Chapter 127 Hatches

As the hatch closed behind the departing back of Kara Thrace, Laura turned and watched Adama move to the bar and pull the half-empty bottle towards him again. She frowned at seeing the tremble in his hand as he poured a full measure of amber liquor into the tumbler, but waited until after he'd taken a swallow before saying what was foremost in her mind.

"Bill, what were you thinking? Striking her like that. Knowing her history and all that girl's been through?" Her voice was calm but no one could mistake the admonishment in her tone. His shoulders hunched in response before he twisted to face her.

"She's lying," he bit out harshly, then folded both hands around the glass to stop the shaking that revealed how disturbed he was by Kara's accusations.

"No, she's not." As his eyes pinned her, she raised a hand to forestall his objection, "I'm not saying that what she's said is true, just that she thinks it is," Laura quickly explained. "Her story's incredible, and of course we can't just take her words at face value," a gauging pause as she studied his grim expression before continuing, "but we can't just summarily dismiss them either."

He shook his head as if to throw off even the mere suggestion of any basis to Kara's allegations. Laura watched him struggle with his divided heart. It wasn't difficult to guess how the 'supposed' identity of the remaining three Cylon models was hitting him. But despite the provocation, his physically lashing out at one so already damaged was totally unacceptable.

"In these weeks since Kara's…" she hesitated, "…disappearance, I've watched you. Watched you wander Galactica's halls. You might have fooled your people, maybe even your son, but I saw how her loss gnawed away at you." She pulled in a breath to give her strength to push on. "And now she's back. And not only do you fear losing her again, but she's threatening the one person that you've always relied on."

"You don't know what you're talking about," he grimly stated, gaze shifting from hers.

"I do. And you know it. You are so buckled up inside that you can't take anymore loss." Again he shook his head, but she pressed on. "Your son's leaving," lifting her arm to emphasis the taped cotton ball where Cottle had taken more blood, "…this, me, I know it."

After another swig, "No one's going anywhere," he flatly denied and Laura looked away, eyes blurring at his ongoing denial. She blinked a few times then looked back, forcing him to meet her gaze.

"Ok. Here's the truth. This is what's going on," she said. "You don't want to believe Kara. You would rather be wrong about Saul Tigh and face your own demise than risk losing another member of your family.

His face abruptly purpled with rage and he took a single step forward before halting with a jerk, and Laura saw dismay crumple his features as he realized how out of control his reactions were. Spinning away, he returned to the bar and emptied the remainder of the drink down its inset sink then stood breathing hard, hands supporting him on the polished surface.

More worried now than even before, Laura moved hesitantly to stand behind him before quietly saying, "We don't know that it's not true."

"It's not."

"Regardless, you still owe her an apology…at least that."

She saw a tremor sweep his frame before he reluctantly turned. He seemed surprised to find her so close, more so when she reached a hand forward to straighten his collar.

"Pull it together. We need you," her words soft yet bound with steel.

Searching his opaque eyes, she opened her mouth only to be interrupted by a knock on the hatch and heard the guard's announcement that Colonel Tigh was here. Her eyes met Bill's and she wondered if he was really up to confronting his friend about Kara's allegations. What she saw wasn't what she'd call reassuring, either, but she stepped away, moving to put some distance between them before he could call to for his second in command to enter.

As the XO saw her, his stride faltered before his gaze shifted to where Bill still stood by the bar. She saw him wet his lips as his eyes narrowed on the bottle just beyond his commanding officer's back. It didn't take much of a guess that he was fighting the urge to ask for a drink, and Laura had to wonder if he needed a shot of courage. As that thought came to her, she realized that she was giving more credence to Kara's charge than she had planned. Perhaps it was something in the older man's bearing that hinted at guilt that stoked her suspicion?

His next words only served to build on that impression.

"I need a word." His single-eyed gaze slid her way. "Alone."

Shifting her regard from one man to the other, Laura debated the wisdom of acceding to the Colonel's unsubtle request for her to leave. Deciding that this decision should rest solely with the Admiral, "Bill?" she prompted and watched him tense further before looking her way.

"If you'll excuse us, Madame President," he replied, voice expressionless as he met her searching gaze.

