Chapter 1. Secession
Bill Thurston-12: Day 58. Bridge; Late-Morning Watch.
Rebecca had cheered when she heard that the President had escaped from Galactica's brig. She had tried to follow the President's movements during the first few days of her flight, but Tom Zarek and his henchmen had done a flawless job covering their tracks. Safely hidden within the fleet, Laura Roslin's freedom shined brilliantly against the tyranny that Colonel Tigh used to smother the survivors. Now, days later, Rebecca suspected that no one, except Tom Zarek, had any clue from which ship the President led the resistance.
"Ma'am," the young woman at the navigation and communication station called out. "Incoming shuttle registered to the Argentum Bay is approaching. Their pilot is requesting to talk to you directly."
Rebecca looked at her monitor, calling up the schedule for the day. She found it a moment later, a third of the way down on her screen. She scowled at the screen for a moment in concentration. The Argentum Bay, a Wedge-Type ship, was one of the primary repair ships in the fleet. It was scheduled to send a supply run of replacement parts needed in engineering, but not for several hours.
"Naomi, did they give a reason why they're early?" Rebecca asked suspiciously.
The navigator looked at her quizzically, "No, do you want me to ask?"
Rebecca dismissed the thought, "No, hold a sec." She clipped on a headset for private wireless communication before calling out, "Alright, patch them through."
"This is Captain Davenport," she announced into the small microphone.
"Hello, Rebecca." A man's voice answered back.
Rebecca recognized the voice instantly and tried not to panic. Tom Zarek was on the other end of the line, which meant that President Roslin was coming on board her ship.
"Calling to explain why you're ahead of schedule," she asked.
She pulled out her keyboard and began typing a message to the shuttle using an old smuggler's code. "Do you have any regular Argentum Bay crew members on board? My Chief-Mate will expect familiar faces on your shuttle."
Tom's voice returned after a moment. "We have some delicate equipment on board that made it necessary to push up our delivery. I hope that's okay?"
A message in the same code appeared on her screen, "All covered. How should we proceed?"
She already had a plan in her mind. "Yes, that's fine. Have your load master meet my Chief-Mate in the hangar with the inventoried equipment," she said back in a forced casual tone.
"My security chief will meet you in the hangar and escort you to a secure compartment where I will meet with you," she typed quickly.
"That sounds good, thank you. Argentum Shuttle out."
Rebecca shook her head in disbelief at the turn of events. She discreetly looked around the bridge to see if anyone suspected her conspiracy. To her relief everyone was focused on their stations and not paying any attention to her. Turning to her computer she brought up the status of the two main hangar bays. 'Good' she thought noting that there was room for the incoming shuttle in both compartments. More importantly, the starboard bay included an open stall near a supply room that could provide the privacy that the shuttle's "delicate cargo" needed.
'Naomi, have Argentum Bay's shuttle land in our Starboard hangar, have the deck crew put them in slot A-5."
Naomi nodded in acknowledgement and turned her attention to her station. A few minutes later, she turned back to Rebecca, "Captain, landing instructions relayed to Argentum Bay Shuttle-3, E.T.A. ten minutes." the navigator called out. She turned back to her console, "I'll let the Chief Mate know to expect them."
"Thank you, Naomi." Rebecca responded. She grabbed the headset and dialed the security chief quietly.
'This is Campara," the thick guttural voice called out gruffly.
Rebecca was still adjusting to the reality that she needed a security chief. The addition of a thousand souls to the ship's compliment had changed the very essence of her vessel. Before the fall, the BT-12 was a mere commercial freighter, now she was a city, and Rebecca was the mayor, responsible for the lives and safety for every civilian that called her ship home.
Mike Campara was many things; Sagittaron by birth, forthright, simple. He had other qualities of course; he was large, strong, and naturally intimidating to the civilians, but most importantly, he was completely loyal. She took a few moments to explain the upcoming shuttle landing. Satisfied that he understood, she ended the conversation and hung up the line.
"Captain," the navigator called out, breaking Rebecca from her reverie. "The shuttle from Argentum Bay has docked in the starboard hangar."
"Thank you, Naomi." she responded quietly. Trusting in Tom Zarek, Rebecca turned her attention back to her monitor and duties. Fifteen minutes later Parah signaled her, reporting that the manifested supplies had been delivered and stowed away. Five minutes later her phone rang again, this time it was Campara reporting that Tom Zarek and the President were waiting for her in the maintenance room.
Bill Thurston-12: Starboard Maintenance Room 3-C.
