Fic: Mathematics: Five Faces (6/10) (First Half)
Series Title: Mathematics
Segment Title: Five Faces (6/10)
( Part 1) ( Part 2) ( Part 3) ( Part 4) ( Part 5)
Author: kappamaki33
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Gaeta/Eight, Caprica/Baltar, and past Gaeta/Baltar
Series Summary: Scenes from New Caprica. It was such a simple equation: Felix+Eight=valuable, effective death lists. But the math never remains that uncomplicated, once life gets factored in.
Part 6 Summary: Felix is tired of pretending to play both sides, but a series of meetings convinces him to take a difficult course of action.
Spoilers: Through “Face of the Enemy” Webisodes
Disclaimer: I do not own BSG or any of the characters described herein. These works are for fan appreciation and entertainment only, and I do not benefit financially from them.
Series Notes: So, this is my first-ever fic. It’s going to be a ten-part series when I’m done. I wanted to impose some sort of structure on the story to make it a bit more challenging-and also to help me develop an overall framework-so each vignette has some connection to its number, in descending order from 10 to 1. The connection to the number is more obvious in some parts than in others, but it served its purpose as a structural framework.
Part 6 Notes: Baltar may be so self-absorbed and self-medicated for it to take him four months to realize there are only seven Cylons when he knows there are twelve, but I highly doubt it took that long for other people to realize and wonder about this. Also, on a completely shallow personal note, yay, Sam Anders!
This segment is brought to you by the number 5, a number with no little importance to the Cylons, a fact that does not escape the perceptiveness of Felix Gaeta.
Five Faces
Felix was so full of desperate questions and righteous anger when he burst into President Baltar’s office that morning that he very pointedly did not knock before entering. The papers in his hidden jacket pocket had felt so much heavier against Felix’s chest after he had read the report that Felix had decided nothing could be worse than this limbo of unknowing and indecision. This would settle it, once and for all. Felix swore that, one way or another, he’d leave the room knowing what he was going to do.
“Mr. President, we need to talk, now,” Felix demanded as he strode into the room, waving a file folder. Baltar didn’t seem to register his presence. He was sprawled in his chair behind his desk, head flopped back over the headrest, eyes closed.
Felix placed his hands on the President’s desk, leaned forward for added emphasis, and said, “Mr. President-”
…and saw a white-blond head just peeking out from under the desk, squarely between Gaius’s legs.
“Oh gods, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Felix said, putting a hand over his eyes even though he felt his legs carrying him swiftly in the opposite direction. He didn’t feel it was safe to uncover his eyes until he’d shut the door; then he leaned against it, letting his head fall back. “That’s why you knock first, Felix,” he grumbled to himself, hitting the back of his head against the door again out of frustration.
It wasn’t so much catching Gaius’s Six in the act. Seeing the two of them together in bed had hardly been unusual back when Felix had still bothered to brief the President on the state of the public in the mornings. Of course, before the Cylons arrived, Felix had never been so tacky as to loll naked in bed beside Gaius while someone else summarized a report for Gaius the way Six did. But, Felix admitted, that was mostly because Felix was always the one summarizing reports, not because he was above talking politics while naked in bed. In fact, near the end, that was the only way he’d even had a chance of keeping Gaius’s attention.
No, it was that he’d caught the Six in that particular spot. Felix still had nightmares about being on his knees just like that when the Cylons arrived on Colonial One, with Baltar’s Six and Boomer and the first Doral leaning over the desk and sneering at him. But it hadn’t happened like that, he knew. He’d been the one who had come with the news and walked in on Gaius in the languid aftermath of a “staff meeting” with his “top interns.” He’d been the one who had stood by Gaius’s side with his fists balled and his jaw clamped shut as Gaius surrendered the human race’s future. If Felix had had more faith in psychology, he might have interpreted something from that dream, he thought, but instead he ignored it as best he could. It was just so vivid, and so embarrassing, that was all-that was enough-nothing more. Hell, he’d had the same sort of dream, only with the Admiral as the one walking in on them, or Roslin, or Zarek-they were all just about embarrassment, Felix assured himself.
Although the one where Zarek came in without knocking…Felix was fairly certain that, at least one time, that one hadn’t been a dream.
“It’s all right, Gaeta. You can come in now,” called the Six.
When Felix reentered the office, the Six was standing in the middle of the room, as smooth and serene as if nothing had happened. Gaius still looked a bit rumpled and nervous as he leaned against the front of his desk, though.
“Sorry,” the Six said to Felix, wincing a bit. Felix noted vaguely that, really, he should be the one apologizing. He had blamed the Six for a lot of things, but not for usurping Gaius’s need for him. He couldn’t quite thank her for replacing him, either, though.
