||||||||||==Algae Planet, Harvest Site (+1007 Days Post Cylon Holocaust)==||||||||||
Captain Kendra Shaw, hands shaking, quickly opened the bottle and knocked three white, oblong pills into her hands. The throbbing pain only intensified as she rolled the white pills, now caked with algae, in her palm. Her mouth was dry, the incessant heat aggravated her wounds, and the pain was only getting worse the longer she delayed this. She popped in the pills- the simple act of throwing back her head and dry-swallowing the off-white pills was enough for her pain to vanish.
Hands still shaking and careful in her movements twisted the cap back on and tucked the translucent orange bottle deep into the cargo pocket of her pants. She felt the metal case in there, oblong, like the pills, hiding her other secret. Gasping she let out a staggered breath through her nose as she tenderly rubbed her back.
Under her gray and brown military tank top she could still feel the scarring from the surgery. Doctor Roberts had done wondering repairing the internal damage but the bullet had torn itself through her. The skin on her lower back and abdomen was tight and scarred.
"Captain… captain, are you out here?" She heard a familiar voice yell. "Someone saw you run off, you back here?" The voice shouted again as it see-sawed between play and agitation.
"Over here, Major," she shouted over her shoulder. A shuffling of feet and a her back being cooled as a shadow fell over her told her the Major was behind her. Throwing off the look of a woman in pain and plastering the look of a warrior on her face and slowly, methodically turned to face her commander.
Major Adama, a stack of papers crammed into file folders in his hands, looked at her, and for a moment Shaw was afraid he'd seen right through her and discovered the secret she didn't want to admit to keeping.
"You alright?" He asked, worried, concerned. Apollo pressed the file folders against his algae-stained shirt to give himself a free hand.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine." She waved him off. "What's going on?" She asked.
"Paper work… administration…" he said as he still eyed her uneasily. She was behind some of the sleeping tents on the edge of the little canyon they were in. She was completely out of site unless someone made an effort to see her.
"What?" She hissed. "Do I have algae smeared all over my face?"
She tried to come off hard and agitated but Apollo ignored it, purposefully twisting it like she had been joking.
Adama snickered. "Yeah, in fact, you do all over your chin and cheek." He pointed. "You sure you're alright?" He didn't feel it was his place to press the issue, but he'd seen people like her before. She was a loner with few friends (Apollo was even hesitant to think 'few') who worked fifteen to eighteen hour shifts seven days a week. "If you want to head back up to Pegasus I'm sure there is someone else who'd like to come down to the planet?" He offered. He was close to making it an order.
She took a step forward and held out her hand, expecting Apollo to hand her the paperwork. "I can do my job, Major, just fine." He slowly released his grip on the folders and she snatched them away.
Adama nodded slowly and held his ground. "Any more news from the machines?"
"What am I, their keeper?" She snarled.
Adama held his ground but pushed back his head in shock at the abrupt change. "Calm down, captain," he instructed her, holding his palms out by his chest, "I just asked you a yes or no question."
The captain's jaw clicked as she opened her mouth to answer him. "No. They took Baltar somewhere in the Raptor and have been scouting the area north of our secondary site. They think there might be something up there." A short humph of contempt for the machines, Baltar, and their entire mission told Adama to back off the topic. "We're still ahead of schedule? This whole planet… the sooner we leave the better. And that sun," she nodded up towards the sky, "is on the verge of blowing up this entire system."
"If it wasn't for that this planet would be almost habitable. The radiation would be manageable for us to stay here for a while, rest." He shrugged and shifted uneasily. The woman glaring at him, or looking at him with a casual disinterest was off-putting, but he still sensed something was wrong. "But we can't let a New Caprica happen again." He looked off.
"No, we can't let a New Caprica happen again," she echoed.
"The Centurion workers will have us done and out of here after about fifteen to seventeen days." He threw up his hand to shade his eyes from a sudden break in the clouds and a strong glare from the sun. "They're going to load their baseship with algae just in case… a backup."
Shaw had completely forgotten about the Centurions. But now she could hear their loud, plodding footsteps and whirl of servos and joints quite clearly. By last count there were nearly a hundred and fifty on the planet and she had no idea how many there were now.
Thousands from the fleet had volunteered for the mission. Put a foot down on terra firma again. While thousands had volunteered to do something many had to be ordered down here. Echoes of New Caprica still sounded loudly in the fleet and images of the Cylon armada and hundreds of raiders flying formation over New Caprica City had made many deathly afraid of ever setting foot on a planet again.
"Anyway, Major, I'll take these to my tent and look over the reports and…"
"I know it's not much, captain, but tonight there's enough algae processed to feed the entire fleet fully. At 1900 we're all going to have a little… algae potluck, I guess. Anders and the C-Bucs are going to put on a Pyramid game against us… there'll be a little music- a break for a few hours… we've been at this over a week." He was trying to suggest to her she should attend, but she was just staring off past him at the sandy and weed infested walls of the canyon. He positioned himself in front of her so she would have to look at him. "You should come. The last five weeks have been one roller coaster to one crisis or another." He decided to be obvious. "Don't make me make it an order."
She smiled dismissively at him and dragged her heels in the sun-baked ground as she stepped off and away from major.
"Maybe," was her simple response. "If you don't mind, Major, I have some work to do."
She rubbed her side and gave Adama a few seconds to say anything. He didn't so she stepped forward.
Adama knew that was all he was going to get from her and stepped aside, letting her by.
Cautiously she brushed passed the Major and headed into her tent.
There was solitude here, peace. Even with the thump-thump of Centurion feet smashing into the hard, dried dirt and the whines and wires of machinery she was in a peaceful place.
Solitude and peace were her words for loneliness.
Captain Kendra Shaw, a self-admitted loner and anti-social Colonial officer, allowed herself one last look over her shoulder towards the crest of a high hill behind her. With the dim glow of the star cluster in the night sky the radiating white lights of the base camp was easy to see in the soft darkness.
A fit of laughter, some cries of joy and fun, and the loud double honking of an air horn meant half time on one of the Pyramid games.
When she'd snuck off a team from Galactica was playing a team from Helios, with the Helios team up by one.
Everyone was having so much fun.
So she decided to sneak away from the 'algae potluck' and find a place close, but isolated, and had lowered herself onto a large, dusty, grime-covered flat rock on the edge of one of the massive lakes of algae. The air was warm, and except for the smell, easy on the lungs. Occasionally a breeze would kick up, intensifying the noxious smell of algae but cooling the air.
She took out her hair band and let her hair out.
Sitting cross legged on the rock she looked down at her watch and wondered how much longer they'd go on. Pegasus hadn't been hit as hard as the fleet with regards to food shortages and after being shot, she'd had her rations increased by Doctor Roberts. It wasn't that she was hungry. She wasn't even physically tired, but she still felt tired.
Absently, she watched the little red colon blink on-off-on-off as it ticked away the seconds until the red diodes would change from a four to a five.
Her ears perked up at the sound of a second air horn. Focusing and holding her breath she could just barely hear the faint beats of classic Caprican rock blaring on the base camp's PA system. She listened closely, her finger tips tapping the rocks, as the beat intensified. It faded and was replaced by some Virgon rap music which only served to sour her mood.
She figured if the frakers at base camp wanted to be a ignorant fraks she'd let them and wouldn't say a word as they forgot about their troubles. In an hour the happiness would be gone and they'd realize that a few short hours of Pyramid and dancing they were still stuck on this stinking, humid, barren planet harvesting algae.
By a superficial glance this planet was habitable and well hidden. A deeper analysis showed the danger; radiation and nova. All alone, Shaw's thoughts were on the cryptic and dark. A helium flash would be their only sign. The sky would glow red and grow dark and a shockwave would move towards the planet at thirty-thousand kilometers a second. They'd have a little over eighty minutes to evacuate.
