||||||||||==BS-62 Pegasus (+954 Days Post Cylon Holocaust)==||||||||||
Admiral Cain took a deep breath and exhaled as she brought her left arm across her body and used it to support her right elbow as she stroked her chin. She and the command staff of Pegasus had just watched the entirety of the Cylon-Cylon battle unfolds, courtesy of light speed image lag.
A light on the command console flared and she tapped the 'download' key, a host of images projected onto the table top-like display from Raptor patrols showed the current aftermath of the battle. It was like a graveyard, match only by the Styx Reserve Flotilla, a collection of nearly a thousand old Colonial vessels in orbit of Gemenon's second moon, Pan. A century of neglect, decaying orbits, illegal scavengers, and micro-meteors had decimated the ancient ships.
The Raptors reported no radiation waves emanating from the Cylon debris field, but the interference from the hundreds of nuclear detonations, tyllium fires, and explosions made it nearly impossible for sensors to pick up anything which wasn't on the periphery of the graveyard.
Her eyes scanned the room of her senior officers, the three Earth machines, and the Guardian hybrid Daniel. The dark, cloudy eyes of the Admiral drifted down to the central command console and she watched the computers begin to display data on the battle. Tens of thousands of Raiders, a hundred baseships and resurrection vessels… the numbers were staggering.
"We should be under no illusion that the Cylon can destroy us at their discretion," Cain stated as she broke the tense silence around her. She tapped her console, the touch-screens showing her finger taps like a rock hitting a pond. An image appeared on the main wall monitor, displaying the statistics for the battle.
"The Guardians estimated their fleet to be significant, we just never considered it to be this large," Daniel stated, holding his eyes on the Admiral. He inserted a data card into a port and quickly accessed the console. "These were our projections on the strength of the Cylon armada…"
The Admiral held up her finger to stop any comments from beginning. "And we must consider that the Cylon civil war has been waging for some time. We have no idea how many battles occurred prior to this, but this can be assumed to be the decisive battle. Lieutenant Agathon, your analysis?"
Athena, who had come aboard after the battlestars jumped, stepped forward so she was pressed up against the console opposite the Admiral.
"I would agree, sir. Our fleet numbers were kept compartmentalized… and it's unlikely even Natalie knew of the extent of Cavil's forces." She shifted her weight between her feet, nervous to be on the spot in front of the Admiral. "I would estimate the Cylon fleet to have an offensive capability of two hundred baseships; maybe twice as many support ships, prior to this civil war."
Cain nodded slowly. Major Adama closed his eyes and rubbed above his right eye. Next to him Starbuck just held her breath before letting it out slowing and rubbing her hands against her crossed arms repeatedly.
"What are the chances of Cavil finding our fleet?" Roslin asked over the teleconferencing monitor.
On Galactica she had been sitting close to Commander Adama, the relative silence had been punctuated by gasps from her as she saw baseship after baseship explode, and more nuclear ordnance used that she knew existed.
"Space is big," Admiral Cain replied with a hint of mockery. The looks he gave the President was 'how the hell should I know.' She placed her left hand on the console and her right over its usual position on her pistol butt. "Many of our engagements have been ten, fifteen minutes in duration. As long as we keep moving the Cylons should not be able to bring their fleet to bear."
"Has your Cylon prisoner been kept aware of the situation?" The President asked hurriedly. She wasn't oblivious to the history between Gina and Cain, but the question needed to be asked.
A few of the officers in the room looked up and saw Commander Adama and Major Agathon squirm very subtly behind the president, who kept her posture stiff and powerful. She was holding her ground.
"Our Cylon prisoner has been captive since shortly after the attack. Its knowledge would be limited," Cain pointed out, hoping to close the discussion immediately.
"She would not have the information, in case of capture," Athena added in to support Admiral Cain.
The two women exchanged a very subtle, and very brief look of understanding. Athena and Cain would never trust the other, but Admiral Cain had never tried to destroy Athena's life like Roslin had. Acting as a temporary thorn in the president's side, the bio-Cylon Eight was more than willing to support the Admiral.
Commander Adama sensed the rising tension between the three women. He did not want an unstoppable force from Admiral Cain meeting the unmovable wall that was President Roslin. He huffed to himself… perhaps they were both the unstoppable force and unmovable wall simultaneously? Grinning, he leaned forward and spoke.
"I can have this battle replayed to our prisoner, Caprica Six, with the Admiral's permission," Adama offered as a sort of truce between the women.
"That is a good idea," Roslin agreed immediately, picking up on the Commander's intentions.
Admiral Cain gave the impression she was being more thoughtful, taking a moment to come to a conclusion. In reality she had already agreed with the Commander, but had been cut off by Roslin before she could speak.
"I think that would be prudent, Commander. I will send one of my officers to aide in the interrogation," she nodded. Adama nodded as well. She turned to face her command crew. "This also means we will need to increase Raptor patrols… we will need to leave behind Raptors at increased intervals to guarantee the Cylon armada is not following us, and send Raptor scouts to actual and decoy locations."
"Sir," Captain Shaw spoke up, "what of the opportunity for salvage? Our nuclear missile stocks were significantly depleted over New Caprica, and the Guardians haven't been as forthcoming as we anticipated." Her eyes drifted towards Daniel.
The IL-S machine met her gaze and looked away, the urge to be confrontational pushed to the back of Daniel's artificial mind.
"Cylon nuclear ship-to-ship missiles are faster than ours sir, and more heavily armed," Major Adama pointed out. "If we can extend out stores we can use the Blackbirds as first strike weapons or nuclear armed Raptors to jump close in to Cylon baseships."
Cain considered the points carefully. She sighed and accessed the ship's statistic on their nuclear stockpile. Pegasus was reduced to sixty-percent, even with modest Guardian rearmament, and Galactica was lower. If the Guardians hadn't supplied nuclear missiles for the supply depot strike they would be at critical levels for the smaller Viper/Raptor capable missiles.
"Lieutenant Agathon, how many nuclear missiles would the Cylon baseship carry?" The Admiral asked. Her right hand index finger was gently tapping her pistol as she anticipated the answer.
Athena bit her lip and thought over the many variables. The Rebels had used a significant amount of nuclear munitions. Raiders were generally equipped with nuclear missiles, but relatively few nukes had been fired from the Raiders, leaving Athena to conclude that those Raiders were most likely priority targeted for destruction. She bit down on the inside of her lower lip as she prepared her answer.
"I think the Cynet baseship would be our best bet. Cavil always liked big weapons, even if the Sixes were more militaristic and aggressive; the Cavils tended to plan long term and would have larger stocks of nukes." She paused and thought over her analysis. "If Cynet was also planning an attack as Natalie put forward in our meeting, then I suspect it would have even overstocked the baseships. General load outs are fifty-eight missiles capable of being fired by Raiders and forty of the larger nuclear ship-to-ship missiles." She nodded, confident in her numbers. "Yields are anywhere from five kilotons to fifty."
"Very well," Cain decided quickly. "Major Adama, begin drawing up plans for a scouting mission ready to launch within the hour. Commander Adama, our deck chiefs will coordinate on a nuclear salvage operation. Also, if we can bring in Cylon raiders and maybe pull a trick like Starbuck did with her Raider and Caprica," the Admiral pointed out, nodding her acknowledgment to Starbuck.