With another glance at Tigh where he stood ramrod straight, awaiting his commander's attention, she gave a small nod and moved to go. Even as she crossed the threshold, a small corner of her mind whispered that she should have insisted on remaining, that the Admiral's objectivity in relation to his XO was more than suspect. Pursing her lips, she resisted the impulse to turn and demand Bill's permission to stay. There was little she trusted, but she had learned to trust William Adama to do his duty—even though their concept of what that duty entailed did occasionally vary.

As she forced her steps to carry her back towards Galactica's sickbay…and another appointment with the doctor, Laura fervently hoped that her suspicions of Saul's presence proved ungrounded. She'd much rather have Kara's information be an attempt by the Cylons to mislead them than face what remained of Bill Adama if his best friend has just decided to confess that he's an enemy agent.

Abruptly she faltered and felt a steadying hand at her elbow.

"Sir?" her Marine escort asked, concern in his expression. She gave him a brief smile and shifted her arm from his hold.

"I'm fine, Travis," she replied, then wondered if it were true. A glance to reorient herself and then she resumed her course, abet slower this time. As she felt her escort fall into his position on her flank, Laura knew that he probably believed her moment of weakness an effect of her illness.

If only that were true.

In the turbulence of Bill's reaction to the allegation against Saul Tigh, she had been able to ignore the others Kara had indicted…specifically Laura's own aide. Yet now that her attention wasn't focused on dealing with the Admiral, the realization that Tory could also be a Cylon agent had swept over her like an unexpected gust of wind, both figuratively and literally causing her to reel.

How many of her 'supposed' secrets might the woman have passed on to the enemy?

Laura wracked her memory for what information Tory might have that could compromise the Colonials. The aide might not be privy to Galactica's protocols, but she certainly knew enough to present a grave security breach if she did prove out to be a plant.

As a pair of crewmen gave her respectful nods in passing, she forcefully shook off the dismay and reminded herself that it was as likely—probably more so—that Kara had been fed disinformation. Seriously. How could the Cylons really expect that she and the Admiral would believe that those three were traitors? But even as she wondered that, she remembered that two as unlikely candidates were locked in a cell, confirmed as two of the five unknown models.

With a sigh, Laura picked up her pace. She decided the best course of action was to give Bill time to confront Saul, then return and discover what he'd learned. In the meantime, she was due back in sickbay. By now Doctor Cottle should have all of her tests back and soon they'd know if her cancer was spreading as aggressively as before.

Once again she felt that time had become an implacable enemy, far more so than any Cylon threat.

For time always won.

Always.

[ ]

Facing his Admiral—his friend—Saul waited until he was sure the hatch was secured before speaking. But as he sought to form words to lay his betrayal before Bill Adama, he found his thoughts flitting back over the events of the past few hours.

His shock at Starbuck's return was nothing compared to that of seeing his wife step from the Heavy Raider. It was her. Really her. In all her blonde and brassy beauty she had come back to him! Saul would've sworn his heart had broken ribs with its thunderous pounding, but then it had seemed to stop all-together as understanding struck him.

Ellen was a Cylon.

The first choking revelation gave way before the reminder that he was, too, afterall. The irony nearly unmanned him and he'd clung to the railing, sure that he'd plummet to the hard deck below if he'd dared let go. The words exchanged between the Admiral, Starbuck and then Lee hardly registered as the implications of Ellen's presence and purpose rampaged through his mind and emotions.

Where did her loyalties lie? Hadn't she already proved willing to sell out others to protect her own interests? At the thought that he might have to stand by and let her be airlocked, Saul's knees nearly buckled. Only his white-knuckled grip kept him upright as he envisioned having to sacrifice his wife for his duty once again. He blinked as he realized that this time was different. If Ellen's sole crime was being a Cylon, then he was as guilty and they should stand side-by-side in the launch tube.

Let the godsdamned President pass judgment on them both and have done with it!

