Chapter 28 - Off the Deep End
Demetrius, Unknown System - November, 2249
Russki kept her Starfury on Starbuck's wing as they shot through space, cruising their patrol route. So far, so good. In fact, this little turn of events was going far better than she expected. The moment Starbuck had sat down in the cockpit of her Viper, it was like a switch had flipped. She was suddenly her old self. Professional. Calm, cool and collected. Not the ranting, half-mad CO they had grown accustomed to. Perhaps I should have dragged her out here sooner, Russki thought.
"Come on. Come on. Come on." Starbuck's voice half murmured, half whispered over the open comms channel.
Oh frag. I thought too soon, Ivanova cursed to herself. It's not bad enough I have to keep my mouth shut to keep the Universe from hearing. Now I have to edit my thoughts? Taking a deep breath she said, "Starbuck, Russki. Didn't quite catch that. What are your orders?"
Apparently she was transmitting on the full squadron net, because Helo felt the need to chime in. "Russki, Demetrius. You know the drill. Keep your eyes open and stick close to Starbuck's wing."
"I know you're out here somewhere. Come on!" Starbuck continued to rant, ignoring the byplay and apparently unaware she was still transmitting.
Russki's DRADIS lit up, blaring an alarm at her. "Frag. Starbuck! DRADIS contact! Demetrius we've got a contact. One bogey bearing carom…" Russki cursed again silently, flogging her brain to do the math transitioning from standard degrees to the Colonials' bizarre coordinate system. "One-four-niner."
"Roger that," came Helo's immediate response, and Susan knew he would be busy getting Demetrius and her crew ready to flee.
Starbuck maintained her course, undeviating, heading for intercept rather than turning about to run. And then the bogey came into view. "Son of a bitch. I knew it," she said, still transmitting. Susan ignored her.
"Demetrius , Russki. I've got visual. Cylon Heavy Raider." The damned thing was smoking and tumbling, but Susan wasn't taking any chances. She armed her missiles...and thank God Commodore Sheridan had authorized the transfer of fighter missiles...and prepared to blow the thing away.
"Starbuck, Demetrius. Report," came Helo's voice. "Report!" he snapped, when Kara failed to answer.
Starbuck continued to ignore him, zooming in for a good look at the Heavy Raider, and Russki reluctantly held her fire, following Starbuck in for a good look. If Starbuck wasn't going to keep Helo appraised, she damned sure would. "Demetrius, I'm seeing blast damage all over this thing. Starbuck, what are your orders?"
"Come on," came their CO's response, though apparently not in reply to Russki. "Talk to me. Shoot me. Do something."
"Starbuck," Russki commed, deciding to push things a little, "I have weapons locked. Do I have permission to fire?" Still no response. "Starbuck," she prodded, "can I smoke this turkey?"
"Holy frak!" came a new voice. "I surrender! I'm alone. It's not an attack. Please….don't kill me." The voice got a little squeaky towards the end.
"What?" came Starbuck's confused response. "Who...who is this?"
"Ummm….it's Aaron. Aaron Doral."
"The PR Executive?" Her mind was apparently not tracking, going back to an old memory.
"No," Helo's voice snapped over comms, "the godsdamned Cylon! Starbuck, open fire!"
"I surrender! I surrender! Holy frak, I surrender!" When no response was forthcoming, he added, "I can offer a truce between Cylon and human. A chance for us all to get what we want!"
Starbuck was still silent….confused, thinking, asleep...Russki couldn't tell. So she made the call. "Mr. Doral, are you wearing a flight suit?"
"What? Yes. Why?"
"Because you have exactly five seconds to unass that bird. I don't like the look of it, so I'm removing it from my sky. You better hope your seals are good."
"What? Wait. You can't!"
"Firing missile in ten...nine...eight...seven...six...five...four...three..two...one...Fox Two!" she called out, then cursed silently, remembering that the Colonials didn't use that term. Less than a second before impact, she saw someone….presumably the notorious Mr. Doral...jump out a hatch. He'd be very lucky indeed if shrapnel didn't perforate his suit. Susan couldn't find it within herself to very much care.
.
Battlestar Galactica, Unknown System - November, 2249
"Colonel Tigh. Colonel Tigh, a moment of your time please," the barely heard voice shouted down the busy corridor.
Saul grimaced, considering just ignoring it. He was busy as hell, and had more than a few challenges, personal and professional, occupying his mind. Instead though, he spun about, preparing to chew the ass of whatever junior officer had the temerity to pester him when he was clearly occupied. Instead, he came face to face with Lee Adama. "Commander, Adama," he said in surprise. "I wasn't aware you were on board the Galactica. Did you need something?"
"Yes. I have a matter that's a bit...delicate, that... well, I was hoping to get your advice on. Do you have a moment for us to speak in private?"
Saul scowled. He respected Lee Adama. The kid was professional, skilled, and a damned hard worker, if more than a little wet behind the ears for his position. But Saul found that he just didn't like him very much. He was a little too noble. A little too high and mighty. Of course, Apollo's having literally held a gun to Saul's head not too terribly long ago probably added to the feeling.
On the other hand, of course, he was Bill's son, which carried its own weight for a number of reasons. An XO had to look out for their CO's well being on all levels, and sometimes that meant taking care of their snot-nosed brats. And Saul had always considered Bill Adama to be almost a brother. Which he supposed in some ways made Lee Adama family. So he would help him. Besides, you don't say no to someone who is a superior officer, or at least a higher ranking...Saul squashed the old joke before he could finish the thought. Because, if he was being honest with himself, Lee Adama had the potential and was well on his way to becoming every bit the officer his father was. And Saul was well aware that made him far and away the superior officer, where the two of them were concerned. So he simply nodded, made for the nearest hatch, and walked inside. It was a munitions locker, with a couple of Marines inside doing inventory. "Out," he barked, and they exited without a word. Saul waited for Lee to step into the room, then closed and dogged the hatch behind him. "What can I help you with, Commander?"
"Like I said, I need some advice. A few pieces, actually. And I believe you're the person best suited to provide them."
"What's this all about?"
"Kendra Shaw."
"Your new XO? The one you promoted to Major? Bill told me she was kicking all the right asses, straightening out the Beast for you. It takes a lot to impress your old man, so she must be a good officer. What do I have to do with her?"
"Just some advice. She is kicking ass...maybe a little too forcefully. She's constantly pushing, which I suppose I appreciate. And she and Starbuck can't get along at all. They may end up killing each other."
"I like her already," Saul quipped.
"Yes, well, they can't get along for the same reason you and Starbuck can't get along. They're too damned similar."
Saul bit back a retort, then sighed. "The Admiral once said the same thing to me. I gave him a lot of lip for it, but you're probably both right."
"You figured out how to work with Starbuck. You may not like her, but you get the job done. Starbuck and Shaw's dislike is starting to get in the way. How do I help them fix that?"
"Force them to work together. They'll either figure out how to get the job done, or one will kill the other. Either way, your problem's solved. What else?"