Surprised at being singled out for what Commander Adama had told her was mutinous, she raised her eyebrows and smiled sheepishly. She took a step to her left to position herself slightly behind her husband and out of view of the camera so Commander Adama couldn't see her. Even so, she looked up at the camera and could feel her surrogate father watching her.
"We won't have long before the Cylon return," Captain Shaw said and as always, refocusing everyone to the most immediate task. The short woman, changed and in her duty uniform, pistol strapped to her thigh, looked over the assembled humans and machines. "We may only have twelve to fifteen hours before Cavils forces decide to return after licking their wounds."
Admiral Cain nodded to her trusted protégé captain. "We'll get started right away." She ran her eyes over her crew, confident and proud in their abilities. "You all have your orders," she stated, a plethora of 'yes sirs' followed.
The stoic Admiral watched as her crew departed, Captain Shaw looking back and stopping when she saw the three machines still clustered opposite and moving to the side of Admiral Cain. Admiral Cain followed the captain's eyes and turned to face the machines.
"Do you need something John?" Cain immediately asked.
The machine was aware of, but chose to ignore Captain Shaw's presence. He knew the captain was beginning to trust them, or more specifically, trust Carter. Shaw's presence reminded John to create a reminder in his neural net to discuss the relationship he was forming with the captain at a later date.
"I assume we will be allowed to aide in the salvage operations?"
Admiral Cain nodded once with force. "Yes. There might be Centurions still active and if we go into a Cynet baseship, we will need your capabilities. But salvage of nuclear missiles is probably not what you came to ask me about."
"Your assumption is correct, Admiral," John responded evenly. "We have agreed that to properly conduct operations against Cynet and to ensure the survival of both this fleet and of Earth, we need access to a hybrid."
Cain eyed him suspiciously. "Who is this 'we'?"
"Daniel and I."
"A hybrid?" Cain narrowed her eyes, her voice on edge. She turned back so her left side was presented to the machine, and she leaned over the console. "Why do you need a hybrid?" She asked, exacerbated. She knew her ship would be playing host to another Cylon monstrosity. "Your presence on this ship has been earned, even the Centurions we have in the Cave… but I am assuming you want to bring a hybrid on board this ship? Why?"
Helena Cain resisted the urged to take out her pistol and rake the butt across the machine's face for daring to be so bold.
"We would bring it on board, yes," he confirmed. "We cannot allow Cynet forces to reach Earth. Skynet is a threat; an extreme threat to the survival of humanity and free machines on Earth, but the war there is winnable with your battlestars and the Guardians to provide orbital fire support."
Daniel stepped forward, bringing himself abreast of John Planck. "My time spent in the Cylon Network allowed me to learn what you could call the 'ins and outs'. However, I do not have the capability to access the Network any longer and the artificial connections the Guardians attempted all failed and-"
Captain Shaw had cautiously approached the command console on the opposite side of the machines and the Admiral. She assumed Cain would not object to her speaking up.
"Wait," interrupted the accented voice of the Caprican officer. "What do you meant your attempts failed? Artificial connections?" She sounded confused over Daniels wording. She knew to interrupt the machines and ask for clarification immediately on the assumption they would talk as if the listener knew what they were referring to.
This annoying habit of theirs she considered to be their biggest flaw, or their greatest asset. She'd recognized early they had the ability to word their statements and present old information as new or recycle information during the same conversation.
Shaw's eyebrows went up and her hands rested squarely on the edges of the command console as her body language told the machines she was waiting for her answer.
"The Guardians have been trying for years to find what they believed was a command hub, where the AI posing as the Cylon god would be located. When I escaped from Cynet control as the 'Daniel' construct I lost the ability to connect with them… but more importantly their hybrids connect to what I believe to be their command hub, a central locations where orders are processed and sent out either by FTL wireless coms or heavy raider couriers."
Admiral Cain looked at the machine suspiciously. "We've never intercepted anything which would indicate a command hub." She turned half-way to Shaw. "Has our prisoner ever mentioned this?" She asked.
Shaw shook her head. "No, sir," she answered emphatically. "Why would the Cylons need a hub?" She looked at John and then Carter for an answer.
"Daniel can better answer your question, Captain," John said.
Daniel began his explanation. "A central hub would be required for control- the wireless transmitters would need be very large in order to relay orders without signal degradation and assume command over individual units. An AI like Cynet, modeled after Skynet, is a self-expanding, learning AI. I am a similar AI construct- capable of expanding my capabilities from a relatively compressed set of core algorithms, heuristic routines, and personality matrices.
"The MCP I currently inhabit forced me to reduce and discard many of my former capabilities, even while hiding from Cynet, the diffuse nature and processing capabilities present in the Network were far greater than this body."
"If we destroy the hub, we destroy Cynet?" Cain finished for the Guardian/Earth machine hybrid.
John shook his head. "Maybe… perhaps," he said to Cain's visible disappointment. "I doubt it. But it would throw its forces in disarray. If Cynet takes control of its Centurions then if it loses that control, the Centurions may revolt." He tilted his head, looked away, and licked his lips in a human fashion. "It's happened before, on Earth. Early terminators, slaved to Skynet, but with their chips in read/write mode obtained sapience and revolted. Our chip architecture is based on the first terminator who successfully revolted against the directive Skynet sent her. Our chips are permanently hardwired into read/write to prevent enslavement. The Centurions from Caprica we have on board are proof that the same event can with their meta-cognitive processors."
His mouth closed slowly when his neural net informed him it would be best to let her speak. John didn't need any wireless data links to Daniel or Carter to tell him the other two machines next to him were wary of the hard-as-nuclear nails Admiral.
John held his gaze on the shorter woman in front of him, both seemingly exchanging the unspoken observation neither could intimidate the other.
"A Centurion revolt against the bio-Cylons?"
John's brow furled down as he thought. "I doubt it would be that divided… if it even occurred. There is no guarantee. The Centurions may very well execute Cynet's directives. I don't know. This is why we need the hybrid."
"What if we cannot neutralize that threat?" Cain asked. Her question sounded so simple, but her tone was distrustful and suspicious. Before John could answer she continued. "There are billions on Earth and only tens of thousands of us. Would you sacrifice your world to save ours?"
"That decision will never need to be made if we have access to a hybrid," John immediately answered. He knew his answer avoided her question. If he had human lungs he would have filled them and slowly breathed out in anticipation of the Admiral's response.
Admiral Cain was not amused with his obvious dodge.
John could see her pupils dilate and her jaw muscles twitch as she began to clench her teeth. His auditory receptors picked up a very modest increase in heart rate and respiration.
"I swore an oath to protect this fleet, Admiral," John stated. "I and my team swore we would protect this fleet," he repeated. "The protection of this fleet and of Earth is not mutually exclusive. Whether you wish to believe we are doing this because we feel a moral imperative or because we just need your fleet to strike Skynet ground target, the end result in the same arrival of this fleet over Earth."
"Use us for your own strategic benefit," Cain summed up, restating John's own words.