She leaned back her hand and scooted her legs out until she was propped on her elbows. It was a little uncomfortable but the view was worth it. She swore she could see the dim light of Pegasus and Galactica as they orbit in geo-synch above.
She began to lower herself more, but winced and moaned from the pain that shot through her side. Quickly she sat up and rubbed her flank. Her eye spotted a little flat rock waiting silently for her to notice it.
For some reason she felt throwing the flat rock into the lake and listening to it hit the water would somehow be soothing. It wasn't. It just plopped in.
She reached slowly into her pocket and her fingers found exactly what she was expecting to find. No surprises. It was a little, dirty secret only one other person knew about and she hadn't told anyone.
This wasn't her, she told herself. How would her mother have reacted? Marta Shaw, Quorum delegate… and not just any delegate! She was a Caprican Quorum delegate. Power, prestige, money… parties and boys. Marta Shaw had provided everything for Kendra Shaw. And Kendra as a beautiful, intelligent, tenacious Caprican had gotten everything she set her eyes on. No matter how many parties and boyfriends she had had, she'd never done anything like this. She wasn't a frak up. Magna cum laude from university, second in her OCS class, a computer genius, a linguist, a fleet officer… she'd been on a fast track before the Cylons had attacked.
A tour babysitting an admiral as a staff officer and then she could have had her pick of positions. A position on the Colonial flagship had been a possibility… a few more rotations and she could have had a command by her thirty-fifth birthday if she'd played it right.
But the Cylons came, ruined her life, and forced her down to this.
She finally withdrew her secret from its hiding spot.
"One thousand… fraking… days," she whispered. Her mouth was dry and lips cracked and her throat confusingly sore to the point it almost hurt to talk.
Carefully she unscrewed the metal cigar container and pulled out a syringe. She bit down on the plastic cover, pulled it off, and then spit it into her hand. She felt the cool, sharp needle press into her neck, ready to break the skin. Kendra recoiled and pulled back. She wasn't an idiot and realized with her neck covered in algae and filth she risked infection. Then she realized before she'd left she'd wiped the algae and dirt and grease from her face and neck. She shrugged. The only reason she had not to do this was gone. Her own subconscious mind had done her work for her and determined her fate.
She could see the faces of the men and women of Scylla. People like Chief Laird and the fourteen other 'selectees' were constant reminders to her of what she had done- he stood there, stiff and nearly catatonic, staring at the billowing gray smoke from her pistol, completely frozen. The smell of gunfire had burned through the air and into her lungs and a part of her had wanted to break down in that moment, ball up, and just cry and yell.
Then in that same moment she'd felt that part of her vanish, disappear. It wasn't guilt she felt and it wasn't shame. She had no idea. It just felt wrong.
Kendra switched hands from her left to her right. The right wasn't shaking as much as the left. She tilted her head to her left shoulder. Carefully she pulled back her hair until it was pressed between her ear and shoulder and draped over the left side of her chest. She felt it sticking to the dirtied and sticky skin of her left arm. The needle hovered over the side of her neck, ready to plunge in…
"We were wondering where you went."
She jumped, almost dropping the syringe, it rolled on her arm but she grabbed it in a blur with her left hand. The metal cigar case was on her lap and quickly she stuffed the syringe back in, shifting so her back was to it, and shoved the case into her pocket.
Closing her eyes she stiffened. There was no way it hadn't seen what she was doing. There was no way it didn't know what she was doing. They could pretend to be clueless, but she knew, she could see in their eyes they knew humans better than humans knew themselves.
"What do you want?" She demanded keeping her eyes closed as a cool breeze whipped from the blue - green algae lake and for a moment, washed away the apprehension and dread and let her escape. In seconds the breeze was gone and she was stuck back on the hot, humid planet. "Is there something you need?"
"I'll make this clear, Kendra; I don't need anything from you," the machine retorted harshly.
The hard, nearly inhuman, mechanical voice forced the captain to open her eyes one at a time and scowl. Admitting she was taken aback by what he'd just said was… she felt insulted. He had never been so abrasive, rude. What they'd done in the past had just been friendly… fun, she admitted.
She slowly rubbed her head with the tips of her fingers and felt the algae residue on the tips spreading and matting her hair. At that moment she couldn't care less about her appearance. She gripped her hair, her arms and hands tensed, and she was on the verge of just pulling.
"You came down here, Carter. Machines don't wander unless they have a purpose to it." She adjusted and used her hands to help turn her, and she slid on the rock and used the dirt to help her. Kendra couldn't see Carter that well, but she did seem him silhouetted against the hill with the light from the 'algae potluck' shining over it. "And please spare me the lessons on what machines do and don't do… I couldn't care less… well, I could. Try me." She bared her teeth before scooting back to face the lake.
She didn't even hear the machine take a seat next to her, slightly above her on another outcropping. The Pegasus officer looked at him from the corner of her eye and let out a shallow grunt from the diaphragm.
"You're right. You're the only one not at the little algae social Major Adama organized." He pointed out.
At this, Kendra was a bit surprised. She'd have assumed people were going to sleep rather than go- save their strength.
Carter continued as if he'd read her mind. "Even tired… it's a social event, a morale booster. Tired and still hungry everyone went. You must feed the soul."
Kendra buried her face into her palms. The last thing she wanted was listening to the lame little sayings they had a tendency to repeat.
Through her hands in a muffle voice bordering on a soft whimper said, "I can't believe this." She ran dirtied hands through scraggly and unkempt hair and swung her head over. "I don't think you understand." She grew angry. "I don't think you understand at all. You're a TERM-IN-A-TOR. You kill things… born-built, and flipping a switch at the factory to 'go and kill, Oh Rah' and you go and do it."
"I'm not an idiot Kendra-"
"Don't call me that," she hissed. "No one calls me by my first name."
"Maybe if you let people be your friend more people would?" He asked.
Her jaw was clenched and her lips were a thin horizontal line. To add to the look of annoyance her eyes were narrowed and her brows creased down. Her nostrils flared in and out with the rhythm of her breathing.
"Did you come here because you and your delusional commander haven't found your fucking whatever it is you are looking for?" She snarled. "You all are so obsessed with Earth… you want to find it… when your own Gods… God damned metal commander lied to you and left you to jump to the Colonies to die!" She kicked out then stomped down on the rock from her seated position. "You're taking us to a planet your kind fucked up and you want us to solve your problem... Frak!"
"Is that all?" Carter replied casually. "What do you want to do? Wander the galaxy always running from the Cylons?" She swore she saw a faint glow of the eyes. "Or do you want to die in an ohhh so glorious battle with a Cylon baseship?" He finished with a sarcastic nip at her heels.
"Frak you." She turned quickly to face him and winced back when she felt the pain shoot through her side, abdomen, and pelvis and up into her shoulder and neck from the sudden movement. "Gods damnit…" she whimpered.
"I don't know what you're trying to do," Carter said, "by pushing people away and injecting that into your neck… for how long?" he asked accusingly. "Years. Since Scylla."
She stopped breathing, her eyes darted to the distant horizon, to the hills, and she wanted to run.
She heard a chuckle at her expense.
"It's pretty Gods fraking obvious, Captain." He snorted and she cringed. "I saw it after you assaulted the Guardian baseship. You broke the habit over New Caprica and started it back up after Pegasus jumped away."
She was that obvious? Who else knew?
"It's been on and off. You need it." He said.
The captain felt cold, hot, dying, alive, and every emotion and every fear simultaneously as the faces of those people aboard the doomed freighter once again flashed in front of her, so vivid, so alive. They deserved to be alive, she knew, not her.
"You don't know what I've gone through."
"You had orders," Carter comforted from behind her. He coolly added, "Admiral Cain ordered you to. We've all heard the rumors of what happened. What would she have done if you refused?"