Felix nodded to her and approached the President again. The Six took a seat on the couch on the side of the room and made a show of perusing some official documents.
“Mr. President-”
“You’re right, Felix, we do need to talk,” said Gaius, one hand on his hip and the other sliding through his tangled hair. Felix hadn’t seen Gaius look this troubled in a long time-frak, Felix thought, he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Gaius this concerned about something other than himself. Gaius looked up at Felix. “I understand that you have felt…disappointed. Disappointed by the progress here on New Caprica, by the government…by me.”
Felix’s heart leapt into his throat. From anyone else, that would have been a laughably lame and oblique apology, but coming from Gaius, it was a better admission of responsibility that Felix had ever dreamed of receiving. Felix stood silent and expectant, hoping against hope that Gaius’s next words would prove him and the evidence in his hand wrong. Despite himself, Felix found himself envisioning this new Gaius as a partner in his Resistance espionage, or better yet, taking an open, defiant stand, Felix by his side, the way it always should have been.
“I also understand, better than most, that humans have certain needs…” Felix’s stomach churned at this unexpected turn in the conversation. He knew the Six could tell where it was heading now, too; he heard her clear her throat loudly. Not that Felix objected to an apology from Gaius on this count, either, but it was more than a little awkward to be getting it with the Six as an audience. Gaius moved forward and put a hand on Felix’s shoulder. “I know you understand that as well. You certainly understand that the antiquated idea that a human only needs one person to satisfy all those needs simply doesn’t always hold true. But that fact barely has anything to do with human emotion, attachment, love, dare I say.” Gaius’s gaze flitted between Felix and looking over Felix’s shoulder at the Six, whom Felix heard rise from the sofa.
Felix gulped hard. He couldn’t tell whether Gaius was trying to explain his “hiring interns” when they were together or whether he was propositioning Felix for a three-way with the Six. No, no more sex with Cylons, Felix repeated to himself. Too complicated. Too dangerous. No more Cylons.
Gaius squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. “But that’s tangential. What I mean, Felix, is that I know-”
“Gaius, you promised!” the Six said behind them.
Gaius ignored her. “Felix, I know about the Sharon.” Felix felt blood and shame rush to his face. Gaius’s hand on his shoulder suddenly felt so heavy, almost crushing. “I know about the two of you, what you’re-”
“Gaius! Stop!” the Six shouted, now right behind Felix.
The Six’s anger scared Gaius, Felix could see. “I know about the two of you,” he repeated. Gaius was waiting for Felix to say something, but Felix couldn’t do anything but shake his head and silently plead he would wake up in a few moments and find it was all a nightmare, even if it meant he would wake up beside Eight.
“Whatever hold she has over you, whatever she’s made you do, it’s not your fault, Felix,” Gaius said, moving his hand to Felix’s elbow. “I’m not completely powerless, you know. Whatever she has on you that’s making you…I can make it go away. I can still do that much.”
“No!” Felix yelled, yanking his arm out of Gaius’s grasp. “She doesn’t have anything on me.”
Gaius looked genuinely confused. “Then why do you keep letting her come to your home?”
“Because I…I love her.”
The words tasted like ashes in Felix’s mouth. To have to tell that lie was bad enough, but to have to tell it to the person who’d chipped away at his heart for nearly a year and then shattered what little was left, to pretend that he was already whole enough again to love somebody else-Felix wanted nothing more than to bolt from the room and hide in his office so he could vomit in the wastebasket.
What made it even worse was Gaius’s expression. Felix had hoped the man would at least have the decency to look a little hurt that Felix had moved on, if for no other reason than a bruised ego. Instead, Felix saw Gaius shake his head in pity. “Oh, Felix. But who am I to judge? After all, you’re not the only one who has, quite literally, embraced his own destruction.”
Felix heard the Six’s heels click across the floor as she walked back to the couch. He ventured a quick glance over his shoulder at her. She looked pale and stricken, even though she held her chin up and her back as straight as if she had an iron rod for a spine.
Gaius rubbed his forehead nervously. Felix couldn’t tell if Gaius was more upset over putting his foot in his mouth with Felix or with the Six-most likely the latter, Felix thought-but whatever was the cause, it unsettled Gaius enough that he didn’t pursue the conversation any further. In fact, Gaius seemed almost surprised when Felix didn’t leave the room immediately.
“I came here to discuss this,” Felix said, his voice cold and hard but his hand shaking as he held out the file folder. “It’s an NCP report. Last night they ambushed civilians who were carrying weapons, just outside Magda Forrester’s tent.”
Gaius’s whole demeanor changed in an instant. His muscles tensed, and any traces of pity there might have been in his expression vanished, replaced with a defensive scowl. “So they were doing their jobs,” Gaius said, opening the folder.