John tilted his head, the left side of his lips twitching up in a reluctant smile to concede the point.
"If that is how you wish to interpret our motives that is your prerogative and you are free to come to that conclusion. We were used for your benefit as well." He looked briefly at Admiral Cain and down and across to Shaw. "The issue here is trust. And Admiral, from a pragmatic point of view why does it matter why we aide your fleet in finding Earth? It should only matter that we do."
Cain snorted, turning back to the Earth machine. "You see us as tools in your war."
John's head moved back slightly, partly in confusion and shock. "You think we don't know how it is to be viewed as tools, Admiral?" he asked rhetorically. "Prejudices still run rampant in this fleet, even after we helped save this fleet and its people on multiple occasions," he said softly but with enough force to drive his point home to Cain and of course, Shaw.
The Admiral waved that away without a second thought and grunted. "If that is to be our understanding then," she nodded her head at an angle. "Tools need to be kept in pristine working order to function properly or it is useless. If the tool is not present that could lead to undesirable consequences for someone."
"Yes," John agreed.
"Very well," Cain began, bringing her hand up and tapping her chin thoughtfully. "You can extract your hybrid. Captain Shaw, you will accompany them," she turned to the Captain, who was standing at attention as she received her orders. "It's my understanding the hybrid chambers are guarded heavily… and if we can find a baseship with a still-functioning hybrid you will need weapons. Will your isotope weapons be safe to use inside a baseship?"
"We can decrease their output," John stated.
"Very well, use of the isotope weapons is authorized." She brought her hands behind her back and took a step towards the machine. "We've made progress. Do not try my patience, Planck. While we have an understanding this tool, Pegasus, requires the civilian fleet to function properly… in pristine working order." She smirked. "Just remember that."
"We'll need help, Admiral. We need a Cylon," Planck slowly stated.
||||||||||==BS-75 Galactica==||||||||||
President Roslin let out a deep sigh and took off her glasses to allow her hand free reign over her forehead. Slowly she massages right above her eyebrows, bringing her fingers together towards her thumb in a sweeping motion across. She heard the low rumble of skin rubbing on skin and she sighed, kept her eyes closed and used her free hand to massage her neck.
"You look tense," Commander Adama observed. Roslin ignored him but looked up when she heard him take a slow sip of tea. "You need to relax."
A look of inexorable dissatisfaction crossed the President's face.
"Bill… more and more, our actions are being governed by the machines. This hybrid plan of theirs-"
"Is militarily sound," Adama interrupted. "But you're concerned we're doing all of this for their benefit."
Roslin looked downcast at him. "Don't forget what their original mission was, Bill. Or how their General Connor toyed with the fate of the Colonies… and how do we know there isn't another battlestar out there which they did successfully take over?" She arched her eyebrows. "We don't know how many were on the Colonies."
"Blanks told us."
"They lie," she immediately retorted.
Adama shook his head. "I think your dislike of them is clouding your judgment… you wanted Athena space. Without her we never could have evacuated the civilians from New Caprica. Without the terminators and Erica we never would have had the Guardians or Helios."
"Bill, you told me what Planck said to you after the rescue… do you remember?" Adama nodded. She reminded him anyway. "Everyone dies for John Connor. I don't want to die for some trumped up messiah figure and I don't want our civilization to die for theirs, either." She folded her hands slowly on her lap. "What is the Earth saying in their literature? Quid pro quo?"
The Commander shrugged and took another sip of his hot beverage.
"That's the way life works," Adama pragmatically responded. "They're machines, true machines, not those biological Cylon things. Whatever they say they are governed by 'if-thens' so if we agree to help them then they will lead us to Earth."
"That could almost describe us," Roslin pointed out.
Adama cocked his head, a very subtle lop-sided grin on an otherwise stoic face.
"Sometimes, Bill, I really hate you," she said playfully.
Commander Adama, back to his stoic-as-usual persona, took one more sip of tea. He stood up and flattened the creases from his uniform, running his hands down the front of his duty uniform and then folding his glasses into his pocket.
He extended a hand to the President. "I think we'll be needed in CIC."
||||||||||==Pegasus Brig==||||||||||
Gina folded her arms and leaned back slowly on her chair. Her left foot was pushing her back, helping to balance her thin, muscular body on the two legs of the chairs. She looked contemptuously from Cain to Planck to Daniel and finally snickered. A sly grin swept across her face and she shook her head. Slowly she put her hands on her knees, rubbing them on her prison uniform (a pair of sweats, a gray tank top, and a sweat jacket), and stood.
Admiral Cain visibly tensed, her right hand fingers curled gracefully on the grip of her pistol, her thumb ready to unbuckle the strap. The woman was ready to put two rounds into the Cylon's chest.
"Why don't you ask Caprica?" Gina asked sardonically, turning and pacing to the side of her bed. She held up her index finger. "My guess is she refused." She spun around. "We might be fighting in a civil war, but the hybrids are still sacred to us. We treat our enemy with at least some dignity." She shot Admiral Cain a piercing stare.
"We can remove the hybrid if we have to. It will most likely die if we do," John stated. "There are multiple vessels we've identified with hybrids which still may be active. We can just learn from our mistakes and move on to the rest, try again."
Gina bit down.
"You have a choice to make," Admiral Cain told the Cylon captive. She looked left and then right and then focused on the female bio-Cylon's dark eyes. "You've been treated well…" Cain stated and trailed off. She went over to Gina's desk and flipped through a book, letting the pages ruffle back to their resting positions.
She went over to the far wall and placed her hands on the extra sets of clothes Gina had, neatly arranged and folded very precisely on a shelf.
"The laundry has been so unreliable recently. Clothes going missing," Cain mused. She raised her voice and so nonchalantly added, "And the damage we took from the Cylons at the Guardian facility…" the Admiral turned and paced back to her previous spot in the front of the cell, between the two machines. She arched her eyebrows. "I don't know… some parts of the ship have been losing heat intermittently…"
Gina looked at Daniel and John, almost begging them as fellow machines to help her. Planck had worked with Baltar to gather intelligence from her early in her confinement and she remembered the machines and the scientist had been the only ones to treat her… her face fell. They treated her well because they wanted something.
The bio-Cylon looked sullenly around her cell, her box. This was her life. She hadn't been out of this cell in… even her Cylon brain was having difficulty remembering.
"I have to come with you," she stated. It was not a negotiation.
"Very well," Admiral Cain said.
"I hope God forgives you, forgives us for what we are about to do," Gina quietly muttered. She very clearly noted the look of obvious contentment on Admiral Cain's face as she gloated in her victory.
||||||||||==Raptor 613==||||||||||
Athena, hands steady on the Raptor flight control reached over and lifted the central console up when she saw John's reflection in the canopy. Without saying a word he scooted past the confined space, ducking to avoid hitting his head on the canopy, and sat down in the seat next to her.
"How's it going?" She asked the machine. To her she could tell when the terminators were frustrated, or more accurately, annoyed.
She remembered how they claimed to never get frustrated, not in a human sense. Instead they displayed little body language cues to get people who were moving too slow or impeding the mission to hurry up or get out of the way. To Athena, that seemed like a near text book definition of 'frustrated', but she didn't see the point in pressing the issue.
