Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica belongs to Ronald D. Moore and the Sci-Fi channel. This is Cottle and Sorenson's chapter for the most part.
Chapter 13: Of Cyborgs and men
If anyone had told Morgana Sorenson a month ago that she would willingly board a strange ship and fly out into space, she would have laughed in their faces. She held a small green travel bag with the vaccines she had promised in one hand and a bulky square bag that resembled a camera bag looped over one shoulder. Helo landed the Raptor and opened the door.
"Ma'am, the admiral wanted me to pick you up," he mentioned.
Morgana took a deep breath. "Fine. Let's go then."
As she entered, Helo pointed to the seatbelts. "You'll want to fasten yourself in."
She watched her world grow smaller as they took off and pierced the atmosphere. She could not withhold the gasp as she beheld the fleet. Everything felt massive to her. "Are these your ships?"
"Not mine in particular, ma'am. You're looking at the fleet," he answered.
After the Raptor docked, the door opened to reveal a young woman with her dark hair pulled back in a ponytail. She smiled politely at the doctor. "You must be Dr. Sorenson. I'm Lieutenant Dualla. Most people call me 'Dee.'"
Morgana nodded. "I assume you'll be taking me to Life Station?"
The younger woman smirked. "I wouldn't put it that way. I'll be escorting you to Life Station."
"Of course. Please lead the way," Morgana responded with a small smile.
As they walked along the metallic hallways, Morgana observed the gray-brown and gray-blue metals, wondering if they were made of elements on the Periodic Table, or if more needed to be added to the Table. As they passed people doing everything from sitting down to eat, to smoking, to rushing by on some sort of errand, to a group of marines in a training exercise, Morgana began to realize just how many people that this other fleet needed help with.
Dee paused just outside the double doors. "Well, this is my stop."
"Thank you, Lieutenant. I would've gotten lost if I had to find this place on my own. The ship is bigger than I had expected," Morgana stated.
"You're welcome, ma'am," Dee replied as sauntered off down one of the hallways to Morgana could only guess where.
She pushed a door open and stepped inside. Instantly she found herself staring in a mixture of amazement and apprehension as the staff rushed around Life Station. The staff only consisted of one or two nurses and Cottle himself, tending to at least twenty serious cases. Morgana walked over to him as he stopped by a counter to look for medication.
"Busy day?" she asked.
"Normal day," he replied.
Lightly resting a hand on his arm, she spoke. "No. A normal day is when you get twenty patients and half of them have colds. So far I haven't seen anything less than a compound fracture up here, and I haven't been in this room for more than twenty minutes."
"It's life right now, and we deal with it as best we can," he commented, pulling a drawer out. He found a pill bottle in the next drawer.
She shook her head, sighing. "You are ridiculously understaffed. I will look into the matter and see if I can give you some of my people. And as for medication, I will give you whatever you need."
He raised an eyebrow. "That sounds an awful lot like charity."
"Think of it as a medical alliance," she retaliated.
Cottle glanced over his shoulder at the medical zoo behind him. "Look, if you really want a 'medical alliance,' you can start by dropping your bags off in my office over there," he paused to point, "and picking up a scalpel. After I get these pills to one of my nurses, I could really use someone to help me with what looks like a multiple fracture fall that they just wheeled in."
She grabbed a scalpel off the table next to the rolling storage unit that he had just searched. "Then let's get started."
Four hours, two titanium spinal plates, a new knee-cap, a broken leg, and a cracked collarbone later, Morgana and Cottle washed up and met in his office. "I know it wasn't what you intended to do today, but thank you," he told her, closing the door behind her.
She picked up the smaller bag she had brought. "I really would like to send you volunteers. I'm not implying that you personally cannot do your job; I'm simply pointing out that you are obviously shorthanded and I am willing to help you."
He sighed, resting one hand on the desk. "Maybe you're right. I'm getting too old for days like this."
"Age is a matter of perspective." Morgana handed the travel bag to him. He took it and opened it, raising an eyebrow at the bottles. "I promised you samples of our vaccines."
Nodding, he took the bag to place its contents near the laboratory section of Life Station. He spoke when he returned. "I completely forgot about those. It's been one hell of a day."
"I thought you said it was a normal day," she corrected, watching as he fished through his coat pocket.