Apollo hesitated, clearly not liking the advice, but went on. "My father recently told me that a Commander and XO have to trust each other in order to do their jobs properly. I told him Shaw and I trusted each other to do our jobs. But that's not enough anymore. Shaw is Cain's Legacy. I'm supporting her, even though I'm repudiating everything else about Cain. I'm willing to trust the Major, but I feel like she's constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting me to get whatever use I need out of her and then toss her out the airlock. How do I earn her trust?"
"I don't think you'll like the answer," Saul replied truthfully.
"I wanna hear it anyway."
Saul sighed and ran a hand across his balding scalp. "You have to have her back. Plain and simple. You have to let her do her job, her way, even if you don't like it. So long as it doesn't cross any lines. You have to pick her up when she falls, look the other way when she screws up, and she will screw up. And, occasionally, you'll even have to cover for her. Even if it offends your sensibilities. I'd do anything for your father, because that's exactly what he's done for me. You can guide. You might even have to punish. But unless she really crosses the line, you can't wash your hands of her. Simple as that."
"That's far from simple."
"Doesn't make it wrong. You asked for my advice, and I gave it. Anything else?"
"Yes. Shaw's...hurting. From what happened with Cain, from the Fall, from the loss of her mother...it's like the sky fell in on her, even more than for the rest of us. She's mostly holding up...but I suspect she might be abusing something. Possibly alcohol, though it might be something...stronger. Any advice?"
Lee was being careful not to use the words, to mask the implications, and Saul appreciated that. It still stung though, and the implied question hung in the air between them. You were a stinking drunk, but you pulled yourself together. How the frak did you pull that off?
"The answer's the same as the last one. You can't just be her CO. You have to be her friend, even her brother, as much as she will let you. Do that, and if she's the officer you think she is, she'll find a way to pull her shit together. Now, if there's nothing else Commander, I'm late."
"Thank you, Colonel. You've been a big help."
.
Demetrius, Unknown System - November, 2249
Gaeta rushed onto the Command deck, intent on speaking with Helo. "We pulled the Cylon on board. The wreckage of the Heavy Raider appears completely inert. No life signs. No gamma emissions, so it wasn't packing any nukes. Starbuck and Russki are still taking one hell of a chance."
The Model Five was brought in, escorted by a pair of Marines. Half the crew still pulled their sidearms though, regardless of how pitiful the half frozen, half asphyxiated Cylon looked. The damned thing tried to smile at them. "I'm….unarmed?" Given his arms were both shackled and held by Marines, it was a ridiculous statement. And it still didn't cause a single crewman to lower their weapon. Starbuck and Russki entered, having parked their birds. "Captain," he said, "thank you for this. And thank God you were out there. I was praying for a miracle. I guess that makes the two of you angels."
He gave that creepy smile again. Apparently Russki didn't appreciate it, because she wiped it off his face with a right cross. Doral slumped to his knees, still held by the Marines, and Starbuck stepped forward to loom over him. "It wasn't a miracle. It's like I knew you were out there." The tension in the room crept up a notch as the crew digested her words. "I need you to tell me why you're here."
"Captain," Helo interrupted, not wanting the crew to hear anything else which might shake their faith further, "we should move the prisoner." The Marines stood the Cylon up, and started dragging him from the room.
"Kara Thrace will lead the humans home. And those who choose to accompany them," Doral shouted desperately, not struggling against the Marines.
Starbuck blinked, as confused as everyone else by the statement. "Stop," she commanded the Marines.
"That's what the Hybrid told us, before he died," Aaron said, doing his best to be convincing. "You are the Herald and the Harbinger. The Harbinger of Life. The life to which you will lead the humans. That has to mean Earth, right? You will lead the humans to Earth, and we can help you do it!"
"Earth's dead, asshole!" Russki spat.
"What?" the Cylon asked, confused.
"Burned up by a bunch of boneheads. My family along with it. So sell your snakeoil somewhere else. We're not buying."
They could see the wheels turning desperately behind Doral's eyes. "The...the Hybrid didn't specifically say Earth. Just that Kara Thrace would lead the humans to their new lives. And that we could go with you! So maybe it's not Earth. But a new home. You can give your people a new home! It has to be you! The Hybrid said so." He looked at Starbuck desperately. "We have Hybrids in our fleet. Not the same, but still….they should be able to tell you what you need to know. You need to go to them."
Helo stepped between Starbuck and the prisoner. "We're done here. Get him out of my sight."
"Wait!" Starbuck snapped. "Take him to my quarters." The whole room went silent as everyone stared at her. "Just do it," she snapped. As an afterthought, she added, "Russki, you're with me."
.
Susan stood disbelievingly in Starbuck's room as the Captain showed off one of her murals after another to the Cylon named Doral. Apparently the man, Susan almost felt sorry for him, couldn't believe it either, because he didn't have much to say. At one point he even shot a glance to Susan, clearly asking for help. Not that he was going to get any. Let this toaster deal with Starbuck for a bit, so Susan didn't have to. She almost chuckled.
Kara had started to paint something, and apparently became frustrated with Doral's lack of involvement. "Here!" she snapped, thrusting out the brush. "The gods brought you here, or your Cylon God, or destiny, or the Lords of Kobol, or I don't give a frak who. You're part of this. Add your part."
"Wha…? Umm… I'm not very artistic."
Starbuck grabbed his hand, placed the brush inside, closed his fingers around it, then slammed his head up against the bulkhead. "Paint," she hissed. "And then tell me what it means."
Doral looked at the wall. Then, hesitantly, he began to paint. The brush had been loaded with the yellow of the stars Kara had been detailing. Aaron, placed the brush against the wall, and slowly began a curve. It swooped downward, around, and back up to rejoin itself, forming a rough but clear circle. Reaching inside, he put a dab of paint in the dead center. Then another, up and to the left, but still within the circle. Moving to the right, he laid out another, forming what appeared to be an inverted isosceles right triangle, with the apex at the center of the circle.
"It's...a coordinate system?" Starbuck asked, leaning in intently.
Doral added another curve, below the center point of the circle, completing his smiley face. He turned to Starbuck, and did his best to mimic the drawing, plastering a large, hopefully comforting smile on his face.
Starbuck drew her sidearm and wiped the smile away by smashing the butt down and across his nose and lip. Doral fell back against the wall, spitting blood, and Starbuck raised the gun back up to strike again. "You think this is a joke?!" she screamed.
Susan rushed forward and grabbed onto Starbuck, holding her back from beating the Cylon to death. Helo burst through the door, calling for the Marines. Doral spat more blood, as the Marines rushed in and grabbed him. "You know what we have to do," the Cylon said pleadingly. "I've told you already. Please. There isn't much time. They'll leave before much longer, and then I won't be able to find them."
"Get him out of here," Russki ordered the Marines. "Cuff him and lock him in storage." Doral stopped resisting and was carried away, and Susan closed the hatch behind them, then turned back to watch whatever Helo was planning to say to the Captain.
"What is going on with you?" Helo asked his Commanding Officer and friend. "Kara," he hissed, trying to get her to focus.
"He can help us. The Cylons...they know something. Someplace we can go to be safe. You heard him. I'm supposed to lead us to a new home."
"You believe him? After everything the Cylons have done? After Caprica? After the Cylons locked you up, pretending to be human, and performed surgery on you? It's frakkin' mind games!"