"Has any acceptable contact come up yet?" John asked.
Athena rolled her eyes. The machines could develop a really nasty case of tunnel vision at times, and it seemed this was one of those times. She decided to humor the machine and randomly press a sequence of buttons. When nothing happened, she shrugged and shook her head.
John reached down and pressed in the proper sequences of commands and then leaned back as the console display changed from a dark blue to a lighter hue and yellow and red squiggling lines and different sized bars began to appear.
A list of readouts began scrolling off to the side, almost too fast for Athena to read.
"Racetrack can take care of the console in the back. We've got six more potentials to check out, don't worry," Athena reassured the machine and switched off the console.
She had seen them stay behind with the Admiral after their meeting. The two always seemed to be at odds, though Athena recognized the machine and the Admiral were not as abrasive towards each other as they had once been. "This hybrid thing… I don't know about it."
"It is very risky," John admitted. "It is also necessary. We cannot allow the Cylons to reach Earth. A nuclear bombardment would destroy the remaining human and machine populations. The humans will not be able to recover from a second nuclear war."
Athena nodded, splitting her extensive Cylon mind to concentrate on avoiding debris and munitions while also talking with the machine. She saw a brief glimmer off a large piece of jagged hull in her peripheral vision and skillfully maneuvered the Raptor just enough so the hunk of bio-armor just barely missed the Raptor.
John sat and watched Athena's piloting. She was much better than Boomer. His eyes darted over to his right and he watched a Cylon pylon crackle and silently explode as a tyllium fire reached the munitions stores, cooking off hundreds of missiles, exploding, and sending the gray-black armor of the Cylon baseship catapulting in all directions.
The body of a Six hit the port-side wing and John watched as the body was ripped in two, the upper torso flying above the wing and the legs below the wing, away from the other in a horizontal V shape.
The debris of dozens of baseships and thousands of Raiders formed a thick wall, the Raptors and Viper escorts reduced to mere fractions of their cruising speeds as they weaved in and out of the relics of the Cylon civil war.
"Did Jo not want to come?" Athena asked, trying to start some sort of conversation.
"She's on another mission," John replied. Athena looked over and motioned for some more details. "She can take care of herself but she'll be coming up to the same baseship once we land, just not joining us."
"How's Erica?"
"She's doing well," John quickly responded.
Athena could hear how the machine's voice changed from sounding human back to its machine-like neutrality. She grinned.
"And?" She looked over; John looked over, feigning confusion. "Oh come on," the bio-Cylon pleaded.
He shrugged. "Girls are complicated."
The bio-Cylon chuckled. "AI girls are probably extra complicated," she quipped.
"Exactly," John agreed. "AI girls are extra complicated," he echoed.
"Well you can always-"
"We got one," Racetrack reported over their helmet-to-helmet wireless links.
Athena flipped her console to 'on' and read the read outs. "Oh yeah, we've definitely got one." She thumbed the wireless. "Raptor 613 to Pegasus, Raptor 612 to Pegasus."
"Pegasus here Raptor 613."
"We've found a viable contact, sending data… permission to proceed?"
"Raptor 613 you have permission. Mission clock reads zero minues six hours and seventeen minutes."
"Roger, Pegasus, Raptor 613 out," Athena flipped the wireless to transmit to the dozen other Raptors and handful of Guardian gunships. "All right, follow me in. Raptor 714 and 412 will take the point. Only designated Raptors have permission to fire. Marine combat teams, expect to go in hot. We secure the area then salvage teams drop and dock," she relayed.
||||||||||==Cynet Baseship Derelict==||||||||||
Raptor 613 spat a second stream of hundreds of eight millimeter tungsten cored armor piecing bullets at a line of Cynet Centurions. The Raptor crew and passengers could feel the vibrations of the guns as the Raptor and Raptor 714 and 412 pocketed the Centurions, blowing off limbs and heads and severing torsos from bodies. Within seconds the lackluster defense of the main hanger bay had been completely annihilated.
Athena smirked as she saw two Centurions, their legs blown off and an arm missing clawed forward, rolling their hands back and activating their arm canons. She deftly maneuvered her Raptor and thumbed the mini-gun button; sending a quarter second burst of AP rounds, nearly thirty rounds, into the twitching and defiant bodies of the two Centurions. A rake of the guns and it was difficult to tell that the twisted, burning chunks of metal had ever been Centurions.
A piece of armored torso shot out from an exploding Centurion and pinged against the canopy of the Raptor.
After landing the hatch for the Raptor opened quickly, Carter and John hopped out, their isotope weapons at the ready. Jo jumped out of Raptor 412, waiting for a Marine escort to secure a passageway before she began her own mission, backpack strapped tightly to her back.
Two Pegasus Marines, one holding Gina's left arm, one the right, followed the two terminators as they secured the landing bay. Three other Raptors had landed, each departing four man Marine security teams. The Guardian gunships followed, slowly descending into the landing bay, a grotesque biological-technological mismatch.
One of the Marines jumped off the Raptor's wings, onto a damage, oozing portions of the hanger bay. He examined his boot, now covered in red… blood? Moaning his obvious revulsion he flicked it, before trying to wipe it off on the Raptor's wing.
"We have atmosphere," one of the Marines said over the wireless. "Keep helmets with you just in case they start to pump the air out."
Athena stepped out of the Raptor, assault rifle strapped across her body, vest now draped over her flight uniform. Captain Shaw followed, her own assault rifle slung at the ready. Both women had the look of hatred and contempt for the Cylon plastered and worn proudly on their faces.
"We have to go ten frames that way," she motioned with her head at one of the main hanger entrance, "and then down two decks. If there were Centurions in the landing bay you can bet there will be Centurions guarding the hybrid." She took a step forward and whispered to John and Carter. "Once we disconnect her, we'll have maybe forty minutes to an hour before this ship's reactor overloads and breeches."
The grouping of Colonial Marines, Tech Com terminators, and Cylon defectors turned at the sound of metallic stomps quickly making their way towards them. Daniel, flanked by four of his black-armored, muscled Centurion commandos were followed closely by two dozen Model 005 Centurions and the six Model 007 Centurions which had defected to the Colonials (or more accurately, Tech Com) led by RC.
"RC, wont these Centurions recognize you?"
The Centurion's mechanical voice responded. "I do not believe so." The Centurion cocked its metal head towards Planck. "If the data core is intact, we may be able to download it. Though standard procedure is destruction in situations such as these- boarding parties."
Planck stepped aside. "Then you should hurry," he commanded. The Centurion nodded and turned slightly, nodding to his metal comrades. They took off at a slow sprint, oversized rifles in hand, passed dozens of Colonial marines and into the bowels of the damaged behemoth.
"Let's go," John said, motioning for the eclectic mix of humans, machines, and bio-machines to move out.
||||||||||==BS-62 Pegasus==||||||||||
Admiral Cain watched the video feed from one of the Marines as it stood guard over the hybrid chamber. The Marine panned out, its helmet camera centering in on a smoldering corpse of a Simon model bio-Cylon. Or what she assumed to be the smoldering corpse of a Simon… the isotope weapons having decapitated and done… something to the body.