On the catwalk, he had sharply inhaled as Bill had turned and spoken low words for his ears only, ordering him to hold it together and accompany him. Listening later to Bill briefing the President, he couldn't even recall following the Admiral to his quarters where there he'd repeatedly found his thoughts skittering below to Galactica's detention block. He'd mostly kept his peace when first Lee and then the Doc had joined them, but had found himself breaking when faced with Starbuck—and the abrupt suspicion that Thrace knew his secret. Her demand to speak with the Admiral and President in private only solidified his fear. He had nearly blurted his confession right then and there, but the words hadn't been able to pass the strangle-hold that shame had on his throat. Instead he'd fled, his legs unconsciously carrying him to the specially made cell and his restored spouse.

He had so many questions.

And so many answers that he feared hearing.

Ellen had consumed his vision, but he'd managed to hold himself together to listen to her story of waking on the Resurrection Ship and remembering a past that had been blocked from her mind by John Cavil. Too well Tigh remembered that sadistic bastard. Since the loss of Saul's eye, the One was a frequent visitor to his nightmares. Discovering that Cavil and his line were behind the mass suppression of the other models didn't come as a surprise. It just drilled his hatred of the Cylon deeper.

But talk of the One's traitorous actions were secondary to Saul. His need—and dread—was for confirmation of his own true identity. Did Ellen know that he was one of the remaining unknown models? Did the others? It hadn't escaped his notice that the Cylon woman that had masqueraded as a nosy reporter was in the cell's corner, undoubtedly scheming with that Caprica Six model.

Now, Sam Anders had been another matter. The man had watched him with an apparent disinterest that hadn't fooled Saul one iota. The only question was whether Anders knew his secret. And if Anders knew, did that mean Ellen did, too?

He'd then seen the truth in her eyes when she'd denied knowing the names of the others. Saul had suddenly realized then that he may have already lost his chance to come forward and tell Bill the truth in his own time and way. Why else would Starbuck have purposefully excluded him from her debrief? She must have planned on exposing him to the Admiral and President.

Now as he stood before Bill, he somehow had to find the courage to confess and face the consequences, including the probable loss of a friendship that had seen him through his darkest days. Resolutely ignoring the craving that urged him to delay longer by requesting a drink, he braced himself. The words felt as hard as stones as he forced them past the constriction in his throat.

"I should've told you when I first found out, but I didn't have the guts," he ground out, self-disgust roughening his voice. "There was a…a trigger. Some kinda crazy, frakked up Cylon signal. Switched me on." He paused, recalling the hit of knowledge and the mental suffocation it caused which nearly drowned him in the days following that moment. He swallowed, shoving aside his personal horror in order to continue. "I can't turn it off."

He watched as Bill removed his glasses and set them aside on the bar's surface while never breaking eye contact. The Admiral's face was impassive and Saul wasn't sure what to make of his reaction. Was he surprised…or had he already known because Starbuck had warned him?

Then Bill flatly said, "Switched you on?"

Saul stood even straighter, still at a loss how to interpret his friend's closed off features, but pushed on with his explanation.

"Like Boomer," he said. "I'm one of the five, one of the Cylons we haven't seen before." As Bill expressionlessly regarded him, Saul kept his hands pressed against the side-seams of his pants to prevent them from shaking.

"Quit frakkin' with me," his friend finally said. "Colonel, I've known you for thirty years."

"I didn't know myself until just a few weeks ago."

"Think about this." Bill closed the distance between them, and now Saul could see the cracks forming in the other man's mask of impassivity as he continued. "When I met you, you had hair. I've never heard of a Cylon aging."

"Doesn't mean they don't." He felt sweat trickle down his back. It was becoming more difficult holding himself steady now, but he was determined to finish what he'd started. "Before the attack on the Colonies, we didn't know skinjobs existed." Taking a breath, he put forth his strongest point. "You've seen Ellen age and yet you can't deny what she is," and one last push, "what we are."

Saul was shocked at the speed in which he found himself on his back on the cabin's floor with Bill's hands knotted in his collar as the other man knelt over him. The betrayal and rage flushing his friend's face had replaced the mask of a moment ago. Saul didn't resist, just met the wild look with a contrite one of his own.

"Why?" Bill demanded, tone hoarse and bitter.

"Don't know. Ellen might," he gasped out as the jacket fabric about his neck tightened.

