the ECO station or the countdown on the mission clock to jump. All she saw was a bright blue-white light.
"This is Crashdown. You all seeing the nebula?" he asked over the wireless.
They all saw the Lion's Head Nebula and the blinking light. This was the way to Earth.
"Radiological alarm!" Athena shouted. "Holy frak I'm picking up nukes all over the fraking place!"
"Athena, Crashdown," came an urgent call over the wireless. "You getting all of this?"
"Roger. Crash and Dash, hold positions," the bio-Cylon responded.
Captain Shaw had jumped up from her position and was now half way in the cockpit, her body construed at an odd angle with one hand on the cockpit door frame and another on Athena's seat. Carter had also disconnected the cord from the ECO console and was standing behind her.
"Athena… that's gotta be the Cylon fleet… who the frak… are they… attacking themselves?" Racetrack whispered. "DRADIS contact! They're a half light minute out. There's a Raider squadron accelerating in. Computer says contact… three minutes."
"We need to jump. Carter, is the FTL spooled?" Athena turned back to look at Carter and almost knocked her visor with Captain's Shaw's.
"Yes."
Captain Shaw had leaned forward until her visor was right next to Athena's. She squinted, but at that distance the ships wouldn't even be specks. But the light from the nuclear explosions, and the sheer amount of ordnance being expended was enough to put on a very impressive display.
A series of explosions in the center of what she assumed to be the battle could be nothing other than baseship explosions.
They needed intelligence.
"Negative. Lieutenant Agathon, get on the horn to the other Raptors. We need intelligence. Bring us in to twenty-five LS out so our cameras can get better snaps."
Athena looked at her wide eyed but shook her head and palmed the wireless transmit button.
"Crash, Dash- Athena. Move up to twenty-five light seconds and activate surveillance equipment. We're going to take some snaps and video of the battle then jump out. Reciprocal jump heading. We'll jump on my mark in one minute thirty." Athena informed them over the wireless.
"With all the jamming they're throwing up they'll need to close into gun range. We have time," Shaw calmly informed the others in the Raptor. She felt a brush against her as Carter moved by and reconnected into the ECO console.
The cameras were feeding information into the ECO station and stills were already showing up of the Cylon battle. There were dozens of ships, thousands of raiders, and multiple resurrection ships.
Shaw came back to the ECO console. "If we jump in Pegasus how far out will she be able to see the battle?"
Carter began accessing the data with his neural net CPU-ECO computer link. The navigational data and point extrapolations flashed across the screen until a different heading and carom position plot appeared on the screen.
He tapped the monitor. "At that position Pegasus would be nine light hours out. It would be the optimal angle with the least amount of background clutter to see the battle."
"Exactly. We jump Pegasus in there we can watch this whole fraking battle after the fact."
A/N:
The Ha'la'tha were from Caprica and the Guatrau was their 'don'.
Pegasus will be able to watch the battle after it's occurred since it's jumping nine light hours out. I wanted to include a little "hard science" like that in the story and thought this would be a good time to put it in there.
And yes, that is the Lion's Head Nebula where the probe was found. So the whole deal with the probe is going to be radically altered.
Part of the message the hybrid gives Natalie was inspired from the Bible, with some tweaks, so is the baseship's alphanumeric designation (it requires addition). Some of the message will be revealed in the next chapter and the message the hybrid gave to Natalie is what will be the focus of the rest of Part II (there will be a Part III).
Also, with the conversation between Shaw and Carter, Shaw is asking herself if Carter is being friendly for some ulterior purpose. She's being friendly to 'gather intelligence'. Whether she believes what she's telling herself is open to interpretation… (that's after she asks him if he misses Earth). I also wanted to point out that the 'pain' the terminators experience when jumping is only occurring when they jump in certain directions...
Anyway, please read and review and I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Thank you!