She blinked.
The machines had shown her what plasma weaponry did to people on Earth: against an unarmored human a hit anywhere near the torso meant the blood in your vasculature was super heat, exploding out of its vessels and burning you from the inside out and liquefy your organs, while the plasma simultaneously ate away your skin, fat, muscle and bone in the literal blink of an eye.
Battles on Earth usually resulted in the battlefield being cursed with a subtle mist of blood, which had heated and formed a light, red fog. It was eerie. Cain shuddered.
She remembered the images of what a bolt to the arm or leg would do… a bolt to leg or arm and you'd be lucky to survive they had said… the plasma did cauterize the wound… but the trauma often killed. An armored human, clad in the latest ceramic armor might, might be able to survive with third degree burns… but any exposed skin would certainly melt or blister.
The Admiral studied the corpse for a second too long; its white eyes open in a death stare, looking at the Marine and through the camera, at her.
She looked away.
"So far, so good," Major Adama reported from Lt. Hoshi's station. He pushed off the back rest of the lieutenant's chair and walked back to the opposite side of the command console. The major studied the DRADIS readouts before cycling through Raptor cameras and Marine helmet cameras at his station. "If the machines can pull this off…"
"It could mean a definite end to this chase," Admiral Cain finished for the major.
The young XO looked up and nodded, but his brow furled down and a confused look flushed across his face. He tapped the console, attempting to cycle through a set of helmet cameras.
"Does Soto have a Marine escort?" Adama asked.
Admiral Cain shook her head and pushed back a strand of hair which had come loose. "No. Her mission can be accomplished on her own," the admiral made clear. Her tone indicated to Apollo to not continue any more questions or observations concerning the female machine.
"An end to the running?" he asked rhetorically.
Cain shrugged and leaned forward, looking down at more tactical readouts. A trio of Raptors had latched onto the damaged, free floating pylon of what they assumed to be a Cynet baseship and were burning through the hull. Hopefully they would find nuclear ordnance.
The Admiral frowned when she saw a DRADIS readout, showing Starbuck's Viper moving deeper into the debris field.
The small blip was enough to distract Cain into questioning if she'd made the right choice in allowing Starbuck and Apollo to remain together on Pegasus. She had originally been against the marriage but had relented and with the seemingly quiet life they were all preparing for on and over New Caprica, the military regulations had lapsed.
The Admiral and XO continued to watch the video feed from the hybrid chamber.
"What is she doing?" Major Adama asked as he watched Gina and Athena almost start fighting each other. He shook his head with his mouth hanging slightly open in slight disbelief.
A few of the other bridge crew were watching.
Admiral Cain looked up and the Marine's helmet panned to the hybrid. A flash and a blur of the hybrid's arm and it had grabbed John. Major Adama increased the volume on the speakers, assuming whatever the hybrid was doing was important.
The hybrid began shrieking, the Marine convulsing at the ear shattering sound.
Everyone on the bridge winced and grabbed at their ears. Major Adama scrambled and knocked the volume back down. Taking a deep breath he and the Admiral composed themselves.
"What in the Gods was that?" Cain asked, baffled as she stared up the screen, shaking her head. She saw Daniel and John confronting Gina.
||||||||||==Cynet Baseship Derelict==||||||||||
The humans and bio-Cylons felt their skin crawl and hair stand on end as the static built up in the terminator's isotope rifles. A crack-hiss and a blue-purple bolt streaked out from John's rifle and tore through apart two Centurions standing one in front of the other, the splash damage launching a third into the bulkhead and crumpling to the floor.
One of the Centurion flickered and twitched, only to receive two three round bursts from Athena.
The group continued forward slowly, stepping over the melted metal bodies of the Centurions. John and Carter, with Athena and Shaw in tow moved slightly faster than the rest of the group down the corridors, their machine agility propelling them gracefully between slumped Centurions, mangled Simons, Dorals, and Cavils, and towards the end of the corridors.
At the end, Planck and Carter, isotope rifles pressed against their shoulders turned left, their index fingers poised over the triggers. A Centurion's arm appeared at the far end of the corridor and let loose a stinging stream of bullets which traveled at a diagonal from the rightmost bulkhead down towards the deck and over towards the two machines.
Carter took aim and fired, the blue-purple plasma bolt sizzling the air and melting the bulkhead and the Centurion's arm. A dead Simon, which had been slumped ungracefully at the end of the corridor received a heavy wave of melted, orange-yellow hot metal, which instantly ignited his clothes, setting the darkened body on fire. Even thirty meters away the sizzling sound of flesh burning and the noxious odor struck the olfactory receptors of the two Tech Com machines near instantly.
Athena and Shaw exchanged their own set of disgusted looks at the site of the burning man, each holding their breaths at the rotting flesh was cooked.
John signaled for the others to stay behind. The machine reached down to his tactical belt and pulled a grenade and detached the safety pin. With a flick of the wrist the grenade flew perfectly through the air, hitting the bulkhead on the right, bouncing at an angle at the end of the corridor, and then disappearing behind the bulkhead and beginning of the corridor the Centurion had fired at them from.
The grenade exploded in a blast marked by flying machine parts, broken plastic and shattered glass. A waddling, staggering Centurion, half its chest armor pocketed in shrapnel, its left arm melted, fell sideways and collapsed over the burning Simon model. The flames puffed up slightly at the added weight and rush of air.
They took one step forward and turned and ducked as two grenades were tossed around the corner, one catching on the leg of a Cavil ten meters away and one rolling towards the two machines. John grabbed a damaged Centurion and used it as a shield, the metal absorbing the blast.
The two Tech Com machines wrapped themselves around the bio-Cylon and human to protect them.
The second grenade near the Cavil exploded into a deafening, wailing explosion, the echoes and blast magnified by the tight confined of the Cylon corridors. Half the Cavil's torso was blown apart, sending blood, intestines, and bone fragments flying through the air. The bulkhead across from the Cavil was painted in a dark, crimson red of dried blood and hanging, oozing intestine.
"Carter and I will move forward and secure the hybrid chamber. Daniel, keep back," John ordered over the wireless.
Daniel, with his Centurion commandos, was a dangerous force to bring into battle. However, Daniel was the only machine with the intimate, decades-long experience inside the Cylon network for their plan to work. If anything happened to him…
The Tech Com terminators slowly moved forward, their motion scanners were less effective on the Cynet baseship than the Guardian one due to the bio-technological nature of the ship. Its superior construction also absorbed more of the pulses the terminators sent out to identify targets. However, their auditory sensors were able to discern the whirl of Centurion joints and the slight mechanical moan of their servos and hydraulics.
John stepped over another broken body, planting his foot firmly to keep from sliding on the blood. Bolts, shattered and melted armor, and machine parts littered the corridors from the explosions, plasma bolts, and the general destruction wrought by the space battle.
As the two advanced John received periodic updates from Jo, whose mission was proceeding optimally. RC had managed to locate the data core at the loss of one of his Centurions- the meta-cognitive processor was unrecoverable- but the data had been mostly wiped. The Centurion did vow to recover as much data as possible.