"I swear to the gods. This is not a dream. It's real." She turned pleading eyes on Susan. "Russki….tell him."
Susan hesitated. Finally she offered, "Starbuck's dreams are coming from somewhere. And I don't think the Cylons have the ability to do that. And this Cylon at least wasn't playing mind games with her. He believes what he says. And Captain…" she hesitated for another moment. "He thinks you're as nuts as most of the crew does. So looks like humans and Cylons have that much in common."
"Telepathy?" Helo asked, his face souring even more.
"What, now you gonna accuse me of playing Cylon mind games?"
.
Moments later, Russki and Helo had returned to the Command Deck, leaving Starbuck to rest and think. And Helo wanted to get a report from someone he was pretty sure was all there. Unfortunately, several others decided they wanted to hear it to. "So what the hell did he say, exactly?"
Susan grimaced. "He said that a civil war has broken out between the Cylons."
"Good," Ensign Diana Seelix responded. She had been pulling double duty as both a deck hand and Viper pilot, and was just as tired as anyone else aboard. "They can blow themselves to hell, for all I care."
"What would it matter?" Gaeta asked. "They'll just resurrect into new bodies. It might as well be a schoolyard brawl, for all the damage it will do to the Cylons in the long run."
"Actually Hardball," Russki responded, hesitantly, "Doral claims that his side was losing….that they were half the models, but only got a half dozen or so Baseships. He claims that it was the other side that manipulated the Cylons into the war...that they've been pulling the strings. That Doral and his faction were trying to stop them, but it came to war, and they lost big. They were desperate, so they blew up something called a Resurrection Hub and most of the Resurrection ships. He claims that Resurrection is...gone. That the Cylons can't possibly get it back. They're mortal now, and since they haven't been able to figure out breeding…..they're all going to be dead after several decades…a century at most."
"I can't wait," Gaeta scoffed. "At least if I thought it was true. So these 'good' Cylons want what...for us to rescue them? That's..novel."
"He's proposing an alliance between us and whatever is left of their fleet. He claims that between Starbuck and their Hybrids...there's some home or place of refuge out there for us to go to. That they can get us there."
"How's that supposed to work?" Hardball asked.
"Yeah, are we supposed to let them piggyback on our nav and FTL systems and help them jump out of harm's way?"
"He claims they would join the fleet."
"Right," Gaeta scoffed.
"If it's true," Helo said thoughtfully.
"Frak," Hardball spat angrily and looked between Helo and Russki, "are you actually thinking about doing this?"
"XO, listen," Gaeta tried reasoning. "Bringing Doral on board, that was questionable at best. But jumping back to his fleet? It's suicide."
"Nothing's been decided," Helo offered, placatingly.
His wife was having none of it. "What, you trust Starbuck to make the right decision? Because she's out of control."
"Whoa, what exactly are you saying?" Russki asked, eyes boring into the woman, ironically, these people had begun thinking of as the 'good' Cylon.
"We are running on fumes, Ivanova. In two days we are gonna be overdue for our rendezvous with the Fleet. We gotta do something before she takes us all down with her."
Helo spread his glare between his wife and Gaeta both. "Are you talking mutiny? Because that's sure what it sounds like. You want to tear this ship apart, then keep riling up the crew making your crazy-Starbuck cracks. Otherwise, I suggest you both shut the frak up."
"Starbuck is leading us into a trap," Athena growled back, undeterred. "The Cylons are gonna capture the freighter, they're gonna have nav data straight back to the Fleet."
"Where the Nova will tear them a new asshole, should they do anything so stupid," Starbuck said, appearing over their shoulders. "But I suppose we better keep that from happening. It wouldn't do to have the fleet wanting to kill all Cylons again, now would it," she added, glaring at Athena. Then turning her gaze to Gaeta, she added, "Order the CAP back and lock down the ship. As soon as we can work through the jump coordinates Doral gave us, we go." Several of them stared at her resentfully, so she snapped, "It's a chance to find Earth! I intend to take it."
.
Russki stared down at the bleeding, unconscious form of Lieutenant Pike. Hardball was crouched over him, making certain he was still breathing. Things were getting worse.
Starbuck had just come in and announced her intention to take the Demetrius to the Cylon rebel fleet. That she knew that fleet had something to do with her mission. With finding a new home. She had ordered Helo to lock down and prep the ship, then just left, uncaring of the chaos into which she had just dropped the crew.
Pike made clear his intention to go after her, and Helo had moved to stop him. They'd exchanged heated words, and Pike had said something about Helo favoring Cylon things. Helo slammed an uppercut into Pike's solar plexus. While Pike was doubled over, gasping, Helo had reached up and drawn his sidearm.
Uncertain what the Captain was about to do, Susan had stepped forward and knocked Pike out with a right to his jaw. Helo had stared at her in shock...and perhaps gratitude.
God. She hoped and prayed this madness would stop...before she had to stop it.
.
Gaeta's voice rang out over the shipwide, while Helo stood at his station in the jury rigged CIC, doing his best not to think about what was happening. "Action stations, action stations. Set condition one throughout the ship."
Athena, standing next to her husband, wasn't prepared to let him off so easily. "Are you really gonna do this?" she asked, eyes boring into him. Eyes he had learned to trust just as much as love.
"I don't have any choice."
"Yes, you do."
Starbuck strode into the room a second later, Russki on her tail. Instead of responding to his wife, Helo reported, "FTL's spooled, Captain."
Thrace nodded. "Good. Set the clock."
Helo stepped in front of her, attempting to make eye contact. "Captain. Captain, I'm asking you to reconsider."
"There's not enough time," she dismissed. "We don't go now, we lose our shot."
"That's assuming we believe the Cylon," Gaeta cut in passionately. "That's assuming we believe that Doral's coordinates are right, we don't jump into a nest of baseships, or the middle of a star."
"Galactica's standing orders are clear," Helo continued to argue vehemently, barely restraining himself from shouting, leaning farther forward to try to get through to her. "If we miss the rendezvous, Adama will assume we're dead or captured. They will leave us."
"No. Not Adama."
"Listen to me, we can jump back to Galactica, okay, if the Admiral's for it, we can re-supply. Send out an armed patrol."
Starbuck, leaned forward above the plot, making close eye contact with her XO. "Do not do this, Helo," she said, barely above a whisper.
Helo held her eyes for several long moments. Saw the resolve and inflexibility there. Finally, he leaned back "I can't allow you to risk the lives of this ship's crew."
Kara practically snarled. "When the Admiral put me in command, he told me to trust my instincts. Find the next marker, see if it checks out. Lead the people from the Fleet home. That is what I intend to do. Now…prepare to jump!"
"I'm sorry Sir, but I cannot obey that order," Helo offered, shaking his head sorrowfully.
Russki looked around, feeling the tension ratchet up towards the ceiling, as Starbuck responded, "Then you are relieved, Captain." She took a deep breath, and glanced over. "Mr. Gaeta, you are now the new XO. Prepare to jump on my mark."
"No, Sir."