“Six civilians dead, Mr. President. And do you know how many of them were actually armed Resistance? One. The other five were sleeping in neighboring tents, caught in the crossfire because the frakking felons from the Astral Queen who comprised this squad either don’t know how to set up an ambush or more likely don’t give a flying frak about collateral damage!”
Gaius sighed. “I told you, Felix, that my signature wouldn’t make a difference.”
Felix closed his eyes, summoning the strength to say what he knew he had to. “Actually, we’ll never know.” Gaius looked up, eyes wide. Felix pressed on. “If you take a closer look, you’ll see the executive orders for admitting convicted felons to the NCP Academy and for shortened training requirements for those with regular or irregular combat training or experience, signed by President Gaius Baltar the day after our meeting.”
Baltar stared at the front page of the file, not bothering to flip to the signature. “It’s more complicated than it looks,” Gaius offered weakly, still not looking up at Felix.
“Yeah, I’m sure it was.”
The Six stepped between Felix and Gaius. “Gaius, it’s time for your medication. You’ll excuse us, Gaeta?” the Six said in a way that made it clear this was not a request.
Felix walked out, picked up his briefcase from his office, and kept walking mindlessly until he found himself outside Colonial One. He shrugged. No one would care if he took the afternoon off, he decided. He slipped the wad of papers from the inner pocket to the briefcase and approached the checkpoint. After the bombing, outgoing security had become much more lax, not so much because the Cylons needed more guards and guns on the incoming line but merely to keep the outgoing file moving quickly, giving potential attackers less time to pull something off. Felix wondered if Centurions could be nervous or if he was just projecting emotions onto the hulking thing that was perfunctorily patting him down at the checkpoint. He watched an NCP standing inside a bullet-proof glass booth, thumbing through the files in his briefcase, and Felix knew he wasn’t just imagining the fear in his demeanor.
Felix walked into the city but hesitated when he came to the street corner where, if he turned right, he’d be headed toward the garbage dump, and if he turned left, he’d be walking home. He took the papers out of his briefcase, weighing them in his hand before slipping them back inside his jacket pocket. He peered down the street in both directions, admitting to himself that he was looking for a sign from the gods, even though he didn’t believe in signs or gods.
Felix spotted Chief Tyrol and Sam Anders talking to each other animatedly across the street, near the construction site for a small rations cellar. Felix felt a little pang of guilt for having left work so early, and he was going to have to set up a meeting with Tyrol about the rollbacks on the public works project calendar soon anyway. It was close enough to a sign for Felix. Instead of turning, he crossed the street.
Tyrol’s voice died mid-sentence when he saw Felix approaching, but Felix understood why.
“Gaeta,” Sam Anders said, nodding in acknowledgment.
“Hey Sam, Chief,” Felix answered, then mentally kicked himself for calling Tyrol “Chief.” Felix could tell Tyrol was already in a bad mood, which might lead him to take Felix’s slip-up as Felix trying to lord his old rank over Tyrol’s head.
Felix quickly realized he didn’t need to worry about something that trivial, though, when Tyrol wheeled around, his jaw set and his eyes wide with anger. “Have you heard what the Cylons are doing about the power plant?”
Felix grimaced. “Yeah, actually, that’s what I came over here to see you about. It looks as though-”
“They’re frakking scrapping it!” Tyrol spat.
“Well, yes, after the Resistance blew it up the third time, the Cylons finally gave up.” Felix tried to keep his tone neutral. “They’ve scaled the plans back so now they’re just going to try to build a smaller plant in the Cylon quarter.”
“With Cylon-only work crews, Gaeta,” Tyrol fumed. “All of us out here have to work to earn our rations. If my men don’t have enough work, they don’t eat. Their kids don’t eat.”
“I understand. That’s why I’ve made sure that all the small generators the Cylons are going to rig for Tent City are installed by human crews.”
Tyrol’s eyes narrowed and his scowl deepened. “Great. That’ll fix everything. How many generators will we get to install? Certainly not one for every home, or even every block. What’s their plan, Gaeta? Critical sites only? One for the hospital, maybe one for the city hall and for each school if we’re lucky? And how many days of work do you think that’ll give my people? Two, maybe three? Sorry if I don’t bow down in gratitude.”
“I’m doing the best I can.”
Tyrol laughed disdainfully. “Really?”
Sam pulled at Tyrol’s shoulder. “Galen-”
Tyrol shrugged Sam off, but he did take a step back. “You’re doing your best. So is that why you’ve stayed safe and snug on Colonial One all this time, so you can hand out your table scraps to the rest of us?” Felix made a noise as if to speak, but Tyrol continued right over his half-formed protest. “When are you gonna move in behind the barbed wire, anyway, Gaeta? When they get that power plant done and you can have working lights and nice, hot showers? That your plan?”