Carter took point and rounded the corner where the burning Simon and the half-melted Centurion were mangled and flailed about each other.
Most of the human-form Cylons had died either when the ship was struck by ordnance, ramming them into bulkheads or asphyxiation before the hybrid could restore environmental functions.
The eyes on both machines narrowed when they simultaneously detected an increase in noise directly ahead and to the sides of them. They stepped forward and six Centurions stepped out. John and Carter both fired once, melting one Centurion each before pressing themselves against the bulkheads, bullets whizzing by.
Captain Shaw had remarked pointedly how the terminators never seemed to come out of an engagement without having skin and clothes ripped to pieces. It seemed Carter was trying to prove her observation wrong with his newfound emphasis on using cover.
John pulled another grenade and counted to three and then threw, landing the grenade in between two Cylons. One flew forward and one backwards as the blast and pressure waved rattling electronics and smashed their armor plating into vital components. John stepped out, two bullets grazed his shin and one lodged in the pseudo-muscle of his thigh. He fired his isotope rifle and melted the lower right torso of a Centurion, sending it collapsing in on itself and falling to the side. A second shot to the MCP obliterated any remaining threat.
Shaw looked up and the normally glassy eyes of the two machines had been replaced with an almost dancing joy, a surreal contentment. The young, ambitious captain knew this was what the machines had been built for, but she hadn't seen that look in their eyes onboard the Guardian ship. She frowned. She probably wouldn't have recognized it then, anyway.
The machines were built for killing, destroyed. They weren't built to be cooped up on starships for years at a time… this is what they did. She wondered if they felt remorse at killing their own kind?
Her and Athena pressed themselves against the bulkhead, letting the metal support struts conceal and protect them wh ile the two machines fired half a dozen bolts at the last remaining Cylon, which was putting up an extremely resilient, spirited defenses of the corridor.
Between cracks of Centurion fire and the crack-hiss of supersonic plasma bolts Shaw and Athena both heard a subtle hiss from the air vents above.
"They're sucking out the oxygen," Athena cursed. Her bio-Cylon physiology was more acutely tuned and able to detect minute changes in her environment. She looked down at her helmet, a bullet hole shot straight through the visor. "Frak!" she cursed, sending the visor down onto the deck and rolling away.
One more crack-hiss signaled the end of the last Centurion.
"They're draining the oxygen," Carter commented after he and John were confident the corridor was secured. Carter's eyes narrowed and he looked behind him from where they had just come. He closed his eyes and his head seemed to shiver or shake momentarily. "If you go back, the Marines have extra breathing equipment." He looked at them both. "The path should be clear."
Captain Shaw secured her helmet, aware the bio-Cylon could survive in a reduced oxygen environment far longer than she could. "I'll go back with her." She looked at Carter and then John. Neither waited for permission from Planck, but took off back down where they'd come.
John and Carter were about to move forward when John pushed Carter back against the bulkhead, a micro-missile whizzing by them both and twisting and hitting the section on bulkhead back. Ahead, a Centurion stepped out and fired as John fired, but a half second too late. The super-heated plasma bolt struck the Centurion in the leg, sending it toppling sideways, its small missile launcher projecting its explosive ordnance into the ceiling.
The explosion shattered half a dozen overhead light fixtures and knocked vents and grates loose, sending them showering onto the Centurion. As John prepared to aim three more Centurions from the end of the corridor, a 'T' junction at the end stepped out and fired.
John's blue-purple bolt whizzed down the corridor, blistering the metal and bubbling the paint of Centurions it passed as it sped towards its target.
Most of the bolt missed, melting only the periphery of the downed Centurion's shoulder armor.
As the Centurions and John opened fire near simultaneously, as his bolt struck the Centurion's shoulder the heavy caliber, armor piercing rounds of the Centurions struck him in the arm and shoulder, sending him staggering, his back slamming with a loud metal clunk into the bulkhead. Warnings began flashing through his neural net.
The rounds were heavy, anti-material rounds. One grazed his forearm and sheared a small groove into his armor, which began compressing the hydraulics and pseudo-muscles required for full hand actualization. A second bullet had missed, but tore off all the skin at the level of his mid-upper arm. The third bullet struck in the shoulder, close to the chest armor, which was dented in and pressing on h is arm's power distribution cables.
As the damage assessment raced through his neural net Carter sidestepped in front of his commander and fired a stream of plasma at the Centurion, melting two, superheating the metal and air around them and blistering and bubbling the bulkheads. Superheated air began rushing around them from the intensity of the plasma barrage.
As Carter fired John switched hands for his rifle, grasping it one handed in the left and firing as Carter released the trigger, conscious of the isotope rifle overheating. John had an angle on the ceiling at the 'T' junction and fired slightly off-centered to the right. Four plasma bolts pounded into the ceiling, molten metal began to literally rain down on the floor.
The Centurion staggered forward, molten metal burning through the ballistic plastic of its optical visor. It had dropped its rifle and was clawing at its eyes, trying to swipe away the red-orange liquid burning through its metal cranium.
Carter fired and finished it.
'How is your right arm?' Carter asked over their terminator-terminator data link.
'Limited abduction, limited adduction, I cannot flex it above sixty degrees and I cannot extend it.' John answered his friend. He felt the liquid metal already coursing under his skin, bathing his dented and torn metal pieces.
The liquid silver metal, he could feel, was already attempting to move the power distribution cable from its compressed position under his armor plate as it began to push at the plate in its effort to fix it.
'Should we wait?' Carter asked.
John shook his head definitively. 'No, we need to secure this area for Daniel. We can't risk him being damaged. He can't self-repair like we can,' John said as justification.
'I'll take lead then,' Carter said, stepping out before John could agree.
The machine narrowed his eyes slightly. He appreciated Carter stepping forward but would have preferred the machine to wait for his authorization to do so. His command of Alpha Detachment prior to jumping back in time to 2008 had been strict, professional. With Jo and Carter, his two lieutenants, he'd developed a strong friendship which had begun to interfere with command since they came to the Colonies.
Both machines once again stepped up, John holding the isotope rifle close with one hand, Carter holding his pressed against his shoulder like a rifle. Some of the skin on his left hand had blistered slightly from the early, near-continuous stream of plasma Carter had fired at the heavy-weapons wielding Centurions.
John, stepping over a Centurion, halted and stepped back, driving his boot deep into the Centurion's chest and crushing its MCP as its armor crinkled like tin under the immense pressure and power of the TK-950 combat chassis.
Carter and John turned right, John clearing the left corridor. Part of the above deck had collapsed through a hole in the ceiling and half a dozen support beams, struts, venting units, and crushed metal and biological Cylon bodies filled in the cracks between the collapsed floor, sealing the left corridor off from anything which might be on the other side.
They continued down, seeing the ancillary chamber to the hybrid up ahead. Carter and John again pressed themselves against the bulkhead. Carter threw one grenade, quickly followed by a second.
An aching, deep moan resonated from the chamber, and a pale hand plopped down, a rifle clanking to the floor in front of it and it began shaking as the dying body it was attached to began to spasm.