Abruptly releasing his hold as if afraid of fouling his hands, Bill stepped back and the revulsion in his eyes was more painful to Saul than even when his eye had been plucked from his head. His gaze flinched away and he lay stiffly still, unsure whether to stay where he was and await the summoning of guards or to struggle to his feet to face his fate. Deciding on the later, he rolled to his knees and pushed himself upright.

Seeing that Bill had wandered closer to the cabin's sofa and actually stood with his back to him, Saul felt a flare of hope stir. The Admiral not only hadn't immediately called in the Marines to frog-march him to the brig, but he'd gone so far as to leave himself unprotected to any attack the Colonel might attempt.

Wiping his hand over his balding pate, Saul sought a way to prove his allegiance, but all the previous ideas he'd considered seemed as inadequate as before. Not moving closer to the hunched figure, he cleared his throat.

"Bill, I swear I'm the same man," he began, noting the slight twitch of the other's shoulders as his words broke the silence. "It's still me. An hour ago. A day. Hells, even twenty years ago. I'm Saul Tigh." His voice gathering strength. "I swore an oath. I'm loyal and no Cylon programming's gonna change that one frakkin' bit!"

As his commander and friend continued to appear to ignore him, Saul's shamed anxiety flashed into frustration.

"Godsdamnit, Bill,"he snapped, then practically shouted, "Look at me!", and was rewarded as the other man spun to face him. The look in his pale eyes made Saul abruptly wish that he hadn't. They reflected betrayal and a soul-deep anguish. Bill's voice reflected the same; it sounded liked shattered as glass when he spoke.

"I am," the Admiral slashed out, "I'm looking at you…and you make me sick."

Saul recoiled as if slapped, then resumed his parade-sharp stance awaiting his commanding officer's orders, but found that he couldn't meet Bill's gaze any longer, unable to stomach what he'd seen there.

He didn't move as the Admiral crossed the cabin and ordered the guard on duty to enter.

"Colonel Tigh is under arrest," Adama said to the Marine. As the Admiral continued, "Put him in the Cylon holding cell with the others," Saul saw the confused look the young man gave him.

"Sir?"

"You heard me, Corporal Trumbo," the Admiral's cold reply. "Escort the prisoner below. Double the duty guards and let them know that no one—no one—is allowed access to the prisoners until further notice."

"Yes, Sir! Admiral, Sir!" the guard snapped out, still obviously flustered but having gotten the message. He shifted his assault rifle in a clear warning and to indicate for Tigh to proceed him.

With his one remaining eye, Saul forced himself to meet Bill's hard gaze and said, "By your command," unable to resist the perverse urge. As the lines around his friend's eyes and mouth tightened, he snapped up a hand in a salute before moving to stiffly exit.

The clang of the hatch closing with more force than usual almost made him falter, but Saul forced his legs steadily forward, retracing his recent path.

[ ]

Lee jerked his chin up from his chest as the clank of metal on metal pulled him awake. Blinking groggily, it took him a moment to remember where he was and why. As he did, his worried gaze shifted to the side and he was relieved to see that Kara slept on, oblivious to the sound that had disturbed him.

Looking up now, he saw Helo standing at the cell's closed door watching them with a bemused expression. Lee wasn't sure what to make of the man's presence, but he didn't want to risk waking Kara from a sleep she so obviously needed. With a finger to his lips, he signaled for silence and saw the acting-CAG nod in understanding and then saw Karl's features soften as they shifted once more to the sleeping form. He thought that her friend had probably just come down to see for himself that Kara had returned, but as his attention shifted back to Lee, worry now dimmed the other man's happiness of a moment ago.

The tall pilot's wave for Lee to join him outside of the cell made it clear that he was here on more than just a personal visit…or he never would be insisting with a second, and more adamant wave that Lee come out. A part of Lee was tempted to refuse. All he desperately wanted was to stay here and just be with Kara.

Why the frak can't they leave us in peace for awhile?

He saw Karl's comprehension in the small shake of his head, but a third wave from the officer made it evident that it wasn't a request. With a grimace, Lee reluctantly eased Kara's sock-clad feet from his lap, sliding free until he could stand and, gazing down, was reassured by her steady breathing she hadn't roused.