“No, don’t you dare act like you think I’m in this for the power or the perks. There’s none of either of those to be had on Colonial One, any more than there is out here.” Tyrol shook his head and smirked, disbelieving. Felix refused to let him remain so smugly superior. “You know it’s never been about that for me, because we both believed in this place at one time. Or have you forgotten that?” Felix hadn’t forgotten how closely he and Tyrol had worked together on the plans for the city. He even missed the harder days that came later, when the government started to crumble from the inside and Felix and Tyrol had struggled to maintain relations between the government and the union.
“No, you’re right,” Tyrol said, but not with a look on his face that would have indicated he was actually backing down. “But that’s what it was about for Baltar, wasn’t it?” Dear gods, don’t go there. “How is the President these days, anyway? Funny that you don’t seem to have nearly as much pull with him as you used to. What happened, Felix, did he promote one of his little ‘interns’ to your old position? Has he gotten tired of how you’d beg on your knees-for the civilians’ welfare, of course?”
“Back off, both of you!” Sam was between Felix and Tyrol, holding both of them apart before Felix had even realized he’d lunged at the other man. Tyrol glared at Felix over Sam’s outstretched arm, but not with a look that suggested he’d felt he’d won. He just looked angry and bone-tired, as tired as Felix felt. Felix pushed aside Sam’s arm and walked purposefully away, even though he was headed away from home, the dump, and Colonial One.
“Hey, Gaeta, hold up a sec,” said Sam, jogging after him. Felix looked back. Tyrol was already gone. Felix stopped but still stood tense and wary. Sam continued, “I just wanted to apologize for Tyrol. It’s not you. Last night…he had a really bad night. It was a bad night for a lot of us.” Everyone knew Tyrol and Sam Anders were Resistance, but Felix understood that Sam had to keep up the pretense of secrecy anyway, just to be on the safe side. “Even so, that stuff about you and Baltar was way out of line.”
Felix looked down and kicked at the dirt. “Even if it might be true?”
Sam sighed. “Look, before the Cylons came, you always did right by me and my people that got picked up off Caprica. I don’t blame the people who were afraid we might be Cylons, since we brought one back by accident, after all. But you made sure we got treated fairly down here even though we hadn’t been a part of the Fleet and nobody really trusted us. As for after the Cylons came…well, there’s a lot of us doing things we never thought we’d do.” Sam snapped to attention and Gaeta instinctively covered his head with his hands at the sound of shattering glass. When nothing more happened, Sam shrugged and put his hands in his pockets. “Anyway, what I’m trying to say is, you can’t blame somebody too much for who they love.”
Hearing Sam say that comforted Felix a little, but it sounded far too much like a Gaius cop-out for Felix to feel really at ease. Felix leaned against a scaffold behind them and let his gaze wander along the dirt street. “You really believe that?”
“Hell, yes. Why would anybody choose to hurt that much? Maybe you choose what you do about it, but you don’t choose what you feel. Frak, you seriously think I would’ve picked somebody as complicated and downright frakked-up as Kara was-is? Is. As Kara is.” Felix looked up at Sam but quickly turned away again. Even though they were standing out in the open, Felix felt like he was violating Sam’s privacy by seeing him with such a raw expression on his face. It was a long time before Sam spoke again, and even then his voice cracked. “Have you heard about Kara at all?”
“I’m sorry, Sam, but I haven’t heard a thing. She hasn’t been on any of the prisoner manifests that’ve come across my desk, or any human’s desk, for that matter.”
Sam fixed his gaze on something down the street. “Am I a fool to still be hoping, like Galen says?”
Felix thought Tyrol was probably right, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it. “Sometimes people who go off the grid like that still make it out, eventually. Like David Kaiber. The Cylons didn’t have his name in any of the records, or at least not any I get to see, and he got out.”
Sam leaned back in surprise. “Dave? He escaped?”
“Or was released, yeah,” Felix added quickly, not sure what story Eight might have told the escapee to relate.
Sam still looked confused, his head cocked to one side. “You sure about that? Have you seen him?”
“Yeah, of course. How else would I know?” Felix racked his brain to remember where he’d seen Kaiber. At Cottle’s hospital? No, that had been months ago. At ration distribution? No, that had been after the first time Eight had broken Kaiber out of detention; he’d been thrown back in since then. There were just too many names and faces to keep track of anymore, especially since his and Eight’s few victories were rarely permanent, with escapees constantly being re-captured or committing fresh acts of defiance and being locked away on new charges.
“Listen, I’d better go,” Sam said, “but if you hear anything about Kara, you’ll tell me, right? Either way-” Sam’s voice caught on the last two words.
“I will,” Felix said, looking Sam in the eye. Sam nodded and ambled off toward the Tyrols’ tent.