Starbuck sent a shocked look at Felix. Russki knew she had to speak up, before things spiraled any more. "Okay, everybody needs to think about what they're doing here. Take a breath people."
Kara was still staring at Gaeta in disappointment, but called back over her shoulder. "They have thought about it, Susan. They all have. It's a mutiny."
Helo, stepped forward, profound sadness etched across his face. "Captain Thrace, as XO of the Demetrius , and acting under Article X of the Colonial Military Code, I'm hereby relieving you of command."
Kara wasn't going to just back down. Maybe, if she showed enough spine, she could short circuit this mutiny and find a way to move ahead with her plan. She took her hands off of the plot and stood up straight, glaring daggers at Helo. "You son of a bitch. I'll do it myself." She turned and charged towards the jump controls. Gaeta intercepted, grabbing her from behind.
The whole CIC erupted into chaos. Russki had had enough, stepping forward. "What the hell are you doing, Helo?"
He spun on her, sticking a finger in her face. "Stand down!"
Susan glanced over at Starbuck. Athena now had her in a headlock, Gaeta assisting with keeping her under control. Hardball darted in, ripping away Starbuck's side arm, then covering Starbuck with both it and her own.
"Order the Marine guards to the Control room," Helo commanded, almost calmly, and was instantly obeyed. "Tell them I'm placing Captain Thrace under arrest."
"You're wrong, Helo. You're so godsdamned wrong," Starbuck spat.
"Either way, we're taking Doral and his proposal back to the fleet. We'll let the Admiral sort it out."
"You are throwing away our chance at finding a home. Refuge for both fleets!"
Russki took another shot. "You would be going back to Galactica as mutineers. How do you think the Admiral is gonna sort through that?"
"That's up to him," Helo said sharply, clearly meaning the matter wasn't up for discussion. "Mr. Gaeta. Reset the FTL for the jump back to the fleet."
"Right away, Sir." Felix moved quickly to comply.
"We should just airlock your Cylon ass," Hardball said acidly. Russki's head snapped around, barely hearing Starbuck's denial that she wasn't a Cylon. She had been unaware that the crew suspected Starbuck of being an infiltrator. This was beyond out of control. As matters stood, no matter how fast the FTL jump went, there was a good chance that Kara would experience an 'accident,' before the Admiral had a chance to bring order to the situation. And whether she lived or died, the Admiral would have no choice but to airlock every single person who had participated in the mutiny. Which, at this point, was most of the crew. Good people. Her friends. Like hell she was going to let that happen.
Susan stepped forward again. "Gaeta, stop!" To the side, Starbuck drove an elbow into Athena's gut, slightly loosening her hold, then reached out, attempting to grab her sidearm back from Hardball. Hardball stepped forward, jamming both guns against Starbuck's head, apparently preparing to fire. "Gaeta, abort the jump!" she shouted. "I said abort the jump!"
A pair or Marines burst into the room, clearly confused by the chaos, and swinging their assault rifles to cover everyone, on the verge of violence. Hardball looked to be half a heartbeat away from ventilating Starbuck's cranium. And Gaeta was reaching to push the jump button, and set the mutiny in stone. It was too much, and Russki wasn't about to let anyone die. She made her decision.
With a scream, Lieutenant Gaeta suddenly shot up off of the floor, slamming into the ceiling, then dropped like a sack of potatoes, shouting in pain as he crumpled against the floor. The pistols leapt out of Hardball's hands, clattering against the ceiling. They were followed by every other sidearm in the room, save only Russki's own, all lumped up into a single inverted pile. That mound of weapons then detached itself from the ceiling, and flew past the Marines, who were forced to duck, and out the hatch. The Marines, still armed, stood up, a foggy look on their faces, and lowered their weapons. Calmly, they stepped back out of the room, closing and locking the hatch behind them.
Everyone froze. Starbuck looked around, pulling away from Athena, who was no longer resisting her. "What... what the frak just happened?"
"Did I forget to mention that I was telekinetic?" Russki asked, drawing her own sidearm. "Oops. Your orders, Captain Thrace?"
"So now what?" Helo barked. "You gonna give orders at gunpoint?"
Kara took a deep breath, trying to clear her mind. Sort through and analyze the situation. This was the old Starbuck, not the crazy CO they had seen for the last month. "You were right Helo. I never should have ordered Demetrius to jump to the rebel fleet. Too many lives to risk on a gut instinct."
"So, Demetrius goes back to the fleet?" he asked, confusion evident.
She nodded. "Missing a Raptor. I'm gonna take Doral back to the Cylons, see if his story checks out."
"Are you insane? The two of you alone?"
"She won't be alone," Russki insisted. "I'm going with her. Maybe you noticed, I can handle myself."
Starbuck looked over at Athena. "This is crazy, but I need you."
"What?"
"I need someone who speaks their language. If this is a trap...I wanna know about it."
"Hell yeah," Hardball opined, "let the Cylon go."
Athena winced at those words, but replied, "It's ok. I'll do it."
Helo was clearly shocked, mind racing for an argument to convince Starbuck. "No! Listen to me, your Raptor doesn't have enough fuel to get back to Galactica."
"But the Cylons do. We were sent out here by the Admiral to complete a mission. Not for me, but for the people of the fleet. Both fleets. Hells, maybe all three. And if I'm right, the payoff is safety. A real home. A chance to stop running."
Helo grimaced. "Lieutenant Costanza. What's the latest we can leave here and still make the rendezvous with the fleet?"
Hotdog ran some quick calculation. "Window closes...fifteen hours and seven minutes." He turned to Helo, clearly agitated. "That's cutting it really damn close."
Helo nodded. "Set the clock to fifteen hours and seven minutes and start it," he ordered, then locked eyes with Starbuck. "We'll be waiting here till the clock runs out."
.
Battlestar Pegasus, Unknown System - November, 2249
The most important members of two fleets gathered in the Pegasus's largest conference room. Standing at the entrance to the room, Doctor Gaius Balter, shook each person's hand as they arrived. "Thank you for coming. I know how busy your schedule must be. We appreciate you sharing your time with us. Thank you for coming." He said it over and over again as each person arrived, smile never faltering. Not even when President Roslin arrived. Or that snake Tom Zarek. Never mind the fact that it wasn't his ship to welcome them to. Certainly never mind the fact that he had finally been kicked out of the Vice Presidency less than a week prior, with Zarek now holding that honor. No. This was his show, his chance to hold onto power within this fleet. Well, his and Eilerson's. But Doctor Eilerson cared not one whit about political influence. He was over in the corner, eating an apple and reading a book. A transcription of the Sacred Scrolls, of all things. Well, if the odd Earthman wasn't going to soak up the prestige, Baltar would be happy to do it for him. He had even made certain to invite the members of the Quorum, as well as the highest ranking clergy. If he couldn't hold political office directly, then he would ensure that he was indispensable as a scientific advisor.
Lee and Bill Adama were the last to arrive, just after Commodore Sheridan, and Baltar welcomed them as well, holding out his hand to shake theirs. The Admiral declined...he was far from the first...but Commander Adama stepped forward and shook his hand. "Welcome to my own conference room, eh? That's...novel."