Rebecca found Mike Campara waiting for her in the hangar, silently standing guard in front of the maintenance compartment.
"Camp," she said greeting him.
"Hey Captain, your friends are waiting." he said in a hushed, but excited voice.
She fixed the security chief with a serious glare, "Mike, let me make sure you understand this. No one, I mean nobody, can know that anyone came aboard that shuttle. Is that clear."
Mike leaned back in deference to his Captain's tone before answering. "Yes, ma'am, crystal clear."
Rebecca relaxed slightly, "Alright then, let's go see the folks who aren't here." She followed Mike the remaining distance to the compartment and waited momentarily as he undogged the hatch.
She entered cautiously, quietly surveying the small space for the pair of stowaways. "Tom, it's Rebecca. You can come out." she called out gently.
There was a slight clatter from behind a tool cabinet. A few moments later Tom Zarek stepped out from the small alcove in the back of the room. He smiled brightly at Rebecca before grabbing a rag off the shelf next to him and began to wipe his hands. With his hands clean he placed the rag back on the shelf and turning his head back to the alcove behind him he confidently called "Madam President, it's alright, you can come out."
Rebecca instinctively stood at attention as the Quorum delegate introduced the deposed leader. She waited anxiously for the President to reveal herself. Slowly, a second person emerged from behind the shelving. She wore a dirty blue dress, she was unsettled, scared, and frail, everything you would expect for a person on the run. She turned towards Rebecca and as they made eye contact her fears seemed to melt away, her back stiffened as she effortlessly slid back into the role of a politician.
"Captain Davenport," she said quietly. "Thank you. I know that my arrival here places you in great jeopardy, but Tom insists that it is a necessary inconvenience."
"It's no inconvenience Madam President, really." Rebecca stammered nervously.
The President closed her eyes and shook her head slightly in amusement, "Of course it is, and I appreciate your hospitality all the more for it." Laura let the awkward silence between the two hang in the air for a few moments. "I met this nice man in the shuttle, but I'm afraid he didn't give his name or position." she said quietly.
Rebecca looked at Mike quickly, satisfied with his surprised candor, she quickly introduced him. "Madam President, this is my head of security, Mike Campara, he will take care of all your needs while you are on board."
Camp stepped forward enthusiastically offering his hand in front of him, "Madam President, it's an honor." he stammered excitedly.
The President took Mike's hand in both of hers. She looked at him earnestly, "It is my honor, Mr. Campara. Always remember, the politician's role is to serve the people, not the reverse. We are but an extension of your authority."
Rebecca's mind paused at the President's comments and wondered if her words were intended more for Tom Zarek's ears than for Mike's.
Laura smiled as she stepped back from the effervescent security officer before fixing her attention on the ship's Captain. "Captain Davenport, if you have a few minutes to spare, I'd like us to work out the details for my brief stay on your ship."
"Yes ma'am, that would be fine. I'm off duty for the next few hours, no one should bother us." Rebecca waited momentarily for approval from the two politicians. She continued after receiving a tacit acknowledgment from Tom Zarek, "I'm afraid you can't stay here long. There are too many people on the ship, and I won't be able to keep this compartment locked down without raising suspicions."
The President looked at Tom, with a combination of concern and frustration on her face but said nothing.
Tom looked to the President and then to Rebecca, "I'm afraid the Colonel's inspection teams have been busy the last few days." He paused a moment, his head dropping and his eyes glazing over as he silently calculated their next move. He looked up as he came to a solution. "I should be able to find a shuttle to pick her up in 12 hours, 18 at the most. Will that work for you, Captain?"
Rebecca turned to Mike and was relieved when she saw him nod affirmatively. They had briefly discussed how long they could quietly hide their stowaways. Tom's 18-hour window was just under the 24 hours maximum that they felt they could keep the President hidden. She turned back to Tom, "Twelve hours would be best, but we can keep your stay quiet for 18, with a few hours to spare if needed."
Tom smiled brightly at that. "Great, I'll be able to set her pick up once I'm off the ship," he stated confidently.
Rebecca looked at him puzzled, "You're going to leave the President, here?" she asked.
"No choice." he said, a tinge of regret on his face. "I have to meet with several Quorum members this evening, and I can't very well bring the President with me."
"You're leaving with the Kimba Huta, aren't you?" she asked while silently reviewing the day's schedule. Rebecca refocused on Tom, "It'll be here in three hours. That ship is too big to fit in the hangar, my crew will be unloading it through an umbilical connection. You won't be able to just waltz on board without being noticed. You have a plan, right?"
"You return empty insulated crates, right?" he asked.