On to the second half...
Segment Title: Five Faces (6/10)
( Part 1) ( Part 2) ( Part 3) ( Part 4) ( Part 5)
Author: kappamaki33
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Gaeta/Eight, Caprica/Baltar, and past Gaeta/Baltar
Series Summary: Scenes from New Caprica. It was such a simple equation: Felix+Eight=valuable, effective death lists. But the math never remains that uncomplicated, once life gets factored in.
Part 6 Summary: Felix is tired of pretending to play both sides, but a series of meetings convinces him to take a difficult course of action.
Spoilers: Through “Face of the Enemy” Webisodes
Disclaimer: I do not own BSG or any of the characters described herein. These works are for fan appreciation and entertainment only, and I do not benefit financially from them.
Series Notes: So, this is my first-ever fic. It’s going to be a ten-part series when I’m done. I wanted to impose some sort of structure on the story to make it a bit more challenging-and also to help me develop an overall framework-so each vignette has some connection to its number, in descending order from 10 to 1. The connection to the number is more obvious in some parts than in others, but it served its purpose as a structural framework.
Part 6 Notes: Baltar may be so self-absorbed and self-medicated for it to take him four months to realize there are only seven Cylons when he knows there are twelve, but I highly doubt it took that long for other people to realize and wonder about this. Also, on a completely shallow personal note, yay, Sam Anders!
This segment is brought to you by the number 5, a number with no little importance to the Cylons, a fact that does not escape the perceptiveness of Felix Gaeta.
Five Faces
Felix was so full of desperate questions and righteous anger when he burst into President Baltar’s office that morning that he very pointedly did not knock before entering. The papers in his hidden jacket pocket had felt so much heavier against Felix’s chest after he had read the report that Felix had decided nothing could be worse than this limbo of unknowing and indecision. This would settle it, once and for all. Felix swore that, one way or another, he’d leave the room knowing what he was going to do.
“Mr. President, we need to talk, now,” Felix demanded as he strode into the room, waving a file folder. Baltar didn’t seem to register his presence. He was sprawled in his chair behind his desk, head flopped back over the headrest, eyes closed.
Felix placed his hands on the President’s desk, leaned forward for added emphasis, and said, “Mr. President-”
…and saw a white-blond head just peeking out from under the desk, squarely between Gaius’s legs.
“Oh gods, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Felix said, putting a hand over his eyes even though he felt his legs carrying him swiftly in the opposite direction. He didn’t feel it was safe to uncover his eyes until he’d shut the door; then he leaned against it, letting his head fall back. “That’s why you knock first, Felix,” he grumbled to himself, hitting the back of his head against the door again out of frustration.
It wasn’t so much catching Gaius’s Six in the act. Seeing the two of them together in bed had hardly been unusual back when Felix had still bothered to brief the President on the state of the public in the mornings. Of course, before the Cylons arrived, Felix had never been so tacky as to loll naked in bed beside Gaius while someone else summarized a report for Gaius the way Six did. But, Felix admitted, that was mostly because Felix was always the one summarizing reports, not because he was above talking politics while naked in bed. In fact, near the end, that was the only way he’d even had a chance of keeping Gaius’s attention.
No, it was that he’d caught the Six in that particular spot. Felix still had nightmares about being on his knees just like that when the Cylons arrived on Colonial One, with Baltar’s Six and Boomer and the first Doral leaning over the desk and sneering at him. But it hadn’t happened like that, he knew. He’d been the one who had come with the news and walked in on Gaius in the languid aftermath of a “staff meeting” with his “top interns.” He’d been the one who had stood by Gaius’s side with his fists balled and his jaw clamped shut as Gaius surrendered the human race’s future. If Felix had had more faith in psychology, he might have interpreted something from that dream, he thought, but instead he ignored it as best he could. It was just so vivid, and so embarrassing, that was all-that was enough-nothing more. Hell, he’d had the same sort of dream, only with the Admiral as the one walking in on them, or Roslin, or Zarek-they were all just about embarrassment, Felix assured himself.
Although the one where Zarek came in without knocking…Felix was fairly certain that, at least one time, that one hadn’t been a dream.
“It’s all right, Gaeta. You can come in now,” called the Six.
When Felix reentered the office, the Six was standing in the middle of the room, as smooth and serene as if nothing had happened. Gaius still looked a bit rumpled and nervous as he leaned against the front of his desk, though.
“Sorry,” the Six said to Felix, wincing a bit. Felix noted vaguely that, really, he should be the one apologizing. He had blamed the Six for a lot of things, but not for usurping Gaius’s need for him. He couldn’t quite thank her for replacing him, either, though.
Felix nodded to her and approached the President again. The Six took a seat on the couch on the side of the room and made a show of perusing some official documents.