He removed a pack of cigarettes. "I lied. I know you're probably going to get your hair in a knot again if I just light it, so I'll ask. Do you mind if I have a smoke?"
Sitting on one of the chairs in front of his desk, she folded her hands in her lap. "Truthfully, yes, but seeing the kind of day you've had, I think I can let one slide, as long as I can't see or reach for the pack myself."
He smiled at her. "You've got a lot more class than I gave you credit for." Instead of reaching for his lighter, he slipped the pack back into his pocket. "I suppose a few more hours couldn't hurt. So what's in the other bag?"
"The files you wanted," she responded, unfastening the bag to pull out a small plastic box. She turned it so that he could see a monitor screen on one end of it. Then she pulled out a small cylindrical container, removing an even smaller cylinder from that. She opened a door on the other side of the box and inserted it into a slot before closing the door again.
"This is a modified unit for looking at what we call 'microfilm.' Instead of having physical files, a few years back I found that it was easier to place certain files on microfilm," she explained.
"Does it play home movies too?" he goaded her.
She rolled her eyes. "Do you want to know about the organic Cyborgs or not?"
"Okay. Let's get this show on the road," he retorted.
Morgana pushed a switch on the side to turn it on. Using a series of arrows and buttons just under the screen, she selected the files that she wanted. "When our people nuked themselves in a war two hundred years ago, the remnants of humanity split into two factions. One escaped Earth, leaving a few markers, but denouncing most technology when they reached a new home, as you well know. The other one stayed on Earth for a time, using technology to survive."
"I think we've already figured out that much," Cottle remarked, pulling up a chair behind her.
Morgana snorted. "Patience, Doctor. I would assume that a man of your years and experience would know how compact medical files can be at times."
He smirked. "A man of my years? I thought you said age is a matter of perspective."
She faced him, rolling her eyes. "How you feel about age is a matter of perspective. When you're as impatient as a five-year-old, I won't waste time telling you to act your age."
"Oh please don't try to get on my good side," he said dryly. "Is everything going to be a battle with you, or can we get back to the files?"
Muttering something that sounded like 'pain-in-the-ass,' she resumed telling him about the files. "The faction that relied on technology was only able to stay on Earth for nearly fifty years because the levels of radioactivity were too high, so they adapted their space ships for long-term use. Half a century years ago, they began making certain medical advances in prosthetics and sent some reports of their progress to the Medical Board. Despite the government not wanting to know, the Medical Board welcomed the contact. They found ways to create organic prosthetics that reacted to nerve response like real tissue."
"Now that would be nice to have, instead of the metal crap I'm stuck working with," Cottle added, peering over her shoulder.
She nodded, her eyes only focusing on the screen. "Yes. The Medical Board has borrowed some of the ideas over the years. However, the other humans began making simulated organs and soon they were able to make full-body replacements. What your people call the 'Final Five' actually began as a project that took five children at different times who had been severely injured and placed their consciousness into organic cyber-bodies that would grow and age."
"So the brains were computerized too?" he inquired.
"Sort of. Part of it was their actual brain tissue, but part of it had to be simulated so that it would work with the rest of the body. After receiving reports of this, the Medical Board stopped official contact on the grounds that no human had the right to program another," she informed him.
He placed a hand on the back of her chair. "If that's true, then why do you have the files?"
She turned to him, grinning wryly. "Because while the rest of the Medical Board was fussing over ethics, I wanted to know what our brothers in space had up their sleeves in case we had to defend ourselves against something. I may not look like it, but I'm fifty-seven."
"What's your secret then? Aside from a few gray streaks in your hair, I thought you were in your forties," he admitted.
"Part of it is genetics. Slow aging on my father's side of the family and the like. The other part is an herb we found on Terra Prime. You grind it up, boil it, and use it with skin cream and it takes care of wrinkles," she explained.
He chuckled. "If your whole planet knows about that stuff, then I know a lot of women who are going to sign up as customers as soon as they can land."
She gave him a genuine smile. "All in good time, Doctor. Now as for the files, the five children were taken at different times. One was taken around the time that your people went to war with robots."
His eyes widened. "You mean you knew about our people from the start?"