He ran a hand over his face, then turned and exited the cell as quietly as possible, not bothering to relock the door for fear of disturbing her. He followed Helo out the hatch, appreciating the other man's careful attempts to be as quiet as possible. His order to the guard to make sure that Kara's rest wasn't disturbed earned a thankful nod from Lee and he trailed the taller figure a distance before the man entered a deserted storage room.

"Sorry, Lee," Karl said, "Admiral's orders and it's taken me forever to locate you. Should've known to just start with where Kara was." He huffed a laugh, joy and awe again infusing Karl's features. "She's back. Did it again."

Lee's own emotions spiked again in response to Helo's. He was right, Kara had done it again, found a way to return against all odds. Abruptly, like before, he found his breaths coming in panicked gasps. Karl seemed to sense how overwhelmed he was, for he rested a firm hand on Lee's shoulder and ordered him to concentrate on slow, steady breaths. After a minute, the choking tightness eased and he straightened.

"Better?"

"Yeah, just…" he trailed off, unable to explain panic attacks when here he should be celebrating. What the hell was wrong with him?

"Hey, I know Kara's breathtaking," Helo quipped, tripping up Lee's frustrated thoughts, "but don't you dare tell her I said that. I've got my two girls, three would be more than I could handle," Helo devoutly added, his tone overly dramatic. Then as if in an afterthought, "And don't tell her that either. I've been know to boast of having a harem in every port and wouldn't want to sully my rep any now."

Lee appreciated Karl's attempts to jolly him from the oppressive mood and, wiping his clammy hands down his slacks, he shifted to focus on the concerned figure. Helo must have been reassured by what he saw in his face, for he gave Lee's shoulder a friendly smack.

"Come on. The Admiral's scheduled a pilots' briefing in," a quick glance at his watch, "little over an hour and he wanted to meet with you first." Lee gave a questioning look, and Helo shrugged. "He didn't say what it's about, but he's only tapped those that are Raptor-qualified." With a slight tilt of his head, Agathon scrutinized him while Lee struggled to keep his expression clear as one possible reason jumped to mind.

Apparently coming to the conclusion that Lee wasn't going to offer up any guesses, Helo gave another shrug, then straightened, his expression taking on a grim cast. Lee tensed with the premonition that the other man was finally getting to the real purpose for pulling him into a deserted room.

"Colonel Tigh's been arrested."

The words were clear, but it still took a moment for Lee to process them. When he did his eyes widened.

"W-what?" he found himself stuttering out.

"The Admiral had him escorted under guard and put in with the Cylon prisoners." At Lee's incredulous look, Helo gave a grim nod before adding, "Chief Tyrol and the President's aide, too." Lee stared at him in dumbfounded silence, trying to wrestle some sense into his father's actions. There could only be one reason that he'd had the three locked in with the others. But that meant…

Running both hands over his face, Lee tried to organize his thoughts from the chaos of Helo's revelations. One thing came sharply into focus. Kara had known. That was why she'd been so insistent that she speak only with the President and Admiral. She'd learned the identity of the remaining three and needed to warn his dad without letting the XO know that she was on to him.

The Colonel's questions in the brig earlier came to mind, and Lee realized that Tigh had been pumping his wife for information, not for the Fleet, but to learn whether his cover was blown. It explained his willingness to not press the matter—he'd already known. And yet…on the other hand, none of it made sense. This was his father's best friend. His shipmate from way back.

"The Chief?" He hadn't realized that he'd spoken outloud until Helo's word's cut across his roiling confusion.

"I've know Galen…" the taller man started before trailing off.

Lee could guess that he was recalling his and Tyrol's joint history with Boomer and wondering if it had been an act all along. The Chief's reveal was bad enough, but Lee swallowed, his jaw clenching as he considered what it meant for his dad to openly arrest Saul Tigh.

Realizing that he was wasting valuable time, he stepped past Helo to the storage room's hatch. It did him little good speculating. Better to go straight to his dad to find out what the hell was going down. As he crossed the threshold and turned to hurry towards the Admiral's quarters, he wondered in what condition he'd find his father.

Behind him, Helo closed the room's hatch and quickly followed.