As the Adamas took their seats next to Roslin and Tigh, the Admiral sent a suspicious look towards the collection of Priests and Priestesses, and an even darker one towards the collection of Quorum Representatives. "I thought this was going to be a smaller meeting," he noted.
"We have every right to be here," Sara Porter, Representative of Gemenon said archly. The dark look she shot out, however, was aimed at Commodore Sheridan and the Earthforce officers accompanying him. Several others chimed in their agreement, Tory Foster tried to placate them, and a couple of priests variously called for calm and understanding, or open prayer and the benediction of the Lords of Kobol. The meeting devolved into chaos before it had even begun, and the Flag Officers prepared to depart.
From where he sat, still reading his book, Doctor Max Eilerson casually tossed the core of his finished apple in a high arc, directly over their heads and all the way across the room to slam noisily into a waste basket against the far wall. "Three points," he remarked to the now silent and staring room. "You can't do that in zero-G." Standing up, he continued, "Now, if everyone would just zip it, we can get this over with in time for you all to go and argue over lunch."
Gaius cleared his throat. "Yes. Well. That's probably for the best."
"Why are we here?" Sara Porter demanded.
Gaius gave her his most charming smile. She neither seemed to care nor notice. "Because confusion in our early meetings led Admiral Adama and Commodore Sheridan to request that we work jointly in investigating the strange confluence of our language and our conflicting understanding of whatever historical connection we might share."
"I should think that would be obvious," she snapped back. "They are the Thirteenth tribe which left Kobol. They speak our language because they are our kin. You didn't need to waste time on a study for that. It's all told in the Sacred Scrolls."
"With all due respect to the honorable Representative from Gemenon," Gaius replied cautiously, "We weren't speaking Caprican when we left Kobol. So after four thousand years of separation, and multiple language changes, how is it possible that they could be speaking Caprican now?"
"The will of the gods," she replied without hesitation.
"Yes...well...," he hesitated, "...maybe."
"What Doctor Baltar is trying to say," Max said, stepping up, "is that we're going to cover all this. So please save all questions for the end. Or better yet, realize that if we aren't providing the answer, it's because we haven't found it yet."
"Doctor Eilerson," Captain Sinlclair warned, "a little more decorum please."
"Sorry, Captain."
"I'd like to start," Gaius said, "with the Earther assertion that they are not the Thirteenth Tribe, and that in fact their habitation of Earth predates that of the Colonies, or even Kobol itself. The assertion that our descendants on Kobol actually came from their Earth."
"Ridiculous!" Porter spat, scandalized. "Clearly nothing more than a grab for political prominence. An attempt to minimize the equal standing of their fellow Tribes." Her words were met by murmurs of agreement from several of the members of the Quorum, as well as a significant chunk of the priesthood.
Admiral Adama turned and frowned at the assembly, taking off his glasses and slowly polishing them with his kerchief. This gradually brought them to silence. "It should be noted that our Earth friends outnumber all of our remaining Colonial citizens, combined, by roughly sixty to one. Their soldiers outnumber ours by an even higher ratio, and their citizenry of child bearing age higher still. Their warships are both more powerful and more numerous than our own. So no, I don't think this is an attempt to minimize our standing. Our standing is already well and truly minimized. Now, I'd like to hear the rest of Doctor Baltar's and Doctor Eilerson's presentation. If you please." He put his glasses back on and faced forward in his seat once more. Bending to his will, the Quorum and the Priesthood fell silent.
"Yes, well," Baltar resumed, "I've been studying the Earth historical and scientific databases, which they had the luxury of bringing with them. Aided by Doctor Eilerson, I have in particular attempted to absorb their sciences of Archeology and Paleontology. Genetics and Phylogeny as well, but we will get to that later. I must say...I find the evidence to be quite stunning, really. Both comprehensive and meticulous. Extremely compelling. While I try to be modest, for the sake of this presentation, I am compelled to admit that I am an expert, or at least well versed, in all of the sciences the Colonies had to offer. The fact that there were fields of knowledge and discovery I was unaware of was...well, I was quite shocked really. But I rebounded and rose to the occasion, and have quickly absorbed much of this new knowledge, aspiring to the same level of expertise."
"Absolutely," Eilerson agreed. "I've never seen an ego rebound so quickly."
The joke at Baltar's expense was largely met with silence, though he could see several members of the audience trying to suppress their mirth. One person snorted out loud, deafening in the near silent room. Baltar was mortified to see that it was the President. Almost as mortified as the woman herself clearly was. "I"m sorry," she gasped, raising a hand in apology, then using it to cover her mouth. Further suppressed chuckles racked her frame, but she managed to gasp out, "Do go on."
"Yes...alright... Well, the evidence and the science are both solid and unalterable. Humanity originated on their Earth. And they are not the Thirteenth tribe. They are all of the tribes, insofar as all thirteen tribes are descended from the people of their Earth."
"Why do you keep saying their Earth?" a member of the Quorum asked, though Gaius missed which one.
Eilerson responded for him, "Because this Thirteenth tribe of yours might still be out there somewhere. If so, no reason they might not have named their world Earth as well."
"That would be quite a coincidence," Lee Adama noted.
"Not really. Most of the alien homeworlds I've studied have a name that means either 'home' or 'soil.' It usually only happens when we have to start sharing those names with others that we get fancy and more descriptive." That remark caused a lot of consternation amongst the Quorum and priesthood. They'd been told of other alien species of course, but had largely shrugged it off as lies or superstition, in an attempt to maintain their own worldview.
"What sort of science proves these things?" Sara Porter finally asked.
"I've studied their records of ancient civilization, from both architectural and biological remains, as well as ancient writings of course. And I've studied up on their knowledge of genetics and evolution." He looked over at the Quorum and clergy. "Ahh...a word of which you are doubtless unaware. Evolution is the Earther word for the natural process by which living organisms change, develop and diversify over time. Those with alterations better adapted to the environment survive and procreate in greater numbers than those not so blessed, and over the course of time entire species can change, split, or come to an end. Another branch of knowledge of which I was unaware, but the evidence for which I have also found to be quite..."
"Heresy!" the shout thundered out across the room.
Gaius's head spun in surprise towards the source. The eldest of the clerics of the fleet, a man wearing the robes of the priesthood of Zeus, was standing and pointing a bony finger at Gaius. "Wh...what?"
"You may not discuss these things! They are not for the uninitiated. To put such topics into the public sphere is both treason and heresy, and you will stop!"
Laura turned to the old priest, shocked. "Father...how exactly is it that you seem well aware of something none of the rest of us had even heard of?"
He seemed entirely unimpressed and undeterred by her rank. "We will not discuss these things. It is the will of the gods!"
Surprisingly, it was Eilerson who spoke up next. Even more surprisingly, his words seemed somewhat diplomatic, though clearly also pleased with himself. "Yes, thank you, Sir. I do believe you have definitively given us all we need to know on the subject."
Apparently mollified by Max's words, the priest simply nodded and sat down, sparing one final glare for Baltar. More murmuring ran across the room.