"Yeah, so you climb inside one and we send you back with it." she paused a moment. "Then that crate is transferred to Cloud-Nine, where your contact will let you out, and you can meet with the other Quorum members. You have a shuttle from the Astral Queen arriving at the same time, so it will look as if you came from there, correct?"
Tom turned to her and then the President, beaming he stated, "See, I told you she was sharp."
The President was clearly annoyed by Tom's bravado, quietly replying, "I'm very aware that Ms. Davenport is extremely smart."
"Uh, thank you, Ms. President, that's very kind," Rebecca stammered in response.
Laura looked at her with a matriarchal smile, "Please, call me Laura." she stated. The President stiffened her back and with a flourish turned her attention to Tom, "Alright, we have a little bit of time. Let's talk about where we go from here. Clearly, I can't continue to skulk from ship to ship, hiding from Colonel Tigh for much longer. We need to either restore the civilian government or strike out on our own, without the protection from the Galactica."
Tom sighed in resignation at the President's summary, "You're right Laura. The whole point of my meeting on Cloud-9 is too lay down the groundwork for your return."
"There's a but, isn't there Tom."
"Yeah," he shrugged, "As long as the military is calling the shots, there isn't much we can do." he admitted.
"And as long as Tigh is in command, we're perfectly fracked," she lamented.
There was an uncomfortable pause as the four of them stared at each other in silence. Laura turned to Rebecca, "We have a plan that we're bringing to the Quorum, but..." she waited a moment, "if they are unable or unwilling to stand up to the Colonel, then we will be leaving the fleet," she conceded.
"You're planning to go back to Kobol, aren't you?" Rebecca stated cautiously.
"Yes," Tom answered quietly.
Rebecca sighed heavily, "I'm with you, Madam President, but I can't speak for my entire crew or the civilians." She looked at the President carefully, "Do you have a plan" she asked.
Laura didn't flinch from the freighter Captain's gaze, "You'll need to survey your crew, quietly. Any member who wants to stay with the Galactica will have to be transferred to a fleet ship. There will be a signal, you won't miss it."
"We should jump first." Rebecca offered quickly.
Laura looked at her in surprise, "What about the civilians and crew members who want to stay with the Galactica?"
Rebecca steeled her expression before answering, "We can send anyone back who wishes to return after we leave." She held up her hand, stopping the others from responding so that she could explain further. "I have a thousand civilians on this tub, there is no way we can keep our plan secret if we poll the general population before we leave. If Galactica gets wind of this, they can stop us from leaving. But once were gone, even knowing where we are, it'll be a lot harder to bring us back."
Rebecca watched the two, facing each other, silently measuring her offer between them. The President gave Tom a subtle nod before turning her attention to the freighter Captain.
"You make a good point Captain. Can I count on you to coordinate our repatriation efforts for those who wish to return to the Galactica?" she asked.
Rebecca blanched at the weight of the request but knew she couldn't refuse. "Of course, Madam President."
"Thank you, Rebecca." The President sat on a stool next to a cabinet, "Rebecca? Will your crew and the civilians vote to remain with us?"
"Some will wish to return, no doubt my Chief Mate among them, but the majority..." Rebecca paused. "We are with you, Madam President." she said sincerely.
"Good and thank you," the President said quietly.
They remained together for a few minutes, the weight sitting heavily on them, as they contemplated their future silently. The confines of the small room began to make Rebecca restless. Knowing that her absence would soon be noticed, she awkwardly turned towards Tom.
"Camp and I need to head back," she said quietly. If you need anything, you can reach me in my quarters." Rebecca pointed to a phone mounted on the wall, "Dial #47. If I don't pick up, just hang up. Any message you leave will be routed through the communications station."
Tom shook his head in assent, "Will one of you be able to assist me getting onto the Kimba Hutta?" he asked.
"Camp?" Rebecca asked.
Mike looked over at her, and then at Tom. "Shouldn't be a problem. I'll be here to make sure you get off okay."
Rebecca and Camp said their farewells before quietly making their way back to their respective cabins on the ship.
Bill Thurston-12: Bridge; Day 59; Late Morning Watch
Rebecca's first shift of the day was nearly over and to her satisfaction her watch had been relatively uneventful. Her logs had shown a minor scuffle between two citizens in B-Compartment and there were a few nagging maintenance issues that needed to be addressed. Most importantly, however, was the notation that the Kimba Huta had left without incident the night before, secreting Tom Zarek off the ship with it.