"Orders? That… doesn't justify… anything," she spat.
She cocked her head, the sudden movement dislodging… a tear.. from her own eye? She covered up wiping her eyes by trying to clean the smudged algae off her face. Admiral Cain had ordered her to take action and she had taken action. The Admiral she saw as a mentor- someone she wanted to be one day- had ordered her to do this.
"No, orders are not justification for acts such as those," Carter said after a pause. "I was… I was under orders once. Before Planck and Soto were even built I was a Terminator for Skynet."
Captain Shaw turned slowly and pushed herself away shaking, unblinking. She slid her hand through the coarse dirt on the rock, cringing at the sound, moving it towards her left foot.
"What…?"
Her left hand tickled the carbon grip of the small pistol strapped to her ankle. She stopped and balled her hand back into a fist and slowly brought it to her chest. Clutching it with the other she opened it, palm to chest, and placed it over her heart. She slowed her breathing and waited for the machine.
Even on this planet filled with nothing but algae she couldn't feel safe. Her nightmare of Scylla haunted her, the 'selectees' she saw on Pegasus constant reminders of her sins.
"It was a long time ago, Kendra... I didn't understand what I was doing… I was trapped and damaged and somehow my chip activated its read/write mode." He slowly explained. "That just doesn't happen… unexplainable… impossible."
There was tenderness behind the way he said her name. It wasn't to antagonize her like on so many uncountable occasions in the fleet.
The captain tried to fight it and protest, but couldn't bring herself to snap at what she was starting to see as a person with a background she couldn't imagine.
"Then how…" she stammered "…How do you fight with them now?" She licked dry, cracking lips. "Against… Skynet."
She heard a quiet breathe. It was unmistakably that of pain… embarrassment… disgrace. Shaw knew the machines better than most, but she never saw them as… whatever this was.
The machines would stare and stand almost uncomfortably close but not now.
"Skynet found me locked in a bunker outside Los Angeles. My old neural net processor was incredibly advanced and I had knowledge on how to fight the resistance. I downloaded the schematics to Skynet… Skynet, the new Skynet that freed me was smarter, more pragmatic, and less obsessive. It used my chip and designed a new, better chip- it let me be the first to download my consciousness into it. A gift. An expression of trust from Skynet to me." A slight hiss of air through clenched teeth punctuated the painful silence. "It wanted soldiers, Kendra, not drones. It put me in command of a new group of Terminators and we sabotaged anything we could in the refugee camps. With firing a single plasma rifle we could kill thousands."
A solemn moment of understand fell between the two.
She gasped when she felt the pain of her fingers being driven into her chest. Surprised, she released her own hand and let her arms falls to her side and rest on the cool rock.
"What you're doing, Captain, won't work. You want to suppress the memory. We tried that on Earth. Terminators … AI, we can suppress our memories…" he waved his hand, "it's a complicated process of coding and programming, but it's possible. That's why some used to go bad. The memories were suppressed but so powerful, even for us, they resurfaced, confused us.. In an act of… maybe mercy…" he shrugged and lowered himself from the rock to sit next to her, "… mercy, I don't know," he repeated, "the human technicians suppressed our memories on our request in the hope our defection would be easier."
Shaw's voice cracked. "It sounds… I didn't know that. That you could actually feel guilt," she admitted.
"No. You need to remember because if you push it down it will come back someday." He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "You can't let that happen to you."
Kendra didn't dare to look over. She let herself relax under the light weight of the hand, the gentle grip on her shoulder by a hand that could crush bone as easily as snapping twigs. After what could only be thought of as an eternity for the young captain where all she felt was the thumping of her heart in her chest, and hear her breath in her ears, she stiffened as the machine slowly withdrew its hand.
She pushed herself up from her seated position to leave, run for that horizon, let the impending nova wash over her, but stopped mid-way and let herself fall back down. She didn't realize it, but she was closer to the machine.
"Why did you do that?" She whispered so quietly she didn't even know if the machine could hear.
"Because…" He felt it'd be right for him to sit down next to her.
"You don't even know," she mumbled. Her body language immediately changed and she brought her knees to her chest and leaned forward and wrapped her arms around them. She was closing herself off to the world.
She heard the machine snort. She swore it was contempt when she glanced over.
"I've known very few machines and even fewer people who can live their lives in solitary, self-imposed confinement like you have. Whether you see what you did as a sin against your Gods… that's between you and them. What you..." he hesitated, "what you do now is how you'll be remembered."
"That's why I'm not doing anything."
"I know." He said.
Then, before either knew, not knowing who moved first, he was kissing her and she was kissing him. Two years of what they each considered a dysfunctional friendship spaced over thousands of light years finally resolved itself in that moment.
Suddenly she was on her back as loud cracks echoed across the rocks and slopes.
"What the frak?"
"Stay down." Carter said, keeping her pinned to the rock.
A second set of crack…crack… crack and she realized it was gunfire. She tried to slide out from under the machine but couldn't. Then he was off her and she pushed herself up and her hand grabbed the small pistol she kept with her.
Carter was already up and Shaw could see a man, partially silhouetted against the lights of the base camp, running. On instinct she took aim as the machine neared the man and her finger wrapped around the trigger and slowly squeezed.
She didn't hear the shot. The bright yellow muzzle flash blinded her and all she could see were dark blue-green spots when she blinked. Cautiously she slid her hands under her, still gripping her pistol, and pushed herself onto her hands and knees and then up to her feet.
The man had been maybe forty, fifty meters from them on the extreme edge of his motion sensors.
A single bullet from sixty meters had slammed into the man's back. Shaw scrambled over there quickly as her vision cleared.
Apparently the bullet hadn't hit the man in the back. Shaw could just barely see the torn muscle and flesh of a bullet entry at the man's arm, right behind the elbow. The shock of being shot and the darkness had knocked the man off balance.
"He's dead," Carter said, kneeling over the body.
The man was still face down. A rock next to him was incredibly bloody and in the darkness an almost mahogany color, blood, instead of the natural softer, lighter brown.
Shaw didn't say anything. She just stood there, pistol hanging lazily at her side, and her chest heaving from the adrenaline. Carter looked up, stood up and could see the shock. He put his arm around her and for a moment she stood there, not moving and just staring down at the body.
She could hear people yelling over the hill. The base camp must have heard the gunshots.
There was a spark which seemed to knock on her auto-pilot. She was outside of her body, watching it bend down and roll the man over. She knew him. He was from Scylla.
||||||||||==BS-62 Pegasus (+1,008 Days Post Cylon Holocaust)==||||||||||
Captain Shaw dutifully removed her tunic, but waited- and then frustrated, hurriedly motioned- for Doctor Roberts to close the door to the exam room. Sighing, and hurting all over, she took over her gray and brown tank tops, leaving only her bra and pants on, balled the two tanks tops up and tossed them behind her on the exam table. Fidgeting as Roberts washed his hands, she heard the thin paper under her crinkle and tear.
"Hands are a little cold, sorry," he apologized, offering her a weak smile.
He received an uncaring shrug in response. She felt those cold hands on her side, his fingers moving up and down the scar and surgical wound from where Gina had shot her.
She watched him like a Tauron hawk as he remove the bandages the combat medic had applied. It was all just superficial, really, but her she wasn't supposed to do more than light administration work. Being shot at was definitely against Doctor's Orders.
"So what happened down there?" He asked.
His tone was casual but Shaw could sense the almost condescending curiosity lacing the question.
She looked over and gave him the best evil eye she could manage. He, of course, wrapped in his examination, could hardly have spared a second to notice. And he didn't.
"I was by the lake near the base camp," she said, short and to the point, "one of the machine came over, someone else came- drunk most likely, and shot at us."