"I guess that brings us back to language," Gaius said after a moment. "At our initial meeting, we discovered that more than just the Caprican language is spoken on Earth, simply under a different name. We had confirmed at least four. But now I can tell you definitively that every single language spoken in the Colonies has an Earth equivalent. Additionally, though this is more speculative, that also appears to be the case for every dead language we spoke in the past. For instance, the ancient tongue of the old Leonan Empire...on Earth they called it Latin. The odds against this being a coincidence are so far beyond astronomical that there simply isn't a good way to convey it. Suffice it to say, this was engineered by someone and is most definitely not a natural occurrence. Someone found a way to ensure that our languages were a copy of those on Earth."
"As I said," Porter cut in again, "this is clearly the will of the gods." This elicited more head nodding from the Clergy and the Quorum. "And don't you mean they wanted Earth to mirror the Colonies? Given our more sizeable population and territory, and our more advanced culture for most of the past few thousand years, that would seem far more likely." She sent a haughty glance over at the Earthforce officers, and spared another for Eilerson.
Max seemed more than a little amused. "More likely or not, we can say with near total certainty that wasn't the case. Language flowed from Earth to the Colonies...exclusively."
"How could you know that?" Porter scoffed.
"By doing our jobs. We went through your history books, interviewed your teachers and historians, checked every record you were able to bring with your fleet. Then we compared that to the far more comprehensive records our own fleet was able to bring from Earth. That wasn't meant to be bragging, by the way. The Exodus fleet was allowed far more time to prepare than the Colonial fleet had. Then we simply compared the dates. Every new word, indeed, every new language that has appeared in the Colonies has done so first on Earth. We have found no instances of words appearing in the opposite order.
"In fact, that leads to yet another point of evidence. You have noticed that there are some few words which are different between the Colonial and Earth languages. This seems to be due to the fact that the Colonies had an advanced, industrial, and even space-faring culture long before Earth did. So there were words and concepts that were absolutely required for that level of civilization...that simply didn't exist in the Earth language being borrowed. This leads to the relatively few but significant cases of words being generated within the Colonies. Words which never appeared on Earth. Take the word 'carom' for instance. A direction marker and coordinate system for finding a heading in three-dimensional space. Critical for navigating interstellar or even interplanetary space. The word has been in use for centuries, since long before any Earth civilization had to think about such things in any but the most abstract of ways. Of course, all of this makes sense, given the different way words and languages were introduced in the Colonies versus on Earth."
The Quorum representative seemed ready to argue, while the priests and priestesses seemed rather agitated. But it was Captain Sinclair who spoke up next, the matter having apparently piqued his interest. "The development of words and languages is chaotic. How could it be different on the Colonies than on Earth?"
Eilerson frowned, apparently finding tiresome the task of having to explain further. "On Earth, speech formed organically. Be it words or entire languages, they were generated by people and communities and cultures to meet the needs of their day. When something new came about...a new object or concept or task...a word naming that thing would soon follow. And they would change further with movement across regions, usage over time, and the changing environment around them. Without getting into forbidden biological terminology," Eilerson noted, casting a glance at the clergy, "it is fair to say that on Earth, language would change and grow over time, almost as if alive."
"And that's not how it worked in the Colonies?" Sinclair asked.
"Not at all," Roslin cut in, surprising everyone. She appeared both intrigued and excited. It was a side of her few had seen. Not the jaded politician, but the passionate educator. Indeed, she seemed to have forgotten about most of the people in the room. "You have to understand that the last century has been far and away the most secular in our long history. And Caprica, the political and economic center of the Colonies during that time, was the most secular of all. Freedom of Religion was a Caprican experiment. But for most of our history, regardless of the rise and fall of planets or empires, it was the priesthood who held the utmost authority. And language was under the exclusive domain and authority of the clergy. There were...there still are...religious festivals where new words or meanings were handed down. Some of the most contentious times in our history came when the priesthood would implement a new language, or move to terminate an old one. That led to secular uprisings and attempts at religious reformation over the millenia, but these were always put down by the church. Recently, many Caprican academics have researched how and why the priesthood would do this. I've read several papers on the subject."
"Academics," snapped a querulous voice. "You mean agnostics and atheists and heretics. The fallen who have betrayed the faith of their ancestors, and failed to heed the truth of the Sacred Scrolls. You call them academics, Madame President. I call them fools. But I will tell you what we have told them, time and time again. We do not make up the words. We do not invent the languages. We are not capricious masters, treating the Colonies as our play things. The words are gifts. Given to us by the gods. Given to us, to share with their children."
Eilerson nodded, clearly bemused. "Perhaps so."
Roslin turned surprised eyes on him. "Really Doctor Eilerson? You believe the religious dogma? I'm sorry, you had struck me as exactly the kind of 'agnostic fool' the Father was just talking about. I'm surprised to hear that you might agree with him. Especially since Earth is primarily monotheistic."
Eilerson seemed thoughtful, then opened his mouth to reply, when Sheridan held up his hand. Eilerson stepped back, and Sheridan turned his head to answer Roslin's question. "Madame President. The evidence tells a pretty compelling tale. Someone pulled humans off of Earth thousands of years before even your history began. Someone has been doing the impossible by ensuring the languages of Earth and the Colonies more or less match, presumably to make our eventual reunion go more smoothly. I've seen a lot of things in my time. I've met and even fought aliens with cultures far older and more advanced than I would have believed possible. I've even witnessed the birth of, for lack of a better word, a space god. So do I believe that this was all accomplished by some individual or group with a great deal of power? Yes I do. And do I believe it is possible that this group may have called themselves...or at least been named by the Colonials...gods, or the Lords of Kobol, or whatever else your Sacred Scrolls may name them? Yes, I believe that is possible. I even believe that is where the facts point us. It even means that I will be watching out for them, in case they happen to still be around and taking an active interest in current events. That doesn't mean I worship these beings."
"Well," came the old priest's chuckle, "one thing at a time, Commodore. One thing at a time." He looked over at Baltar and Eilerson. "Thank you for your presentation, Doctors. Despite skirting the edge of heresy, I found it to be quite enlightening. Indeed, an edited copy of these events might someday be added to the Sacred Scrolls. You have done the work of the gods."
Laura's brain told her to shut up and take the win, but she found she couldn't stop herself. "Really, Father? You're happy with what they've said here? Doesn't it...fly in the face of the Sacred Scrolls and our religious history?"
Many of the clergy nodded at her words, but the old man just chuckled again. "I'm sure some will see it that way, but I have spent my life studying the Scrolls. They detail that the gods created man. But they begin telling our tale at the height of Kobol's power and advancement. They say nothing about what came between those two points. And they certainly never say that the gods created man on Kobol. And if the gods intended for us to eventually reunite with our progenitors, to bring to them our true religion, and gifted us the language to do it...how can that be seen as anything but a miracle? The faithful will have much to think about and discuss after this. But to me at least, one thing is obvious."
"And that is?"
"We have met our ancestors. That only increases the need to find our brothers and sisters in the Thirteenth tribe. It would seem to be the will of the gods that we all be reunited. So we are still looking for Earth. Just...a different one, apparently."
Laura opened her mouth to speak again, but Bill leaned over and put his hand on her arm, silencing her. "Let it go for now, Laura. Let him believe what he wants. Maybe he's even right. But for right now...no reason to go stirring up the hornets' nest."