“Mr. President-”
“You’re right, Felix, we do need to talk,” said Gaius, one hand on his hip and the other sliding through his tangled hair. Felix hadn’t seen Gaius look this troubled in a long time-frak, Felix thought, he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Gaius this concerned about something other than himself. Gaius looked up at Felix. “I understand that you have felt…disappointed. Disappointed by the progress here on New Caprica, by the government…by me.”
Felix’s heart leapt into his throat. From anyone else, that would have been a laughably lame and oblique apology, but coming from Gaius, it was a better admission of responsibility that Felix had ever dreamed of receiving. Felix stood silent and expectant, hoping against hope that Gaius’s next words would prove him and the evidence in his hand wrong. Despite himself, Felix found himself envisioning this new Gaius as a partner in his Resistance espionage, or better yet, taking an open, defiant stand, Felix by his side, the way it always should have been.
“I also understand, better than most, that humans have certain needs…” Felix’s stomach churned at this unexpected turn in the conversation. He knew the Six could tell where it was heading now, too; he heard her clear her throat loudly. Not that Felix objected to an apology from Gaius on this count, either, but it was more than a little awkward to be getting it with the Six as an audience. Gaius moved forward and put a hand on Felix’s shoulder. “I know you understand that as well. You certainly understand that the antiquated idea that a human only needs one person to satisfy all those needs simply doesn’t always hold true. But that fact barely has anything to do with human emotion, attachment, love, dare I say.” Gaius’s gaze flitted between Felix and looking over Felix’s shoulder at the Six, whom Felix heard rise from the sofa.
Felix gulped hard. He couldn’t tell whether Gaius was trying to explain his “hiring interns” when they were together or whether he was propositioning Felix for a three-way with the Six. No, no more sex with Cylons, Felix repeated to himself. Too complicated. Too dangerous. No more Cylons.
Gaius squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. “But that’s tangential. What I mean, Felix, is that I know-”
“Gaius, you promised!” the Six said behind them.
Gaius ignored her. “Felix, I know about the Sharon.” Felix felt blood and shame rush to his face. Gaius’s hand on his shoulder suddenly felt so heavy, almost crushing. “I know about the two of you, what you’re-”
“Gaius! Stop!” the Six shouted, now right behind Felix.
The Six’s anger scared Gaius, Felix could see. “I know about the two of you,” he repeated. Gaius was waiting for Felix to say something, but Felix couldn’t do anything but shake his head and silently plead he would wake up in a few moments and find it was all a nightmare, even if it meant he would wake up beside Eight.
“Whatever hold she has over you, whatever she’s made you do, it’s not your fault, Felix,” Gaius said, moving his hand to Felix’s elbow. “I’m not completely powerless, you know. Whatever she has on you that’s making you…I can make it go away. I can still do that much.”
“No!” Felix yelled, yanking his arm out of Gaius’s grasp. “She doesn’t have anything on me.”
Gaius looked genuinely confused. “Then why do you keep letting her come to your home?”
“Because I…I love her.”
The words tasted like ashes in Felix’s mouth. To have to tell that lie was bad enough, but to have to tell it to the person who’d chipped away at his heart for nearly a year and then shattered what little was left, to pretend that he was already whole enough again to love somebody else-Felix wanted nothing more than to bolt from the room and hide in his office so he could vomit in the wastebasket.
What made it even worse was Gaius’s expression. Felix had hoped the man would at least have the decency to look a little hurt that Felix had moved on, if for no other reason than a bruised ego. Instead, Felix saw Gaius shake his head in pity. “Oh, Felix. But who am I to judge? After all, you’re not the only one who has, quite literally, embraced his own destruction.”
Felix heard the Six’s heels click across the floor as she walked back to the couch. He ventured a quick glance over his shoulder at her. She looked pale and stricken, even though she held her chin up and her back as straight as if she had an iron rod for a spine.
Gaius rubbed his forehead nervously. Felix couldn’t tell if Gaius was more upset over putting his foot in his mouth with Felix or with the Six-most likely the latter, Felix thought-but whatever was the cause, it unsettled Gaius enough that he didn’t pursue the conversation any further. In fact, Gaius seemed almost surprised when Felix didn’t leave the room immediately.
“I came here to discuss this,” Felix said, his voice cold and hard but his hand shaking as he held out the file folder. “It’s an NCP report. Last night they ambushed civilians who were carrying weapons, just outside Magda Forrester’s tent.”
Gaius’s whole demeanor changed in an instant. His muscles tensed, and any traces of pity there might have been in his expression vanished, replaced with a defensive scowl. “So they were doing their jobs,” Gaius said, opening the folder.