Partially true, she admitted to herself. She felt no shame in lying to the doctor about what had happened- she wasn't sure whether she was embarrassed because of the inevitable rumors that would swirl (though she considered if they were true, technically they weren't rumors) or whether it was humiliation, shame, at what she had done one thousand days ago and… she looked at her watch, three hours and sixteen minutes ago.
It's not like Roberts didn't know what day this was, either, she thought. She felt like strangling him for his casual, 'just-another-fraking-day' attitude. The way he stood, the way he was just going about his job like nothing had ever happened. She hated him for it. She hated him and the others taken from the civilian fleet Pegasus had stripped. She wanted him to attack her, show some anger on this thousandth day.
She blew out, only to wince as Doctor Roberts applied a slightly more palpation pressure.
"Just shallow breathing, Shaw," he ordered. He stood back and unwrapped his stethoscope from around his neck and listened to her heart and lung fields. "Breath in… out… in… out…" he repeated six times. Snapping off the stethoscope he went over and grabbed an ointment. "I want a scan just to make sure nothing internal is messed up. Heart and lung sounds are good, so…" he shrugged, "this is a combined anti-biotic and fungal. I want to see you back here in a few days." He held out the tube.
Shaw grabbed it and pocketed it quickly.
"Then everything's good?"
"Is it?" He asked, taking a step back and reaching behind him from his tablet computer. He popped out the stylus and began writing, letting his eyes move between her and the screen. "Captain? There are other health care professionals in the fleet."
Baring her teeth, she sneered, "I don't need a fraking shrink."
She shot up from the table and grabbed her tank tops and not wanting Roberts to stop her, slid them over her petite frame and then looked at him, bragging with her sparkling eyes and little lip smirk she had defied him. Then the sparkle and smirk faded when she realized he didn't care one frak what she did.
He opened his mouth when there was a short double knock at the door.
Roberts looked puzzled but Shaw knew who it was.
"Yes... I'm with a patient," he shouted at the door, over his shoulder. Rolling his eyes at the lack of a reply he opened it slightly. While he had a slightly better bedside manner than Galactica's Chief Medical Officer, that wasn't saying much. He did value patient privacy. "Oh, Admiral." He stepped back an instant later as she stepped forward, not caring one bit about the doctor's views on patient privacy. "I'll um… give you a minute."
Without argument he vacated his own domain and without a word spoken by Admiral Cain, left the room and closed the door.
Even at this late hour, nearly 0200 ship time, Cain wore an immaculate uniform, her hair perfectly straight and coming just over her shoulders, and her eyes radiating power and an acute awareness towards the status of her subordinate.
"Admiral… sir…" Shaw stiffened to attention.
"At ease, captain," Cain said with closed eyes. Her left heel dragged on the floor until it was nearer the right, then she stepped off and paced two steps to the corner of the room and grabbed the sink. She looked down the stainless steel wash basin and watched her reflection on the metal. Cain studied her own reflected movements as she thought what to say, as she prepared herself. "What were you thinking down there?" She asked, watching her mouth move in her reflection. "I'm not an idiot. There are three things that occur on a military ship; gambling, fraking, and gossip. I'm the Gods damn admiral. I still hear the gossip." Her fingers tightened until the tips were blanched and a dull ache shot up her fingers into her arms.
"I just wanted to be by myself, sir… after what happened… what day it is… was." She said without wavering. Even with the Admiral's back to her she was ramrod straight and eyes locked forward. There was no 'at ease' here.
The Admiral eased up and released the wash basin and turned around.
Shaw, already a short and petite woman, felt even smaller under the dark eyes of The Admiral.
"Are you still a razor, captain?"
Shaw felt a wave of bitter disappointment radiated from her chest through her body and she cursed herself to Hades for her callous mental dismissal of the Admiral's questions.
"We don't have the luxury of feeling sorry for ourselves. We're at war." Cain spat with self-righteous indignation. She wagged her finger at Shaw. "Don't think I didn't see this… and I'm not talking about…" even she had difficult saying the ship's name.
"Scylla… sir," Shaw said quietly.
"Yes… thank you," she tilted her head to the left and narrowed the same eye. "The ship…-" Shaw realized Cain would never say it by name- "this is being taken care of. This… the ship… your feelings over it I can understand. Gods, you don't think…" she leaned it, looking the captain up and down angrily, "I don't have regrets over what we did? I'm not a fraking monster, captain. I'll justify my actions to the Gods, but not to you." She hissed. Cain swirled around, debating whether to leave or not. Cain swallowed hard- her pride- and turned back around. "I understand how you feel," she said softly nu her voice grew harder with resolve and fired determination, "but we're at war, captain. We're still at war- don't lose sight of that."
"Maybe that's why?" Shaw asked.
"Why what, captain?" Cain eyes her curiously.
"I shot him, Donald, sir. After he shot at me I shot him and I killed him. Another one," she said, eyes locked forward on the Admiral's chest.
"He tried to kill you." Cain immediately countered. "He slipped on the rocks and died."
"So maybe that's why," the captain repeated as she unconsciously ignored the Admiral's defense of her actions.
"Is that the reason? Guilt?" Cain demanded as she reached in and took out her red-handled knife. It had been hers for decades, since the Cylon War. Feeling it in her pocket ever day was a constant reminder to not be weak. "I've let a lot of things slide on this ship… again my better judgment. My XO is married to my CAG and other crew members are in relationships three years ago would have gotten them kicked out."
Her words were forced out from between a sternly clenched jaw.
Admiral Cain pulled back her hair, revealing the scars from her torture on New Caprica by the Cylons.
"Do you see these?" She asked. Cain used the handle of the blade to point at the deep scars on her neck and side of her face. Months of Cylon torture were present; deep scars, a crushed hand which still hand trouble grasping at times, and broken legs. "Every day, captain… I'm reminded of what happened. My own failures in allowing this fleet to settle on New Caprica…"
She didn't have to respond.
Cain pushed her hair back so most of it was over the front of her shoulders. She used to hook most of it behind her ears but was now wearing it forward (and had grown her hair a few extra centimeters) to conceal the scares.
Shaw's eyes followed one of the scars still visible down until it disappeared behind the Admiral's long hair and into her collar. She wondered who the Admiral talked to? Was it her? Now. Maybe, she thought, they both needed this.
"We each have our own demons, captain." She said, looking past Shaw and into the corner, eyes glazed. She held up the knife. Pressed between thumb and index finger. "You don't know, but I found this on the last day of the Cylon War… I was hiding, in a cargo container, picked it up, afraid, when a Centurion found me." She looked at the captain and her glazed eyes softened almost like a mother would look at a child. "I lost my sister that day… and my mother and my father. We lived the entire war on Tauron. A quarter of Tauron wiped out, reduced to rubble, and we survived… I survived, only to have them taken from me in the last five minutes of the war."
She held up her other hand, her five fingers extended, palm facing the captain. Shaw could see some of the fingers didn't extend fully- her hand had been smashed on New Caprica.
"The last five minutes." She repeated solemnly. "Five minutes."
"I… I didn't know, sir."
"The Cylons surrendered five minutes after my family was killed." She snapped the blade out. "This is what we have to be, Shaw. I told you before, but this is who we are. We're razors." She narrowed her eyes at the young captain. "If we forget that… we can't lose the will to fight. Because that's what we are now: fighters." Cain snapped the blade back in and walked to the side of Shaw, shoulder-to-shoulder, staring at the back wall while Shaw stared at the front. "Sometimes the Gods chose… maybe we have to give up our happiness, our humanity so we can keep others from losing theirs and making the hard decisions. It's something we're chosen for. Is it fair?" She shook her head. "Many things in life are never fair, Captain. Our fate may be chosen for us, captain, but how we get there is up to us."