.
Demetrius, Unknown System - November, 2249
Starbuck took a deep breath. "Ok," she ordered, "time to kick the hornets' nest."
"Three, two, one, jump," Athena called out. The Raptor was enveloped with a flash of light, and between one heartbeat and the next, the Demetrius vanished and a disperse nebular cloud appeared.
"No contacts. Nothing on scopes." Russki called out from her station in the rear. "The cloud isn't particularly dense, but it's highly ionized. Interfering with DRADIS. There could be an army and a brass band out there, and we wouldn't pick it up."
"That's why we chose this location," Doral explained from where he sat chained up, doing his best to look around. "Good hiding."
"Looks like it's Mark I eyeball time," Kara muttered. "This is it. This is the place. I can hear it."
"Umm...is she ok?" Doral asked, looking nervously at Starbuck.
"Shut up," Susan snapped. "I can hear it too. At least….through her I can."
"What the frak does that mean?" Athena asked.
"That she's not crazy. A little too wound up, hell yeah. But not crazy."
"Got a course for us?"
"Give me the ship," Starbuck ordered.
Athena hesitated, but then handed off control to the Captain. "Starbuck, do you have any idea where the hell you're going?"
Starbuck didn't respond, continuing to fly, eyes scanning the heavens desperately. And then she saw it. With a half hysterical laugh she called out, "The royal crown of Cassiopeia, the five diamonds blazing through the sky! It's...it's the Cylon fleet!" She sounded surprised herself. But indeed, there ahead of them, five Cylon Basestars flew in a rough 'W' formation. Their hulls attracted the ionized gas, which clung to them in ionized sparkling radiance. At this distance, they looked very much like the sparkling stars of some storybook, their arms extending like rays of light. "This is what I was meant to see!" Starbuck laughed with joy. She really wasn't nuts. Even she had begun to doubt.
.
Rebel Flagship, Unknown System - November, 2249
Coming in for a landing on the lead Basestar had been almost anticlimactic. Athena had called ahead, asking for permission to dock. The response had been extremely brief, simply giving a specific docking point. As they had come closer, gotten past the clouds of ionized gas, the true state of the rebel fleet had become apparent. They were shot to hell, wounds open all over the structure. But they were at least more or less intact, no structural members missing, clearly still functional.
Athena had landed, immediately heading out to inspect her craft, while Starbuck performed post flight checks and shutdown from inside.. "Captain," Russki called out, "you better take a look at this."
Starbuck and Doral both looked out the port side , to the sight of Athena speaking vehemently with roughly a dozen other Eights. They left, and moments later Athena came back aboard.
"What was that all about?" Susan asked.
"Frakkin' politics. I hate frakking politics. They actually wanted me to lead a mutiny against the Sixes. Well...and Boomer. By the way, Boomer's on board. And apparently part of the leadership. So that's great."
"What did you tell them?" Doral asked curiously.
"I told them where they could stick it! They're sheep. They don't know what they want or where they're going, and sure as hell don't know how to pick a side and stick to it. Frak 'em. Who needs it?"
"We might," Susan noted.
"I know it's a lot to ask," Starbuck added, "but if politics are in play, then this mission might be even less straightforward than we thought. There are dangers all around us. But if the Fives are on our side, and you can influence the Eights...that would give us at least half of the Cylons. Maybe more." She held up her hands placatingly, "I'm not asking you to lead a revolution. Just be ready to talk to your...people? Sisters? Frak, I'm sorry. I should have figured out how to talk to you by now."
"It's alright. I'll...do what's necessary."
There was a long silence after that, as they all tended to their own thoughts. Finally, it was filled by an uneasy Aaron Doral. "So...ummm….you want to speak to the Hybrid first, or talk to the Council?"
"Hybrid," Starbuck replied immediately, and they all rose and made for the hatch.
Starbuck, followed by Doral with Russki and Athena immediately behind, hadn't even touched the Basestar's deck yet when they were met by a quintet of angry looking Sixes, storming up. "Plan B, I guess," Doral muttered nervously.
"What are you doing?" the one in the center demanded of Doral. "You want to give her access to the central nervous system of this ship?"
Kara looked them over, glad that Boomer wasn't with them, though the Sixes were bad enough. And though there were clear visible differences...hair, mannerisms, style of dress….she had no idea which was which, despite Doral's instruction. And, if she was being honest with herself, the damned blondes gave her the creeps. Of course, that might have something to do with getting her ass handed to her by one of them on Caprica...even if she walked away from that fight and the Six didn't. She knew that each of these women were stronger and faster than she would ever be. Of course, so was Doral, but that didn't stop him from being a pussy.
Which is why she was shocked when his spine suddenly straightened, and he leaned forward, using his position on the steps to loom above the tall blondes. "We discussed this. Starbuck is the key to us...and them...getting what we want."
The Six in the center took half a step back. "We agreed on an alliance…" she started to object.
Kara cut her off. "You want an alliance, I see the Hybrid. That's how I find our future."
Doral leaned even farther forward, getting right into their faces. All five either leaned or shuffled backwards a bit more. "There's no way around it," he almost growled. "What are you gonna do? Grab their Raptor? Hack their jump drive? We don't have time to figure out their systems before Cavil finds us. And if by some miracle we do figure it out in time? What then? Do we just keep running? How long before we run out of fuel, food, ammunition? How long before Cavil's forces hunt us down? Like it or not, we have to work with the Colonials. That means Starbuck sees the Hybrid."
The Sixes were silent….whether thinking on his words or just intimidated, Starbuck couldn't tell. But she felt the need to drive home the point. "Or you can kiss your asses goodbye."
The Six in the center, whether spokesperson or leader, looked at her in distaste. "It looks as if we have no choice." She turned and began to walk away, followed by her sisters. She called out over her shoulder, "But first we link the drives." She continued walking.
Doral made as if to follow her, but Starbuck grabbed his shoulder to stop him. "What the frak was that?" she asked sotto voce. She smiled, hoping the Sixes wouldn't notice.
"What was what?" he asked uncomfortably, also under his voice.
Athena leaned in. "A few hours ago you were whimpering for your life, and I'm pretty sure you soiled yourself. Now you're growling at blondes like you're some kind of hot shit? When exactly did that happen?"
"Does it matter?" he asked, clearly uncomfortable. "Look... I've got a good thing going here. I'd...really appreciate it if you guys could not screw it up for me. Please?" he added hopefully.
Athena scoffed. "And why in the hell should we help you?"
"Because I'm also on the Council, and the stronger my position, the stronger your position."
All three of the ladies frowned at that, but the truth was hard to argue. "Fine," Starbuck finally allowed. "From here on out you're the swingin' dick. Come on, Big Man, lead the way."
They set off after the Sixes, Doral in the lead. He led them to the Basestars equivalent of a CIC, lights flashing everywhere in reds, golds, and blues. Athena stepped forward when it became obvious what they were here for. She set her hand into the liquid of a data interface station, accessing the appropriate info. Then she winced, as more data than she had dealt with in quite a while poured into and through her synapses. "Ok, we can do this. They've taken a lot of damage, and we'll need to jump together to make sure neither Demetrius nor the Admiral decide we're the enemy and open fire. We'll have to slave their jump drives to our Raptor's spin sync generator. That means interfacing directly with the local Hybrid."