“Six civilians dead, Mr. President. And do you know how many of them were actually armed Resistance? One. The other five were sleeping in neighboring tents, caught in the crossfire because the frakking felons from the Astral Queen who comprised this squad either don’t know how to set up an ambush or more likely don’t give a flying frak about collateral damage!”
Gaius sighed. “I told you, Felix, that my signature wouldn’t make a difference.”
Felix closed his eyes, summoning the strength to say what he knew he had to. “Actually, we’ll never know.” Gaius looked up, eyes wide. Felix pressed on. “If you take a closer look, you’ll see the executive orders for admitting convicted felons to the NCP Academy and for shortened training requirements for those with regular or irregular combat training or experience, signed by President Gaius Baltar the day after our meeting.”
Baltar stared at the front page of the file, not bothering to flip to the signature. “It’s more complicated than it looks,” Gaius offered weakly, still not looking up at Felix.
“Yeah, I’m sure it was.”
The Six stepped between Felix and Gaius. “Gaius, it’s time for your medication. You’ll excuse us, Gaeta?” the Six said in a way that made it clear this was not a request.
Felix walked out, picked up his briefcase from his office, and kept walking mindlessly until he found himself outside Colonial One. He shrugged. No one would care if he took the afternoon off, he decided. He slipped the wad of papers from the inner pocket to the briefcase and approached the checkpoint. After the bombing, outgoing security had become much more lax, not so much because the Cylons needed more guards and guns on the incoming line but merely to keep the outgoing file moving quickly, giving potential attackers less time to pull something off. Felix wondered if Centurions could be nervous or if he was just projecting emotions onto the hulking thing that was perfunctorily patting him down at the checkpoint. He watched an NCP standing inside a bullet-proof glass booth, thumbing through the files in his briefcase, and Felix knew he wasn’t just imagining the fear in his demeanor.
Felix walked into the city but hesitated when he came to the street corner where, if he turned right, he’d be headed toward the garbage dump, and if he turned left, he’d be walking home. He took the papers out of his briefcase, weighing them in his hand before slipping them back inside his jacket pocket. He peered down the street in both directions, admitting to himself that he was looking for a sign from the gods, even though he didn’t believe in signs or gods.
Felix spotted Chief Tyrol and Sam Anders talking to each other animatedly across the street, near the construction site for a small rations cellar. Felix felt a little pang of guilt for having left work so early, and he was going to have to set up a meeting with Tyrol about the rollbacks on the public works project calendar soon anyway. It was close enough to a sign for Felix. Instead of turning, he crossed the street.
Tyrol’s voice died mid-sentence when he saw Felix approaching, but Felix understood why.
“Gaeta,” Sam Anders said, nodding in acknowledgment.
“Hey Sam, Chief,” Felix answered, then mentally kicked himself for calling Tyrol “Chief.” Felix could tell Tyrol was already in a bad mood, which might lead him to take Felix’s slip-up as Felix trying to lord his old rank over Tyrol’s head.
Felix quickly realized he didn’t need to worry about something that trivial, though, when Tyrol wheeled around, his jaw set and his eyes wide with anger. “Have you heard what the Cylons are doing about the power plant?”
Felix grimaced. “Yeah, actually, that’s what I came over here to see you about. It looks as though-”
“They’re frakking scrapping it!” Tyrol spat.
“Well, yes, after the Resistance blew it up the third time, the Cylons finally gave up.” Felix tried to keep his tone neutral. “They’ve scaled the plans back so now they’re just going to try to build a smaller plant in the Cylon quarter.”
“With Cylon-only work crews, Gaeta,” Tyrol fumed. “All of us out here have to work to earn our rations. If my men don’t have enough work, they don’t eat. Their kids don’t eat.”
“I understand. That’s why I’ve made sure that all the small generators the Cylons are going to rig for Tent City are installed by human crews.”
Tyrol’s eyes narrowed and his scowl deepened. “Great. That’ll fix everything. How many generators will we get to install? Certainly not one for every home, or even every block. What’s their plan, Gaeta? Critical sites only? One for the hospital, maybe one for the city hall and for each school if we’re lucky? And how many days of work do you think that’ll give my people? Two, maybe three? Sorry if I don’t bow down in gratitude.”
“I’m doing the best I can.”
Tyrol laughed disdainfully. “Really?”
Sam pulled at Tyrol’s shoulder. “Galen-”
Tyrol shrugged Sam off, but he did take a step back. “You’re doing your best. So is that why you’ve stayed safe and snug on Colonial One all this time, so you can hand out your table scraps to the rest of us?” Felix made a noise as if to speak, but Tyrol continued right over his half-formed protest. “When are you gonna move in behind the barbed wire, anyway, Gaeta? When they get that power plant done and you can have working lights and nice, hot showers? That your plan?”