She didn't hesitate in expression her frustration, anger, and maybe even resentment towards the Admiral. "Sometimes it's not enough, sir… sometimes… I see them every day, the gun, the smoke, the faces and people just fraking still as statues, can't believing I did that." Her right eye glistened from moisture.
There was no way, no way Shaw could see, that anyone could be what the Admiral was trying to make her become. In those few minutes Shaw felt every emotion possible towards the Admiral from hate and fear to love an admiration. She saw Cain as her mentor and here she was demanding… she couldn't even say it to herself, couldn't admit that she had lost her humanity so long ago and was now just moving through the motions.
She felt a hand on her shoulder.
"If you need to talk later, captain…" Cain said, giving her shoulder a tight squeeze. "You can stay on Pegasus or return to the planet, it's up to you. But remember, captain, it isn't our fate that defines us. It's what we do on the path to our fate."
Shaw nodded and stood there and watched the Admiral leave. Doctor Roberts didn't come back in for her. She had no idea how long she stood there, staring at the cold, gray metallic walls.
||||||||||==Colonial One==||||||||||
Admiral Cain motioned for her Marine guards to stand fast as she hopped down from the Raptor's wing tip onto the hard landing bay of the Colonial 'capitol'- a twenty-two year old star liner designed originally for day trips and FTL hops within the Twelve Colonies.
A Presidential Security Service agent, plain clothes, stood half a dozen steps back from her. Cain could see the small bulge where his shoulder holster was concealed and underneath his shirt, the thin armored vest he was attempting to hide.
"Admiral, good morning," the president's aide, Billy, said with a harsh tone indicating that this morning was far from 'good.' He came up and offered his hand, which the Admiral graciously accepted. "The President is waiting."
Before she could speak Billy turned on his heels. Cain tucked her head and snorted, loud enough for only her own ears to hear. The nervous, awkward, and boyish aide had changed after New Caprica.
The walk was short; Colonial One was a small ship, and quiet. The Quorum was on Cloud 9 for committee meetings this entire weeks and much of Roslin's staff was distributed to a dozen of the larger civilian ships which were serving as primary and secondary distribution hubs for the processed algae.
Admiral Cain allowed Billy to open the door for her, and he stood back as she moved past. She heard a click as it closed. The two walked on opposite sides of the large conference table the Quorum used and into a second compartment before walking back to the President's office. Roslin was busy at work, her head and eyes jumping from one paper to the next to another.
"Thank you Billy. Admiral Cain." Roslin said not bothering to look up. She simply stated her guest's name. No greeting, no pleasantries.
Admiral Cain elicited to remain silent.
"Please have a seat." She said in a pleasant voice. Coming from her it was unmistakably an order.
Cain did so. She would play this game with the President. Her curiosity at what the president wanted at 0745 in the morning had overridden her need to question the President before complying.
The last Colonial Admiral waited patiently in the leather seat slightly off-center of President Roslin's desk. She sat a little closer to the right arm rest than the center of the chair so she could see the center of the fleet from her position. Cain looked back when she heard a shuffling of papers and the popping of a pen cap back on.
"The incident on the planet," Roslin said to the point. She folded her hands at the edge of her desk and kept her glasses on. "Can you explain what happened?"
The Admiral wasn't surprised in the least that the President had already heard, nor that she had been called. Summoed, Cain considered, was the more appropriate word for this.
Cain came to Colonial One only when absolutely necessary; the woman opposite her was impossible to work with, from her point of view. Initial hostilities and trespasses had yet to be forgiven. By either of them.
She could already feel the tension building and the passive-aggressiveness of Roslin's attitude. She didn't let the casual, almost professional tone of Roslin's first question blind her to the fact that this was, when it came down to it, her enemy.
Cain crossed her legs and leaned back and stroked her chin. "What is there to discuss?" She turned the question back. "A man was drunk and he attacked one of the machines."
Roslin shuffled under a pile of manila file folders and placed it on her desk and quietly opened it. It had two sheets of unstapled paper in them in Pegasus stationary. She held it up and Cain only had to glance at it to know what was sitting on the President's desk.
The President let her eyes move slowly so as not to lock in silent battle with her opposite. She gave Cain three seconds before looking at her face and saw the smug arrogance had been washed clean. The blood from the Admiral's face, a natural light pink, was almost a white.
As either a testament or black mark on Cain's character, her self-confidence returned quickly and her face was one again its natural color.
"He attacked the machine?" Roslin repeated and her mimicry laced with skepticism. "A machine invulnerable to pistol bullets?" The President offered the Admiral an obviously patronizing smile.
Cain ignored the smile and callously waved away her counter-point. "The man was drunk."
Roslin looked at Cain like she was an idiot. Did Cain really believe she could sell something like that to her? Or to the press?
"This 'drunken man' was one of the men taken from the civilian fleet Pegasus encountered a week after the destruction of the Colonies," Roslin stated. She handed the file to Billy who took it and disappeared behind the curtain from the President. "Not many people have seen those two sheets of paper." Her eyebrows raised and eyes slightly widened as if she had asked a question and was waiting for the Admiral's response. "But you took nearly two hundred. Something was bound to get out."
Her cryptic, vague statement would have been lost on anyone other than Admiral Cain.
Cain stiffened in her seat and looked away before slowly turning her head back to the president. Any remaining shred of civility was gone and in its place was a soldier ready for mortal combat.
"No." Cain replied and shifting her weight to the center of the chair, continued. "But let's cut the passive-aggressiveness. I've never been too good at it and it's terribly cliché."
"One of your officers… Captain Kendra Shaw, fired upon and killed one woman, possible more, and Pegasus Marines opened fire and killed nine others onboard the heavy freighter Scylla." Roslin stated with no emotion. She felt cold delivering such a statement about the actions of a Colonial officer. "This man, Leonard Crowns, was one of the men taken from Scylla, one of their ship mechanics. Some people said he was asking if living on the planet was survivable-"
"So?" Cain hissed.
"It means, Admiral, he was out for revenge. How does a drunken man able to overpower a Marine with a quarter meter and twenty kilos on him?" Roslin shook her head. "He wasn't drunk. And he was planning to run."
Cain held her tongue. She hadn't expected to be summoned by the President let alone presented with information she herself had received only five hours ago. But there had been a dozen Raptors and shuttles moving between the base camp and the fleet since the incident and rumors spread quickly.
She could control the military and keep them from spreading rumors. And the Centurions down there wouldn't say anything. There were, however, as many civilians down there as there were military personnel. And Cain knew those civilians wouldn't care- they would spread rumors before she could stop them.
"He wanted revenge, Admiral." Roslin attempted to graciously fill in. The statement came off as entirely condescending.
"Yes, thank you," Cain angrily said through a clenched jaw. "But what is it you want, madam President?"
The condescending tone was returned in full and Cain began her own offensive. The conversation was already falling into the abyss.
"There are reports circulating already on the wireless. People are talking about this, about the cover-up of the rumors-"
"Not talking about it is not covering it up," Cain retorted. Roslin gave her the eye. "The matter has been resolved-"
Roslin motioned down with her hand and cut off the Admiral from speaking and further denying what had occurred under her orders.
"No, it hasn't, Admiral. Not now." Roslin waved away her lacking dismissal and took off her glasses. "Two and a half years ago when you joined the fleet within a day we already heard the rumors of what happened… and let's just leave those rumors to Scylla and the civilian fleet?" The subtext was clear to Cain and Roslin saw she had speared her by dragging up the specter of the past. She kept twisting. "These would be considered crimes. And we're still operating under Colonial law, Admiral. Nothing has been resolved. What happened on the planet…" she shook her head slowly in disapproval not just at yesterday evening's event but at her own lack of decisiveness.