Bill Thurston-12: Captain's office; Mid-Day Watch
Rebecca had headed straight to her office after Marel had relieved her at the end of her shift. Her new clandestine role with the President only added to the mountain of never-ending work that awaited her. The captain of the Argentum Bay, an Eric Meier, had sent her a list of ships loyal to the President as well as manifests and personnel logs. She was currently pouring through the data, hoping to get an idea of which ships were best suited for a return and how many souls each could carry. The whole thing was stupid, it was an exercise in theory only at this point. After all, they wouldn't truly know how many people and ships would be needed until after they jumped to Kobol. Silently cursing herself for suggesting the idea to the President, she was just about to pick up the folder on one of the passenger liners when her phone rang for attention.
'Thank the gods,' she thought as she picked up the handset.
"Yes." she answered quickly.
"Captain, we received a keyed message from the Zephyr confirming their shuttle arrival later today." Marel stated.
Rebecca chuckled silently and relaxed slightly. "And you're wondering why?" she finished his unspoken question. Even before the fall, most ship captains didn't bother to confirm scheduled arrivals. But since their escape from the Cylons, all ships maintained wireless silence except when transmissions were deemed absolutely necessary. No doubt, Captain Johns would be getting a stern rebuke from Colonel Tigh. Of course, this keyed message had nothing to do with schedules or protocols. The Zephyr was on the list of Roslin's supporters; and this was a message for her from Tom Zarek. The President needed to be on that shuttle for transport to her next safe haven.
"Uh, yes ma'am" he answered dubiously.
"How old is that ship, Marel?" she asked taunting.
"It was commissioned about 67 years ago ma'am." he answered easily.
Rebecca growled in frustration at his answer, "Marel, how and why do you know that!" Realizing her second mistake she cut him off before he could respond. "Wait! Don't answer that. My gods, that's not the point."
"Ma'am?" he asked confused.
"Cheryl Johns has been captaining that ship longer than you've been alive."
"Come again, Skipper." he asked, obviously still confused.
She let out a pained sigh, "Confirming scheduled arrivals was standard procedure back in the day. No doubt the new regs slipped Cheryl's attention and she followed SOP as she was trained, a hundred years ago..."
There was a brief pause as Marel digested her assessment. "Okay, thank you ma'am. Sorry for disturbing you, Bridge out."
"No worries, and thanks for letting me know." she replied before ending the call by replacing the handset on its base.
Bill Thurston-12: Starboard Maintenance Room 3-C.
Laura Roslin sat on an uncomfortable wooden stool, precariously perched over a rough and cluttered workspace. A red pen pinched between her teeth, impatiently waiting to lash out and strike through any perceived imperfection. Most of the Quorum members were sheep, all ready to surrender to the stronger power Laura reflected. Her speech to them had to be perfect; too forceful and they would scurry away, too weak and they would do nothing. She jumped at the sudden knocking on the hatch.
'Dammit!' she chastised herself as she hurriedly scooped up her things and fled to a back corner. 'How ironic, hiding in the back of a closet, while trying to impress others to stand up.' So caught up in the moment, she wasn't sure if the person at the hatch had knocked the code of three quick knocks followed by 3 slow knocks. She realized that there was no place to hide, and she was about to be found no matter who was at the door. Collecting herself, she stood tall. She'd be damned if she would let Tigh have the honor of finding her cowering in fear. She moved directly in front of the hatch, and with every ounce of courage she could muster, she stood tall, proud, and determined to meet her fate with the dignity required of the President of the Twelve Colonies of Kobol.
Still, she couldn't help but hold her breath as the latch spun counterclockwise. Then without fanfare, the hatch pushed inward, and a sole figure pushed through the gap, closing it just as quickly. She breathed out in relief as she recognized the woman as Captain Davenport.
"Rebecca, it's good to see you," she started amicably. "I assume you have news?" she asked.
Rebecca looked past the false bravado that the President wanted to convey. Despite the brave face and genial tone; her face was drained of color, and she was clearly anxious.
"Sorry to have startled you Madame President," she started. Rebecca paused for a moment, allowing the President to relax slightly.
"Yes, I have news," she said brightly. "The Zephyr is sending a shuttle this evening at 19:00. After the scheduled personnel and equipment have been loaded, Mr. Campara will discreetly slip you into the cargo area of the ship."
Laura held up her hand to stop Rebecca from continuing her briefing. "Please tell me that I'm not to be stuffed in another packing crate." A pained look of displeasure washed very her features. "I'm growing rather tired of that routine, not to mention the toll it takes on my back," she finished with a forced smile for levity.