“No, don’t you dare act like you think I’m in this for the power or the perks. There’s none of either of those to be had on Colonial One, any more than there is out here.” Tyrol shook his head and smirked, disbelieving. Felix refused to let him remain so smugly superior. “You know it’s never been about that for me, because we both believed in this place at one time. Or have you forgotten that?” Felix hadn’t forgotten how closely he and Tyrol had worked together on the plans for the city. He even missed the harder days that came later, when the government started to crumble from the inside and Felix and Tyrol had struggled to maintain relations between the government and the union.
“No, you’re right,” Tyrol said, but not with a look on his face that would have indicated he was actually backing down. “But that’s what it was about for Baltar, wasn’t it?” Dear gods, don’t go there. “How is the President these days, anyway? Funny that you don’t seem to have nearly as much pull with him as you used to. What happened, Felix, did he promote one of his little ‘interns’ to your old position? Has he gotten tired of how you’d beg on your knees-for the civilians’ welfare, of course?”
“Back off, both of you!” Sam was between Felix and Tyrol, holding both of them apart before Felix had even realized he’d lunged at the other man. Tyrol glared at Felix over Sam’s outstretched arm, but not with a look that suggested he’d felt he’d won. He just looked angry and bone-tired, as tired as Felix felt. Felix pushed aside Sam’s arm and walked purposefully away, even though he was headed away from home, the dump, and Colonial One.
“Hey, Gaeta, hold up a sec,” said Sam, jogging after him. Felix looked back. Tyrol was already gone. Felix stopped but still stood tense and wary. Sam continued, “I just wanted to apologize for Tyrol. It’s not you. Last night…he had a really bad night. It was a bad night for a lot of us.” Everyone knew Tyrol and Sam Anders were Resistance, but Felix understood that Sam had to keep up the pretense of secrecy anyway, just to be on the safe side. “Even so, that stuff about you and Baltar was way out of line.”
Felix looked down and kicked at the dirt. “Even if it might be true?”
Sam sighed. “Look, before the Cylons came, you always did right by me and my people that got picked up off Caprica. I don’t blame the people who were afraid we might be Cylons, since we brought one back by accident, after all. But you made sure we got treated fairly down here even though we hadn’t been a part of the Fleet and nobody really trusted us. As for after the Cylons came…well, there’s a lot of us doing things we never thought we’d do.” Sam snapped to attention and Gaeta instinctively covered his head with his hands at the sound of shattering glass. When nothing more happened, Sam shrugged and put his hands in his pockets. “Anyway, what I’m trying to say is, you can’t blame somebody too much for who they love.”
Hearing Sam say that comforted Felix a little, but it sounded far too much like a Gaius cop-out for Felix to feel really at ease. Felix leaned against a scaffold behind them and let his gaze wander along the dirt street. “You really believe that?”
“Hell, yes. Why would anybody choose to hurt that much? Maybe you choose what you do about it, but you don’t choose what you feel. Frak, you seriously think I would’ve picked somebody as complicated and downright frakked-up as Kara was-is? Is. As Kara is.” Felix looked up at Sam but quickly turned away again. Even though they were standing out in the open, Felix felt like he was violating Sam’s privacy by seeing him with such a raw expression on his face. It was a long time before Sam spoke again, and even then his voice cracked. “Have you heard about Kara at all?”
“I’m sorry, Sam, but I haven’t heard a thing. She hasn’t been on any of the prisoner manifests that’ve come across my desk, or any human’s desk, for that matter.”
Sam fixed his gaze on something down the street. “Am I a fool to still be hoping, like Galen says?”
Felix thought Tyrol was probably right, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it. “Sometimes people who go off the grid like that still make it out, eventually. Like David Kaiber. The Cylons didn’t have his name in any of the records, or at least not any I get to see, and he got out.”
Sam leaned back in surprise. “Dave? He escaped?”
“Or was released, yeah,” Felix added quickly, not sure what story Eight might have told the escapee to relate.
Sam still looked confused, his head cocked to one side. “You sure about that? Have you seen him?”
“Yeah, of course. How else would I know?” Felix racked his brain to remember where he’d seen Kaiber. At Cottle’s hospital? No, that had been months ago. At ration distribution? No, that had been after the first time Eight had broken Kaiber out of detention; he’d been thrown back in since then. There were just too many names and faces to keep track of anymore, especially since his and Eight’s few victories were rarely permanent, with escapees constantly being re-captured or committing fresh acts of defiance and being locked away on new charges.
“Listen, I’d better go,” Sam said, “but if you hear anything about Kara, you’ll tell me, right? Either way-” Sam’s voice caught on the last two words.
“I will,” Felix said, looking Sam in the eye. Sam nodded and ambled off toward the Tyrols’ tent.
On to the second half...