"Colonial Law, madam President?" Cain chuckled. "I was operating under the assumption the Colonies had been wiped out, that Pegasus was the only surviving battlestar. Our civilian government was gone. So… military regulations, based on Colonial Law, madam President, gave me broad authority." She paused. "Broad authority." She repeated.
The rumors concerning Scylla and the entire civilian fleet should have been dealt with shortly after Cain's arrival. The Battle of the Resurrection Ship had made her popular in the fleet.
People were willing to overlook the rumors of what Pegasus had done early during the war. Then they had been distracted as leaks had spread about the three Terminators.
The President held back and quickly ran through a mental checklist of Cain's enemies. There was Zarek, with whom Roslin had no doubt Cain shared nothing in common with politically with the exception of a dislike for her. A few of the civilian ship captains had complained about her, some quite vehemently and still did, for her heavy handed tactics and keeping law and order. She put the needs of the military first. But there were no enemies she could use against Cain.
The only man with enough credibility within the fleet was the Commander. Roslin knew he was more popular, more fair than Helena Cain. He'd saved them at Ragnar, New Caprica, and led them through this food crisis. But somehow, Roslin didn't know when or how, Cain and Adama had ceased being enemies. The initial distrust, dislike, and contempt each had worn on their sleeve for the other was gone…
That particular idea almost sickened the president.
She blinked once and lazily looked up at the Admiral and pushed a lock of hair back behind her ear when she heard the commanding, daring voice of the woman challenge her.
"What happened on the planet was a drunken man who attacked a Marine, took his sidearm, and shot at one of the machines… he has the bullet holes and witness to attest to that." Cain repeated. A half-truth was far more powerful than a lie. There was enough there to make it hold up. Roslin's face was set in stone and Cain knew she wanted blood. "In fact, we believe he may have blamed the machines for what happened to Pegasus. I have four witnesses already prepared to give testimony that this man wanted to destroy the machines and blamed them for Gina's rampage. One of his friends was a mechanic she killed."
Cain felt something running through her, something… strange, almost vile, disgusting, disturbing, at the ease she used Gina's name and the casualness of smearing the broken Cylon's name through the metaphorical mud.
No matter.
That was the past. The… recent past… but the past. And the Cylon was a thing and had proven its disloyalty time and again.
She straightened, mentally, and dug her chin into her chest for this battle with Roslin. Gina was a traitor, a thing, and if her own sad existence and violent death could do some sort of good, no matter how perverted that good may be, so be it.
"That is what you're going to say?" Roslin asked in stunned disbelief. "That this-"
"That? You sound as if I am lying, madam President." She put her hand on her chest and feigned insult. She looked the president in the eye. "I am an officer in the Colonial fleet. The last surviving flag officer and commander of our military remnant. I do this to protect this… this fleet of seventy thousand… this civilization. This is the last of our civilization… and if we ever make it to Earth we will need to be strong to make sure we are not forced into cultural extinction."
"That's right," Roslin answered, "you're a military commander. And I am the president. And the protection of this fleet is my priority."
"Madam President." Cain said to verbally reinforce President Roslin's statement but mentally patronize her.
They exchanged dirty looks.
"Which means I am commander-in-chief and have the legal authority in this fleet as my office entitles me to," she expanded. She spoke slowly, like she was talking not to a Colonial admiral but to a mentally deficient cavewoman.
Cain did not have to think long to understand what this 'legal authority' President Roslin was referring to. The Admiral trusted the Colonial judicial system in the fleet about as much as she could throw Pegasus- which wouldn't be too far, she thought, even if her bad back wasn't acting up.
She knew this woman opposite her, behind her desk, a former school teacher, could not challenge her. That would tear the fleet apart and Cain knew Adama and Avion would not bite if the President cast her line for allies.
After the murder of Lt. Thorne, Cain had been ready to fire upon Galactica as she tried to send Marines into Pegasus to retrieve then Lt. Agathon and Chief Tyrol. Cain knew her relationship with Adama had moved forward steadily since then and she dared even consider him a friend. Perhaps not a friend, but not an enemy.
She knew Major Avion hadn't been corrupted by the President and her incessant need for control. Cain wasn't worried one bit about Roslin influencing the Helios commander.
President Roslin had played her hand horribly when dealing with Avion, Cain had heard, and all but alienated him as an ally over his supposed adherence to the monotheistic faith popular among the Helios survivors.
While she objected strongly to his religious preferences she wasn't going to make an issue out of it.
"Legal authority, madam President? I earned this," she grabbed her collar and shoved at her rear admiral insignias, "and I didn't have to make a… legal loophole… maneuver to get back the presidency. Zarek makes you his VP and then resigns?" She snorted and had to look behind her and breathed out slowly. Cain could feel her heart beginning to race and the adrenaline flowing through her veins. "I can't believe that was even allowed. Don't lecture me on the points of Colonial law."
"Your failure concerning Scylla has tied me hand, Admiral. I wouldn't have to lecture you on the finer points of Colonial law if you obeyed Colonial law in the first place." Roslin had to bite down to keep from exploding at what she saw as the obstinate, irritating, and supremely arrogant woman, and unfortunately the ranking fleet officer, across from her. "She shot civilians."
Cain stood and moved closer to the desk.
"That's close enough, Admiral." Roslin warned.
Cain rammed her hands onto the desk. "This fleet has survived because hard decisions have been made," she said quietly. "I made those decisions. Don't lecture me on Colonial law when you so gratuitously ignored it when it pleased you."
Roslin stood, the back of her knees pushing out her chair, and grabbed her glasses. She kept them clutched in her hand before dropping them back on the desk. "This is out of my hands."
"Excuses." Cain waved it off. She grinned, raised herself to her full height over Roslin and pushed off from the desk. "You want to go after me?" She licked her lips as she folded her arms, amused. "Is that what you want? To finally remove me? That's been your goal since day one, Madam President."
"You covered up what happened, Admiral, you swept it under the rug and ignored it and it came back. It came back suddenly, furiously, and without any warning." She held steady as she dug into the Admiral. "And it could happen again and again and slowly dig away at the core of this fleet. Someone must be held accountable."
"I won't sacrifice anyone as a lamb to be slaughtered by wolves," Cain almost spat. "I have a fleet to run… maybe you forgot, but there are millions of Cylons chasing us across the galaxy?"
"And you want to abandon our principles… and be like the Cylons?"
She dared to compare a woman who hated the Cylons just as much as her to their common foe. At that point Roslin was forced to ask herself if she was going too far?
"Is that what you think?" Cain growled. Roslin nodded and Cain shot back, back rigid, paced to the window and stared out into the fleet. "Do you see it out there? " She twirled back around; her finger poised towards the dry erase board on the President's left. "Do you see that number? If I had been 'like the Cylons' I would have ordered the fleet to jump away from New Caprica and never settled there." Her eyes narrowed as she approached the President's desk again. Her body seething with rage she said, "If I had been more like a Cylon we wouldn't have been put through that hell." She turned back, one hand attempting to rest on an absent pistol grip. "And you? Don't lecture me about being like a Cylon. Don't lecture me on law. You're just as guilty. Summary executions… Olympic Carrier…"
"Olympic Carrier… how dare you," Roslin answered. For years she had questioned what she'd co-ordered. But the ship had to be empty, it had to be. It had been gone for so long… had nukes aboard… the Cylons had slaughtered everyone. "The Cylons slaughtered the crew and were going to nuke the fleet."
"Hmph!" Cain dismissed the rebuttal. "Are you trying to justify what you did to me?" She clicked her teeth together. "Gideon, madam president."
"There were no orders to kill people. That was a mistake. Never intentional!" Roslin growled.
"And no one punished."
Roslin didn't answer immediately. "I'm the president and you're a subordinate, Admiral. Whether you agreed with how I…" she checked a list of words and decided, "became president it was legal. I am your commander. You will respect that," she said calmly, evenly. In truth she was a centimeter away from threatening to arrest the Admiral. "Leonard Crowns. Captain Kendra Shaw was-"
"Not attacked. Bishop was."