"Not exactly. The information we received from our brothers was that there was a group of other humans, physiologically equal to us. We were given no cultural information. Naturally I assumed that they were from some unmentioned colony ship from Earth that had left centuries ago. Anyway, the last child was helped over twenty years ago. They were programmed to someday return to Earth, but until their programming kicked in, they were susceptible to all sorts of diseases that regular humans are. Once the programming kicked in, the body was designed to reject the disease," she mentioned.
"That explains a lot," he responded.
"We lost contact with them about twenty years ago. Something attacked their ship. Prior to the last report, I have several notes about needing to move the ship because of piracy from the local people. The people they found had become space-faring and a few had no qualms about trying to pillage someone else's network. Someone had been stealing some of their Cyborg files. The last message I received asked me to destroy my files. I basically got one line from them saying 'Ship boarded by enemy, destroy all information,'" she relayed.
He stepped back, crossing his arms. "It's possible that someone attacked your people and then used the technology to build the other Cylons. Can you tell me anything else about the programming? Is it possible to share dreams?"
She raised an eyebrow. "I have no idea, Doctor. However, if there's one thing I have learned over the years, it's that there are some things in this universe that medicine cannot explain. 'There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.'"
"Actually my name's Jack," Cottle stated.
"It's a literary reference from a play called Hamlet. I'll have to lend you a copy." Morgana began to back away the unit, however, she moved too quickly standing and bumped into him. "Sorry about that."
"My fault for reading over your shoulder," he responded.
Suddenly the proximity of how close they stood to each other occurred to her. Her mouth went dry as she looked up at him. Clearing her throat, she found her voice again. "I suppose I should head back to Terra Prime."
"First you should come with me, and we've got to explain all of this to the admiral and the president. They'll want to know," he recommended. She agreed and they left Life Station.
Bill and Laura were looking over fleet status reports in their quarters when they heard a knock at the door. He answered it to find Cottle and Morgana. "I take it you found something interesting."
Cottle nodded. "You could say that. We decided to pass it along to you."
For the next two hours they discussed the files and the Cylons. Bill joined Laura on the couch when the doctors had left. "At least we've got a better understanding of what's going on now," Bill remarked.
Laura took a sip of her water. "Yes, but it doesn't bring us any closer to understanding the dreams I have, or what the Three Sisters Prophecy has to do with anything."
"From what you've told me, it sounds like you're supposed to keep peace between everyone," he recalled.
"But how am I supposed to do that if they know I'm a Cylon? I'll be glad when I can wake up in the morning, and not have to worry about being anyone else except Mrs. Laura Adama," she told him.
He smiled, leaning in to kiss her softly. "We'll figure this out, like we always do."
She kissed him back. "I hope you're right. In the meantime, I think it's time that we got back to D'Anna."
"You sure you want to do that?" Bill inquired.
"No, but I think we need to," she responded.
A private line was set up between Galactica and the baseship. "Madame President, you wanted to speak with me?"
"Yes. The leader of the planet is very opposed to technology. It would be best if you send some of your people down dressed like our people, mixing the two groups together," Laura suggested.
"Are you suggesting that your people take charge of my people?" D'Anna questioned.
Laura sighed. "I wouldn't suggest anything of the sort. You are still in charge, but I don't think you should led the planet's leader specifically realize that we are two separate groups."
She could hear D'Anna grown on the other end of the wireless. "And you think that your people will concede to hiding Cylons?"
"I think it's the best possible solution, given our current situation," the president told her.
While Laura reasoned with D'Anna, Cottle escorted Morgana back to the Raptor. "You didn't have to come with me. I could've asked one of the soldiers you've got wandering around."
"Think of it as door-to-door service," Cottle stated.
Morgana scoffed. "You just didn't want to cause an intergalactic incident by losing one of the premiere's favorite doctors."
Cottle snorted. "I don't know if the word 'favorite' would be a compliment in that case. Your premiere doesn't seem like a guy you'd want to be alone with."
Laughing, she nodded. "On that, Doctor, we agree." She stepped onto the Raptor, but turned back to him. "You will consider my offer of a bigger staff, won't you?"
He gave her a smile. "You've given me a lot to consider today."
(My thanks to WonderfallsOnDaisies, carolann, and McGonagallFan for reviewing :D)