"So just do it already," Starbuck ordered.
"On it."
"You work the interface, I'll go talk to this Hybrid. Russki, you're on me."
.
"...and guide us to the other side of the river. All these things at once and many more. Not because it wishes harm, but because it likes violent vibrations to change constantly. Then shall the maidens rejoice at the dance. Structural integrity of node seven restored. Repressurising." The Six known as Sonja led Starbuck, Russki, and Aaron Doral into the Hybrid room. The Hybrid, guarded by a lone Centurion of a variety Starbuck had only seen in museums and pictures of the last war, sat in a bizarre looking pool...bathtub perhaps...that sat in the center of the room. Lights flashed from the walls and ceiling of the otherwise empty room. The Hybrid...apparently a female and appearing to be about Starbuck's own age...was speaking in mostly nonsensical phrases. It seemed to be almost a rant...and almost poetic. "The children of the one reborn shall find their own country. The intruders swarmed like flame. Like the whirlwind. Hopes soaring to slaughter all their best against our hulls."
Starbuck moved to stand above the pool, with Sonja taking her position on the opposite side. Doral and Susan held back near the door. "I'm here," Starbuck spoke to the woman. You wanted me here. So…"
"Replace control accumulators four through nineteen. They'll start going ripe on us pretty soon. Compartmentalise integrity conflicts with the obligation to provide access. FTL sync fault uncorrected. No ceremonies are necessary." Starbuck stood in confusion, staring at the woman in the pool, speaking her riddles like some sorceress out of legend or mythology. She wasn't done. "Then shall the maidens rejoice at the dance. Structural integrity of node seven restored. Repressurising. The children of the one reborn shall find their own country. End of line. Reset." It just went on and on, and Kara kept listening. Hoping for something meant for her. Hoping for something plain and understandable. Hoping for some spark or connection. "Track mode monitor malfunction traced. Recharge compressors. Increase the output to 50 percent. Assume the relaxation length of photons… Transfer contact is inevitable, leading to information bleed. FTL sync fault stands uncorrected. No ceremonies are necessary…"
Kara had enough. She tried to interrupt, leaning down to speak directly into the woman's face. "I don't understand."
"Centrifugal force reacts to the rotating frame of reference. The obstinate toy soldier becomes pliant. The city devours the land."
"You can't hurry her," Sonja advised from nearby. "You have to absorb her words. Allow them to caress your associative mind. Don't expect the fate of two great races to be delivered easily."
The Hybrid kept speaking throughout. "Assume the length of photons in the sample atmosphere is constant. Intruders swarmed like flame, like the whirlwind. Hopes soaring to slaughter all their best against our hulls. All these things at once and many more. Not because it wishes harm, but because it likes violent vibrations to change constantly. Reset."
Athena walked into the room, followed by half a dozen other Eights, who just seemed to want to be around her. "We're rigged and ready. We just need to do the final connection and slave her before we miss the rendezvous. Any luck, Captain?"
"Not a frakkin' thing."
"But you hold the spark of a god's fire. Core update complete."
"Frak it! Slave the damn thing. Let's get the frak out of here." Upon Starbuck's command, Sonja nodded, and one of the Eights moved to comply. She opened a hatch in the floor, and began making adjustments to the cables therein.
"Threat detection matrix enabled. Dendritic response bypassed. Dose is altered by the delayed gamma burst. Going active. Execute. The children of the one reborn shall find their own country. End of line." The moment when the slaving was complete was unmistakable. The Hybrid lurched up in her bath, head thrown back, and let out one long, unending wail. Like she was being killed. Like she was being violated.
The Centurion reacted violently, hefting his assault rifle, and taking immediate aim at the Eight. Starbuck and Russki drew their sidearms. Everyone was shouting
"Stop!" Doral commanded, tone demanding to be obeyed. Shockingly, the Centurion looked over to him and slowly, almost reluctantly, lowered his weapon. The Hybrid continued to wail.
How does she have the breath? Starbuck wondered. "Athena!"
"What the hell happened?" Russki completed her thought.
Starbuck leaned down over the pool, getting right into the screaming woman's face, feeling the breath wash over her. "What do you want from me? Please, I need you."
The wail stopped, and the Hybrid's eyes focused, looking directly into Kara's own. Her hands rose up out of the water, cupping Kara's face from both sides. She smiled happily, eerily. "Thus will it come to pass. The undying leader will know the truth of the Opera House. The three will give you the five who have come from the home of the 13th. You are the harbinger of Death, Kara Thrace. You will lead them all to their end. End of line." Her hands fell away, but the smile remained.
Kara was stunned. "But...but I thought I was the Harbinger of Life," she protested. "Please…"
There was no response, and the Eight completed the slaving procedure. The Hybrid's eyes once again went out of focus.
"She will lead us to the end," Doral mused. "We will now know the truth of the Opera House."
"The home of the 13th," Sonja added.
Still stunned, Kara turned to them. "What?"
Sonja replied, "The Hybrid said, 'the missing three will give you the five who have come from the home of the 13th.' The home of the 13th tribe of humans."
"And 'the five,'" Kara considered, "...is your Final Five Cylon models."
"If they've come from the home of the 13th tribe," Sonja said, excitement growing, " then they must know the way back."
"They know how to get to Earth," Starbuck mused. "But that doesn't help us. Earth is dead. We've got the 13th tribe with us already."
Russki spoke up, quiet but forceful. "We can't be your 13th tribe. Doctor Franklin and Doctor Eilerson were pretty clear about that. We didn't come from you, you came from us. So, assuming the 13th tribe is real, and they really live on a planet named Earth…"
"Then they're still out there," Kara completed the thought.
"Wait," Doral interrupted. "Two planets named Earth?"
Susan smirked. "The word just means dirt or soil. What else would you call your planet? It's very Russian."
Athena stepped forward. "And 'the missing three' is the model you boxed, for looking at the faces of the Five."
"D'Anna," Doral confirmed. "She can recognise 'em. She said as much when we unboxed her. And she's on this ship."
Starbuck smiled, confident for the first time in a long time. "Let's go. Demetrius is waiting for us."
.
The jump very nearly failed. Using the Hybrid as a translator to feed nav data to the other Basestars very nearly led to reactor implosions. Athena was forced to virtually recreate the slaving process on all of the Baseships. But finally, the process was complete. Right down to the wire.
Starbuck allowed Doral to give the order. "Jump!"
With a flash, the five Baseships appeared in a circle around the Demetrius. "Did we remember to load up the Colonial IFF?" Russki wondered belatedly.
Athena hopped onto comms. "Demetrius, Athena. Demetrius, Athena."
It took a moment to receive Helo's response. "Gods, it's good to hear your voice." He paused. "But you're late."
She rolled her eyes and laughed. "Copy that, Helo. And I think you can spare the ten seconds we went over. The Cylon fleet is ours. Mission accomplished."
"Then let's go home."