The President held her breath and had a hand on her desk and over her stomach. She played her next hand. "Hand over Captain Shaw. She acted without orders." Roslin offered. "And it will end there."
"How dare you," Cain managed to say as the shock of the suggestion hit her. She wasn't an idiot. "How dare you suggest that… I will not betray my soldiers."
And it was obvious to Cain Roslin would use this to discredit her; show she would betray her officers for self-preservation.
"The connection has been made, Admiral, between Shaw, Crowns, and Scylla-"
The Admiral raised her hand quickly to cut off the President. Slowly, Cain explained. "The man was a drunk. One of his friends was killed when Gina escaped. He blamed the machines. He attacked Carter. There are witnesses who will swear to this. The events of Scylla have nothing to do with this."
"How can you justify… this? Cover this up?" Roslin demanded, stepping from behind her desk.
A flicker of disgust appeared on the tip of Cain's lip, and a tick of the head was enough to show the president the Admiral was done. Admiral Cain took a step back and turned and walked to the door when she stopped. With her back to the president she turned slightly, until she could just make out the President from the corner of her eye.
"I don't have to justify myself to you."
||||||||||==BS-62 Pegasus==||||||||||
"Admiral Cain," John Planck recited as an announcement of his presence as he quietly stepped into the Admiral's quarters.
He had been quietly summoned from the planet a little over an hour ago and upon arriving aboard Pegasus had quickly showered and changed into a fresh uniform and boots. Planck pulled down at his jacket as he waited for the admiral to acknowledge his presence.
She had a small glass of an orange-red alcohol in her hand and was standing over a set of logs, her eyes moving slowly left to right, left to right as she studied and committed each letter to memory.
"Thank you for coming, John." She walked over to where she kept her alcohol and poured herself a drink. With her back to him she took a sip. "I know, it's what… about oh nine hundred?" She sighed and took another sip. "I'd offer you-"
"Please, thank you," she heard.
Closing her eyes she cursed herself for even suggesting it and cursed herself again for forgetting the machines could consume food and drink. For their infiltration. Reluctantly she snatched another glass from the side of the cocktail cart and poured him a (small) glass.
"Thank you," he said as she handed the drink to him. He followed her to a slightly higher than waist-high table. Setting the glass down with a subdued clank he turned his attention to the admiral. "So Leonard Crowns was a drunk who had a vendetta against us?"
"Did you know this man at all?" Cain asked. She pulled up a file on the large viewing monitor behind Planck and nodded for him to look behind him. He glanced back at the screen and assumed he'd committed it to memory. "I'll be blunt…" she hummed after a pause, "I was going to refer to you by rank, but you've never told me."
"You wish to convey superiority. Use rank to establish your dominance, imply what you are about to say are orders without making them so," John observed. "That won't be necessary, Admiral."
She watched as he took a sip of the liquor.
"It won't be?" She rubbed her head to clear it and then brought the glass up to her lips but paused. "Why not?" She wondered, lowering the glass.
"While we've disagreed in the past, Admiral, I think we've come to an understanding," he pointed at her and then himself, "you and I. Distrust and revulsion… to a mutual respect, perhaps?" he looked over at her collection of antique Colonial firearms. "Despite what Daniel did and what happened this last month-"
"It does seem like all the drama… problems we've been having seemed to revolve around the AIs." She grinned to show it was her attempt at a joke. Cain assumed Planck played along from his shrug. She laughed and looked down with a little grin. "I take it you've heard the rumors?"
She was serious now but did try and see a little humor in this. As strange as it was she felt slightly at ease talking with the machines, more than any of her subordinates. She saw two protégés in Starbuck and Shaw, and even somehow in Apollo, but there was always that line of military discipline which could never be crossed. Cain forced herself to be The Admiral. The little display of her self-admitted more gentle side had been about as gentle and sappy as she wanted to be.
Cain would never consider herself an emotional woman and never identified with women who were so clingy and wore their emotions on their sleeves. Sharing her past with Captain Shaw a few hours ago in the medical bay had been a fine dance right to that line she told herself she wouldn't cross.
With the machines though, Planck more than the others, she could admit to having developed a strange relationship.
"There are a lot of rumors, but I assume the ones between Bishop and Shaw." He sipped his drink and then chugged the last bits. He knew humans did this when annoyed or exhausted over some dilemma. "Yes, I've heard. I'm not oblivious. It's interesting."
"That's not quite the word I would use for it." Cain added.
"It's not uncommon."
Admiral Cain didn't have anything to say to that particular statement.
"It's not?" She asked as her interest piqued.
"It's not. But I should amend what I said about it not being uncommon. It's not common, either. I don't have experience on the matter between inter-species… relationships so I cannot be of assistance."
"Wait… Blanks… isn't your callsign, so you must have-"
"I was a Raptor pilot. Pilots do three things; gamble, drink, and frak." He cut her off as she opened her mouth. "It involves… shooting. Apparently one should keep such things to oneself. That's all I'll say on the matter."
She snorted at that. She looked down burned her chin in her chest to keep the machine from seeing her try and hold back the laughter. It probably made sense. 'Shooting blanks'… 'Blanks'. The machines no doubt had the capabilities to frak, she considered, but here just basically skin and some muscle. They had nothing to physically 'shoot' out during the… she didn't want to think about it anymore or how anyone had found out to give him that callsign.
And then she realized this course was taking the conversation dangerously close to a place she didn't want to be. She didn't want to stay on the subject. She ran her hands towards the edge of the table and off and took her drink and stopped in front of the image of Leonard Crowns still on the wall display. She moved her head back and forth as she examined him; average looking, brown eyes, short blonde hair, some chin stubble, and a little chubby at the cheeks, he wasn't much to look at.
"He was one of the selectees aboard Scylla." She said after the tense moment of silence.
"Yes."
"We already have autopsy results," Cain resumed, still staring at the picture. "Doctor Roberts ran some toxicology… he was drunk. Ridiculously so. Point one-seven blood alcohol volume… a high BAV under any circumstance."
"Was he really drunk?"
Planck cut right to the obvious truth- he'd already questioned Carter- and could see it disturb the Admiral, his question.
Cain closed her eyes and breathed in to calm herself. Opening her eyes she pressed the red 'off' switch for the monitor and turned to the machine. "No." She tilted her head. "No, he wasn't. I just met with the President."
"So that explains it," the machine said with a smile. He pointed at the glass.
She was confused for a moment, thinking he was referring to Crowns, until she saw him pointing at the glass.
"Ah, yes, this," she nodded at it and grabbed it, shook the almost-empty glass, and then let it fall a little too hard to the table. It didn't tip over though. "The President implied there needed to be an accounting… that talk wireless and the news service will be all over this."
"You don't listen to the wireless in here."
"Not usually."
"I've been monitoring the bands. They're waiting for an official statement."
"I won't sacrifice any of my officers to a court of public opinion."
"So one my mine?"
"No… no." She affirmed. "Crowns will be presented as irrational, drunk. There will be no blame laid on you. Gi…" she had a hard time saying the name, "Gina escaped due to the problems affecting Pegasus."
"And what were those 'problems' Admiral?"
"I'll need your assistance. When we went to salvage nuclear missiles from the Cylon fleet one of the baseships transmitted a virus to us. The programs you installed successfully destroyed the virus but it did damage to our network, forcing us to jump, and integrated into life support. If we purged it we could have stopped jumping but the ship would have vented and lost life support."
Planck considered it for a moment. "How long have you been thinking of that scenario?"
"Since the hybrid jumped the ship. We can't reveal we have a hybrid aboard and Colonial ships just don't randomly jump, Planck." She tapped the side of her thigh and waited. "And the President is not an ally of either of us. I've gone along with many of your schemes against my better judgment."