Rebecca responded instead with a sincere smile. "No ma'am, I have much more comfortable accommodations for you," she answered as she handed a package to the President. "These even come with a seat," she finished brightly.
Laura took the package from the ship's Captain and immediately began removing its contents. "Oh, thank the gods," she said as she pulled out a Bill Thurston duty uniform, complete with a cap and a hair tie. There was even a clipboard she noted in amusement. Sliding out the clipboard she noticed one more item in the bag. She pulled out a pair of the ugliest, thick plastic, black framed eyeglasses that she had ever seen. "You know I only need glasses for reading?"
"Yes ma'am. They're safety glasses, standard gear for Stevedores," she answered easily. "I want you to stay out of site when the ship docks with the Zephyr. Wait a few moments after the hatch is opened and then casually exit the ship as soon as it's clear. Any Zephyr crew will assume you're from our ship."
Laura looked at Rebecca for a few long seconds, silently running the process through her mind. "And once I'm out of the shuttle. Then what?"
Rebecca handed her a clipboard in response. "Stand next to the shuttle and pretend that you're checking the equipment coming out with the manifest on your clipboard. While you're doing that Dani Miller, she is the loadmaster on the Zephyr, will come up to you and take you to quarters they have set up for you."
Rebecca studied the President's face, looking for any signs of fear or doubt; she found none. "Captain Johns will take care of any needs you have after that," she finished.
Laura remained silent for a minute, carefully assimilating the captain's plan. Her itinerary committed to memory; Laura returned her attention to Rebecca. "Thank you, Captain."
"Madame President, I have to get back before I'm missed. It's been an honor…" her voice trailed off, uncertain how to finish.
The President stepped to the troubled Captain with her hand extended. She waited a moment for Rebecca's and then took both in hers. Laura focused on the captain, her eyes seeming to pierce all the way into her soul. "All of this is part of the Gods' plan. We will find Earth and safety and when we do, it will be because of the sacrifices that everyone of us has and will make," she implored her reluctant conspirator.
Laura waited for a response from the captain. Rebecca merely nodded in agreement before silently making her way to the hatch and then into the ship. Leaving her alone again.
Laura looked at her watch and cursed. She still had several hours before the shuttle arrived. Sighing in resignation, she pulled out her speech to review. Try as she might, she couldn't focus on the work. Finally giving up, she pulled out the lone book from her bag. It was a large and heavy hardbound biography of Daniel Graystone, the man who invented the Cylons. She had burrowed it from the Commander shortly after the fall. She had hoped it would give her insight into their twisted creations, and though it was certainly compelling, she didn't know if or how it could help her guide her people to safety. Laura opened the book to where she had left off, quickly found her place on the page and scrolled back to review the previous few paragraphs. Before she realized it, she was immersed in the text, trying to glean anything from the creator of their enemy that could help her people survive.
Bill Thurston-12: Bridge; Evening Watch
Rebecca had told her crew that she was restless when she arrived on the bridge two hours into the evening shift. It wasn't entirely a lie, but more importantly, the President's shuttle would be arriving soon, and she needed to make sure that the transfer went smoothly. Passing the time, she reviewed the daily logs from various departments filed throughout the day. To the unknowing, all seemed completely normal.
"Captain," the navigator called out. "Shuttle 216 from the Zephyr is requesting docking clearance."
Rebecca involuntarily tensed at the announcement from the officer. "Thank you, Ms. Rosaria. Clear them to land in the Starboard Hangar, Slot A-7."
"Yes, Ma'am" she called back easily.
Rebecca put on an air of feigned casualness as she watched the young navigator relay the landing instructions to the incoming shuttle. With her heart in her throat, she gently reached for the phone attached to her station.
"Security, Campara here." bellowed out of the receiver.
She relaxed inwardly at the sound of his voice. "Shuttle 216 from the Zephyr is inbound; I need you to meet them in the Starboard Hangar."
Camp paused momentarily, "Understood Skip, I'm on my way." he answered easily.
'Almost there...' she thought quietly. Trying her best to appear unconcerned, she opened the engineering logs from the previous watch and pretended to study them. Interminable minutes seemed to pass as she blankly devoured her chief engineers report.
"Captain, Shuttle 216 reports they are secured and ready for departure," the assistant navigator and communication officer called out to Rebecca.
"Tell them they are cleared for departure, Naomi," she replied easily. Rebecca smiled as she watched the supply shuttle exiting the hangar and slowly move away from her vessel. She savored her small role helping the President and supporters escape the clutches of the lunatic Colonel terrorizing the fleet.
End Chapter 1