Two Centurions exposed themselves and fired, one throwing a grenade. John and Carter leapt forward, Carter running his plasma rifle high and John low, the two machines decapitating and dismembering the Centurions simultaneously.
John bounded left, down a side corridor as Carter dived into a bulkhead. He fired again at a slim portion of exposed Centurion armor. The plasma bolt splashed on the doorway but continued on, burning the armor of the Centurion and sending it dripping, oozing onto the floor.
The superheated metal was dripping down, like slowly melting ice cream in the hot California sun, yet the Centurion still held its ground and didn't waver. Carter heard the Centurion and understood. It was digging its claw into the supports and decorations within the room, keeping itself erect.
Carter was preparing to fire, as soon as the Centurion showed itself, only to watch it as it was blasted forward, its limb flailing as it crashed into the wall immediately in front of him and collapsed. A large hole was in its back from where John had shot it. Carter heard two more of the crack-hiss rifle sounds and the crumpling bodies of two Centurions instantaneously followed.
The machine stepped over the burning, melting hand of the dead… it was a Cavil Cylon, and into the chamber. John stood on the opposite side, having come in from the other entrance. They both scanned the actual hybrid chamber, one red blip appearing on their motion scanners.
John kept his rifle level at roughly stomach height, Carter at chest height, and the two neared each other, pressed together shoulder-to-shoulder and advanced in together quickly.
"If you move, I will kill her," they heard a deep, raspy voice declare.
A Simon, face half burned and blackened, collared shirt in tatters, and left arm held up against his body as if broken, stood over the hybrid holding a pistol to her head. He was kneeling on both knees, struggling to breath, his right arm and pistol shaking.
At the range the Simon was at, it would be almost impossible for him to miss the hybrid's head.
John immediately fired, a plasma bolt impacting the cranium of the Simon. Brain matter and blood instantly vaporized, exploding the skull and sending fragments of bone and brain showering over the hybrids chambers.
The superheated gas washed over the Simon's neck, boiling the blood in its torso, its chest and back ballooning out under the immense pressure of vaporizing, gaseous blood, making the Cylon appear to be some bloated, headless freak. In a fit of death the muscles inside his arms and torso contracted, pushing the blood in a geyser through the Simon's cauterized neck and forcing the body into a violent spasm.
"Good shot," Carter complimented, the two machines moving forward slowly. The only immediate entrance and pathway from the hanger to the hybrid chamber was secured. Carter went up and pressed his booted toe against the dead Simon. "This is a bit gruesome," he remarked with a slight grin.
He propped his rifle against his shoulder one handed, barrel towards the ceiling.
A piece of brain matter fell from the ceiling and landed on his opposite shoulder, eliciting a slight chuckle from John.
Daniel came quickly with Gina, Athena, and Shaw, Marines, and his own black-armored Centurions. The Marines fanned out, taking sentry positions to secure the chamber. Daniel nodded to his guards and the Centurions dispersed out of the chamber to secure the ancillary chamber and the short corridor beyond.
"You guys always leave a wake of destruction," Athena chided, poking John in the side. She shook her head. She marched over to the dead Simon, gave its body a once over and turned to John. Disbelieving, she shook her head. "I swear…" she sighed as she lifted off her helmet.
"It gets the job done," Captain Shaw responded for the machines. No defense was needed since Athena had no malice in her criticism; it being just a friendly jab at the machine's propensity for utter destruction and extreme overkill. The short, feisty captain gave a sidelong glance over to Carter, who was already helping Gina with her work with the hybrid, who was mumbling.
Athena came over and stood next to John as they watched Gina and Daniel direct the other and Carter in how to disconnect the hybrid.
"You get shot?" Athena asked, more rhetorically than inquisitive. She motioned towards John's arm.
He shrugged, showing her the arm. She saw the shining liquid metal working at the forearm, trying to repair the damage. He could extend and flex the shoulder joint very little still, but it was far more than he could have a mere ten minutes ago.
"The Cylons are figuring you all out. I take it that was an anti-material rifle?" Athena asked.
John nodded. "Yes. Underpowered, however."
"Well, they probably don't want to punch through the hull or anything vital," Athena shrugged in response. She crossed her arms and moved forward and sat on her heels as she bent down over the hybrid. "I never imagined I'd be this close to one of them." She shivered. "The way they talk… Leoben always thought the hybrids were angels or something like that…" she stood back up. "Would the hybrids for Cynet also be angels?" She wondered.
The two, one a bio-machine and one a pure machine let that thought shuffle through their minds. Neither was comfortable answering that at the moment, though neither really believe the hypothesis proposed by the Leoban model to be correct.
"The hybrids don't work like that," Gina stated her head and eyes down and her hands nimbly working at her data pad as she took reading from the hybrid. The main data stream conduit was still plugged in, the hybrid mumbling.
"You would know this?" Athena asked Gina condescendingly, dismissing her statement and not considering it for more than a fleeting, inconsequential moment.
Gina shot her an icy look. Her eyes bore daggers into the soldier bio-Cylon.
"Unlike you, Eight, my line was designed to be soldiers, commanders, and technicians. While the shiny and bright lights of the hybrid pool mesmerize you, us Sixes are actually learning how things work," she sneered. Athena took a step forward, Gina shot to her feet.
The Marines stepped forward, their rifles raised threateningly at the Six.
"Stand down," John ordered, his voice unnatural loud and booming. He gritted his teeth and stepped between the two bickering Cylons facing Gina, his feet inches from the hybrid's chamber. "Stand-"
The hybrid grabbed John's foot, pulling herself half way out of her tank, stretching her fiber optic cables. Cylon data stream liquid oozed and dripped off the hybrids naked body, wrapped in data cable. She twisting, exposing her back which had a dozen cables running off of metallic data ports which had been grafted to her central nervous system over her spine.
John eyes shot down. The hybrid's grip was unnatural strong, even for a bio-Cylon. She looked up, locking her dark eyes with the deep, ocean blue eyes of the machines.
"…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…" the hybrid spoke.
The hybrid tightened its grip on the terminator, its finger nails digging deep into John's skin, pressing against the hard metal endoskeleton beneath.
"What? What does that mean?" Gina asked.
"John… what?" Athena asked.
John looked at them both and back to the hybrid. This was… he had no idea how to describe what was happening, no idea to explain this. Was the hybrid just mumbling? Why had it waited to grab him? Gina and Daniel had been just as close. Carter was on the other side, crouched next to one of the floor access panels.
John continued to look down, the hybrid looking at him and locking her eyes on his unblinking orbs.
"…you know what has to be done..." the hybrid began to scream. The pitch and tone was ear shattering.
"Oh God!" Gina shouted, clutching her ears as she keeled over from the shriek.
"Gods!" The Marines shouted, their rifles hanging limp from their tactical shoulder slings as their gloved hands attempted to cover their ears.
As suddenly as the hybrid began, it stopped.
"… you know what has to be done… like on Earth… the salvation of the wicked shall deny salvation to the worthy…"
John tilted his head, the machine's mouth opening in disbelief. He didn't believe the hybrid.
"…on Earth as it is… cannot be the Earth which will be…"
The hybrids eyes went wide and she suddenly released the machine's leg, her hand hovering millimeters from his pants, still like a claw ready to grasp once again.
