TWELVE

The mood in the conference room was stark and intimidating.

Samantha O'byea sat staring at the viewing screen, the video frozen on the face of the enigmatic woman at the warehouse on Harlow's World. Much to her own surprise, though, the revelation of her own doppelganger wasn't a surprise, at least to her. But she was almost painfully aware that all other eyes in the room were now on her, not the screen, and that made her uncomfortable. She wasn't quite sure where she found the resolve to keep her composure, but find it she did. It was almost as if she were able to pick and choose her affect at will. She wasn't sure where this new self-assurance had manifested from, but she was grateful for it.

"Perhaps this is a bad choice of words, but she is a dead ringer for Ms. O'byea, I'll have to admit." The pun might have drawn a few snickers if not for the seriousness of the moment or the fact that it was Alistair Kohn who had uttered it. Kohn had, of course, seen the full gun camera footage, including the mid-forehead long rifle shot that Sergeant Lohan had delivered. Thankfully, Kevin Payge had stopped the presentation long before it got to that point. No doubt seeing a mirror image of herself taking a fatal blow delivered by a man she had to look at every day would be traumatizing. As suspicious as the circumstances might be, O'byea hadn't done anything that they knew about to warrant a brutal shock like that.

"Different hair color and no make-up, but there's no denying the resemblance." Gunner Kells said calmly and to no one in particular.

There was yet another long silence as each of the occupants of the room turned their attention back to the viewer. It had been Sergeant Lohan's idea to bring O'byea into the conference room unprepared, but so far the gambit seemed to be failing. If she had any inkling about the identity or nature of the enigmatic woman, it certainly wasn't apparent in her affect or reaction. She was almost like a stone statue.

"Ms. O'byea…?" Lohan's voice was actually soft and unthreatening. Unexpected, no doubt, for a man who'd been in combat just a few hours ago against a woman who was trying to kill him…And a woman that just happened to look just like her.

She turned, albeit slowly, to face the young sergeant. "I'm sorry…uhhh…Sergeant…. Yes?"

"Ma'am…do you have any idea if that woman might be a family member? I know this is a stretch, but was there ever any mention of a twin sister?"

She turned back towards the screen, now leaning forward in her seat. She squinted slightly, seemingly trying to focus more clearly, but outwardly her affect remained unchanged.

And although there was no outward demonstration of familiarity, Samantha O'byea did know who this was. Not directly mind you, but they'd certainly been cast from the same mold.

Literally.

But no one in this room could know that. She wasn't sure how she knew it, but she did, and it was with her that that information must remain.

She turned back to the young Marine, shaking her head slightly as if trying to shake off a bad headache. "I'm sorry, Sergeant, but I'm as much at a loss for words as anyone else here. I'm…I'm…I'm afraid I just don't know…I just don't know what to say…"

"Samantha, are you…" Alastair Kohn didn't get a chance to finish his sentence.

"LISTEN TO ME! I SAID I DON'T KNOW WHO SHE IS, DAMN IT!" O'byea's volcanic outburst was abrupt and angered. If the mood in the conference room had been somber before, it was down-right icy now, and everyone's eyes, Kohn's especially, were wide open and staring at the Facility Manager in stark disbelief at the sudden rage. He didn't know where to put this.

At the other ends of the table, Sven Robbins and Dewayne Kells sat in silence. Kells turned to Sven, looking questioningly over the top of reading glasses perched at the end of his nose. Sven just twisted his head back-and-forth in a barely discernable motion, unable to believe the outburst they'd just witnessed.

"I started to say, Samantha…" Kohn's voice was calm and measured. Almost too calm. His tone was borderline condescending, but he was only trying to keep the proceedings peaceful. "…are you alright?" He paused for a second before continuing. "Surely this is as shocking for you as it is everyone else here…"

O'byea quickly realized that she had just lost control of the moment. By design or circumstance, she was both in a position of responsibility and in a position to influence the goings-on here, yet she'd just committed a major social faux pas. Some immediate fence mending was in order lest she find herself on the outside looking in.

She dropped her head to her hands. "I'm…Look…I'm sorry, everyone…" Samantha was suddenly contrite. She allowed the muscle tone in her body to relax, and rather than being perched on the edge of her chair, she was now fell slack into it. She slumped back, eyes still on the screen, as if trying to make sense of the presence of her doppelganger in the video. If she could only tell them, she thought. "This is just a lot to take in. I…I can't believe what I'm seeing any more than you do!" She hoped that she was believable.

Sven Robbins rose from his chair "Well…everyone…whatever the circumstances surrounding her, all we have to go on right now is that that woman…" he held his left arm straight out at the view screen "…happens to look like our Ms. O'byea, here…" Sven's tone was almost conciliatory, although he didn't know what it was O'byea needed to be defensive about or why he felt he should be worried for it. As a matter of fact, what did she have to be defensive about?

Now Sven's own curiosity was piqued. Why, indeed, would she have anything to be concerned about…she was just unlucky enough to look like someone else…right?

And the history of her family…held prisoner by the Cylons during the war, yet released without any apparent incentive to do so.

Coincidence? Maybe.

Suddenly there were too many questions to be answered and even fewer answers that made sense. And if that weren't enough, the hairs on the back of his neck were standing up…almost painfully so. If Sven Robbins hadn't learned anything else in his decades with The Teams, it was that anyone who ignored their 'gut feelings' in a bad situation was going to have a bad day…a real bad last day, if they weren't careful.

Robbins glanced over at Dewayne Kells and they made eye contact. Obviously Dewayne was thinking the same thing as Kells motioned towards the door. Sven took the cue and began to rise. As he did, he raised his hands to quiet the whispers. He put both of his massive hands on the table in front of him, then looked up at the others gathered around the conference table and began to speak.

"Folks…we've gone through a very treacherous few days. No doubt everyone in this room is a whole lot of scared. I know I am. But it's moments like this that breed unfounded paranoia that can undermine even the best planned defense. Now's not the time to be casting shadows over each other…Now's the time for all of us to put our trust and faith in each other. That's the only way we're going to survive this. We've got food. We've air and water. We've got a roof over our heads and the means to go elsewhere if we need to. We may not be able to come and go freely, but we're certainly not stranded, either. There's two hundred and fifty other people on this rock depending on us, and we've got to give them the leadership they not only expect, but need."

Sven looked around the room and saw that everyone was nodding in the affirmative. Even Samantha O'byea seemed to be following his lead.

Suddenly, in that moment, moreso than any other moment since the arrival of the Breaker Castle, Sven Robbins realized that the fight for their lives wasn't being fought on Aerilon or Harlow's World. It wasn't being decided by the Cylons or The Quorum of Twelve on Caprica. It would be determined by these people, in this room, on this asteroid, by their own hands and deeds. If there would ever be a moment in human history that laid bare the value of human existence, this would be it.

He just hoped they didn't frak it up.