"I owe you one?" He asked. "You're calling in your favor."
"You make it sound like I only have one favor to call in." She motioned for him to look around. "I don't have enough fingers to count the number of times I've gone along with a plan involving AI, robots, or your long shot ideas… like right now, over this algae planet, searching for a displacement array you think must be here because a hybrid gave you some vision."
"…yes… we do owe you, and I owe you more than one favor, Admiral. Even though what I've done has helped this fleet… even with the hybrid- we found this planet full of algae."
She eyed him and he just raised his eyebrows. "President Roslin has been hoping to put this fleet back under the command of Commander Adama since I found it. Don't get me wrong," she made a stop sign with her hand while the other rested, of course, on her thigh above where her pistol would be, "our relationship, Adama and I, was rocky from the beginning-"
"But you two understand each other now."
"Exactly."
"The President still sees him as the fleet commander despite the fleet adding new ships and you being in command longer. She trusts him more… they get along." He said. "You had that civilian coordination network installed on Galactica to placate the President."
"Yes."
"And now she sees a way to discredit you. Bring up Scylla… and yes, we've heard the rumors." The machine moved off towards the side. "When we're built our builders uploaded psychological files and we are continually upgraded with new knowledge… we're good at picking out rumors. A rumor implies falsehood. Scylla, what happened aboard that ship is anything but a rumor, Admiral."
"I read the logs on what happened after Gideon and it was on the verge of tearing this fleet apart. I won't let that happen." She breathed in and out and looked over at the machine. Cain was getting better at reading their body language but right now it was just a blank slate. "I don't do regrets or apologies, John, and I won't do it for what I thought was right at the time."
"You don't have to justify yourself to me, Admiral. We've all done certain things we thought were necessary… sometimes Skynet used human shields- hundreds of human prisoners, former Resistance fighters, our own soldiers, and stuck them in factories and transportation hubs." He paused. "We still had to attack." His eyes locked with her- she knew that something was coming- and he said, "But I think what happened a week after the Cylon attack between Pegasus and the fleet isn't the same as what we were forced to do on Earth. There was a choice."
"Like I said, I won't do 'sorry's' and regrets, Planck."
"Realization is not regret, Admiral."
She felt a flicker, a twitch radiate her right side and to her eye. "What I called you in for, Planck, is to tell you what will happen. Leonard Crowns. The toxicology report says he was drunk. He overpowered a Marine guard and was heard by various crewmembers earlier in the day asking about survivability on the planet. He took the pistol from the Marines and stalked after Carter and shot him. He attempted to flee and slipped on the algae covered rocks and hit his head."
He paused. "Very well, we'll help you. Excessive consumption of alcohol can lead humans to do… stupid things," John observed. "And his connection to Scylla?"
"An omission is not a lie…" she lowered her voice, "despite what Roslin thinks." She considered her words carefully. "I need to know if you will accept this and tell Carter to as well."
"Carter will of course accept this."
"…good…" she sounded insincere in her acceptance of John's word.
"Do you think you can cover this up?" Planck asked, genuinely curious. He'd been involved in many cover-ups on Earth, but those had been planned, though a few had been spur of the moment. They had always been for the 'good of the Resistance.' Cover-ups were sometimes necessary, he knew, despite their negative effects. "The more who know, Admiral, the harder this will be."
"I trust my soldiers, Planck. And I will stand by my soldiers and will not hand them over due to public opinion. Can this fleet handle a crisis like this? I don't think they can. We've had in easy after New Caprica… compared to how it could have been. The Guardians repaired our fleet but the star cluster caused more damage. Pegasus disappeared for the better part of a month, or food stocks were contaminated, there are fleets of Cylon baseships out there, the Guardians have largely vanished- assumed destroyed- and we're not sure we're closer to Earth or even heading in the right direction." Cain crossed her arms. "I think that sums up our problems. So I need to know if you'll support this decision, Planck."
"You brought me in here… why are you giving me a choice in the matter? You've made up your mind. You will go through with this no matter what I say, Admiral." Planck cautiously objected. "You're playing to-"
"You're a machine, a what… hyper advanced AI? Neural net processor?" A devious little smirk appeared accompanied by a little shimmer of sly realization. "I called you here and told you how I see this, Planck. It's a courtesy… and it will help the fleet and me… and I've supported you. And we won't have to reveal the hybrid, either. And…" she sounded reluctant, "you all are good at keeping secrets and finding flaws. I may need your advice if this cover up unravels."
Planck weighed the options for the last time. This fleet had just survived a crisis but bringing up the past would be a new crisis they would create- not from their circumstances, but of their own volition. Holding someone accountable would be impossible without Admiral Cain losing all credibility; she could not just hand over Captain Shaw.
"The fleet has survived crises before."
"Just because it has," she said, "doesn't mean we should create a new one. Not if we can stop it. And especially if it is politically motivated… President Roslin… she's a product of the Adar Administration… even if that administration ended three years ago. She began her political career by his side. He used similar tactics in the Colonies." She sighed. "Roslin would have us sit here engaged in academic debate while the worlds burn to rationalize her own hypocrisy. We don't have that luxury. We have to act and do what is required of us, and what is necessary." She said firmly. "What you have told me, Planck, about your past… you understand this completely… how many people have died so more could live under your orders?"
"This isn't about me Admiral… and you are straddling the line." She looked at him, slight confusion washing over her face. He explained. "If you have to justify what you did it means you feel some sort of regret… and what I've done doesn't matter, Admiral." He took a step forward and his chest pushed up and back down as he simulated a heavy, quiet sigh. "You know my motivations. What I do I do for Earth. I have been a member of this fleet for four and a half years but my home is and always will be Earth."
"That you have made crystal clear in the past, Planck. What you do is for Earth," Cain slowly repeated. "What I do is for the Colonies."
"They are not mutually exclusive."
"No." Cain accepted the observation. "The goals of Earth and the Colonies are not mutually exclusive."
"You had my support the moment you proposed this Admiral," John said, unprompted. The mood lightened and the building tension all but vanished in a blink of an eye. "We've grown to trust you and I believe you trust us despite what happened this last month. So you will have my support and the support of my subordinates." He bowed his head slightly off to the side. "I do appreciate you extending the courtesy to at least… consider including me in the decision, even if your mind was made up." He smiled to tell her he was being facetious.
"You're welcome. And thank you, John," she added lightly. "Our goals are the same. For the Colonies and-"
"For Earth." He finished.
AN: Thanks to Visi0nary and Wired Dragoon (Posbi) for the help with this chapter. And Rastamon for running ideas past him, too.
I apologize for it taking so long. The original chapter was going to be about Guardians and Cylons, but it just didn't seem to want to come together. Part of what I had originally intended for 30 will come up in 31. Most of what happens in this chapter will be dealt with in Part III.
As the story nears completion I appreciate any reviews on how it has been progressing and general thoughts as well. It's a really long story at 270,000+ words so reviews are very much appreciated (less than two a chapter so far...- they are always appreciated). (And thank you to those who have!) They always help and suggestions/constructive criticisms will help in writing Part III. There are two, possibly three more chapters. Character(s) will die.
Also I will start posting those 'webisode' short stories on New Caprica and the Terminators soon. The working title is We Were Built to Kill. I'll probably post them in the crossover section and this one when completed to go along with The Mission... and some other stuff.
I guess the story about Omega Team won out. So I'll be getting that done before Part III. Part III will probably involve the words 'destiny' and/or 'fate' in the title.
And yes, this Carter is the Carter from the TSCC episode Heavy Metal (there'll be some more on his past later). It was probably fairly obvious, but that was the scene I was waiting to write it.
Thanks, I hope you enjoyed. So please review and let me know!