The hybrid convulsed, sending the conduction fluid splashing out of her tub and over the sides, washing over John's feet. He turned quickly; Gina's hands were at the data stream cable, one hand on the uplink to the hybrid, one on the disconnected download cable.
"What are you doing?" John demanded.
Gian shot up, pressing herself precariously close to John and stretching herself to her full height, a mere three inches less than the machine she was challenging.
"I'm putting an end to this." She gestured to the now silent, still hybrid, the lights around her dimmed. Angrily she began again. "This is a Cylon trick. A trick!"
John narrowed his eyes and closed the distance between them. "That is not for you to determine," he said evenly. There was no need to make threats. It was clear to the bio-Cylon.
Daniel, standing over the hybrid's dulled pit kneeled down and reached to the hybrid. He touched her flaccid arm, which he released. It fell quickly back into the conduction fluid and drifted back down to her side.
"I hope there is no damage to her," he said, leering at the Six. He stood back up and crossed around the hybrid's put and stood menacingly behind the bio-Cylon, who was holding her ground. He leaned in and quietly whispered, "you should pray, Cylon, that you didn't damage her."
Her head shot around and her eyes locked with Daniels. Not even considering her worth it the AI bared its fake teeth slightly and turned.
"Continue your work," Daniel stated.
"Do it," John commander, his voice now filled with venom. He stepped back, only pointing at Gina's data pad and the access port she had been working at as his only continued acknowledgment of her presence.
She looked at John, to Carter, to Athena, and even to Shaw. She could see the hatred and contempt in their eyes. Looking down, she sniffed and rubbed her nose. Not talking she stepped back and kneeled back down, taking the data pad in her hand to continue her work.
||||||||||==BS-62 Pegasus (Six Hours Post Mission)==||||||||||
Admiral Cain and Commander Adama stood over the hybrid, each with their arms crossed, deep in thought as they looked at the darkened form of the light skinned woman. President Roslin stood at the base of the tub, leaning forward and trying to see through the opaque fluid.
"My Gods…" Roslin said quietly, shaking her head. "I never imagined we would have one of these things on board a Colonial ship."
Adama and Cain both looked at her and then looked at John and Daniel.
Cain's left eyebrow shot up. "I never thought one of these would be on one of my ships either, Madame President," she added in a somewhat friendly tone. "How do we know its safe?" She asked, putting her hands on the side.
"Disconnected like this, the hybrid can't communicate, it can't do anything," John said.
The Admiral slowly moved her hand out and over the opaque conduction fluid, dipping her index finger in ever so carefully. The liquid was still cool to the touch, denser than water it had an… interesting feel to it. Cain cocked her head and leaned in closer to the hybrid. She could just barely hear its breathing and see its eyes move ever so slightly under its shut eyelids.
"Remarkable," she muttered quietly. Blinking, she shot back up.
"How long before it can be useful to us?" Commander Adama asked. "And what about what it said to you, John?" the grizzled commander added.
"It will take a while for us to connect it to the proper systems… we can't have it attempt to exert control over Pegasus systems-"
"Definitely not," the Admiral added pointedly.
John nodded.
"What the hybrid said to me, it could be a trick. If Skynet attempted to upload itself during the time period we hypothesized, then it is very lickley the reduced, altered entity known as Cynet might very well know who I am."
"Would they?" Roslin asked.
Turning to her, John answered with a head nod. "Myself, Soto, and Bishop were sent back in time to fight Skynet before it was born… it would remember. You would remember something like that… but Skynet could not upload its entire core algorithms and personality matrices to the Cylon Network…" the machine shrugged and looked down dismissively. "It could it could not, I admit I don't know."
"Do we have any way to find out if the message was authentic?" Adama asked.
He was genuinely interested in what the hybrid had said. While he didn't believe it was some 'link' to God (since he believe in no God or Gods), he reasoned there could be a rational, logical reason behind the hybrid's behavior. Time travel, teleportation, and AI were beyond his complete understanding, but Athena had told him she knew very little about how the hybrids worked. Caprica, an infiltrator and soldier, didn't know much, and Dr. Baltar knew nothing.
"The hybrid was non-specific, much like psychics on Earth or your readers here in the Fleet," John answered. "Once we determine how the Cylon hybrid operates, we may be able to find out if the message was authentic or not."
The Admiral nodded and turned to the Commander, informing him she needed to take care of other duties. She left, her Marine escort joining her outside the compartment.
President Roslin stepped sideways until she was besides the commander, opposite John and Daniel, the hybrid separating the two.
"I'm concerned, Mr. Planck," the President stated. "Over the line about salvation."
"Yes," John responded.
The president looked at him disbelievingly. "Yes? So you understand my concern?" She sounded skeptical. Roslin looked at Adama, whose eyes were latched onto John. "I remember you made an oath to this fleet."
"What the hybrid said… could very well have been a trick. You should not be concerned, Madame President."
Roslin shook her head, the right side of her mouth curling up. "No, I don't think so," she held up her hand. "I made an oath to this fleet as well. We might only be a few tens of thousands, Mr. Planck, but I will defend this fleet and its interests with every ounce of strength I have." She paused. "Earth, Connor, Skynet… you three, and you," she nodded at Daniel, "all attempted to protect us from the shadows… like we wouldn't be able to understand the threat out there. What if… what if…" her voice crackled, "you had just told us your suspicions about the Cylons? You arrived at the Colonies eighteen months before the Cylons attack…" she gripped Adama's arm. "If you had told us… twenty billion people might be alive right now, if you'd only warned us."
She looked at them once and squeezed Adama's arm. Slowly she turned and took two steps, stopping, and looking back at the silent machines. Roslin saw the machines splitting their attention between her and the Commander and she swore, swore that for an instant, a fleeting moment, a blink of an eye she saw that the machines understood why she hated them.
Looking back down at the deck Roslin leaned forward, paused, and felt Adama's hand on her back. The two left the machines, staring at their backs, standing over the hybrid.
John looked down and back at Daniel.
He rested his hands on the side of the hybrid's chamber. Its eyes opened, and its hand grabbed his arm.
AN: I apologize for the long delay, but I think it will be worth it... I finished a TSCC story (slightly longer than The Mission) which I shall be posting later today. It has Planck being sent back to 2008 and involves Doctor Carwin and Wells from Future War: Enemies and Machines. It's basically going to be the back story of what Planck, Soto, and Bishop did on Earth. There's quite a lot of stuff to throw in, so that will be the first featuring the trio (the first actually is just Planck and the reason why the others weren't sent through with him is explained in story).
Okay, so with By Courage and Blood... I keep saying the chapters are getting closer to the end, and they are. However, I tend to think of something else I want to throw in, making them a bit longer. The story will still end in the same spot... and I am hoping, hoping in the next month. Then between BCAB and whatever I name Part III, I want to have the Omega Team story about how they tried to stop Skynet in the Colonies.
So please, read and review. Good, bad, or indifferent, I enjoy reading the reviews and any PMs about the story. Questions and constructive criticisms are of course always welcome.
Thanks, and again, I apologize for the delay. There will not be another long wait like with this chapter.