Through a Glass, Lightly: Past is Prologue - Chapter One
Title: Through a Glass, Lightly: Past is Prologue - Chapter One
Summary: All of this has happened before and will happen again and again until the end.
Genre: Alternate universe, but very familiar.
Rating: T
~ ~ ~ chapter one ~ ~ ~
Bill applied pressure to the gaping wound, blood spurting from between his fingers with every pulse of the heart. Dark, thick blood stained his clothing as he felt the air drawing out of his lungs. He could barely hear the shouting and chaos around him over the deafening roar in his ears.
The world went dark.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Three Hours Earlier
"Get up," Cavil said shortly.
Bill only arched a brow at the Cylon in the doorway, two Centurions flanking him. A scowl darkened his face as he stared Bill down from across the room.
"Back for more?" Bill shot back. "I didn't scream loud enough last time?"
Cavil smiled, though it never reached his eyes. "I like screamers, but you're really not my type. I prefer blondes." He snapped his fingers and pointed toward the doorway. "Let's go. Or my friends here will have to drag you, and they're not gentle."
Bill sighed and smoothed his hands over his thighs, clenching his knees once before standing on still-shaky legs. From his estimation, it had been three days since the last time he'd been tortured for information and Cavil's own amusement, judging by the occasional meal he had been given. He hadn't seen the Four or the Six who had helped him since that day.
Outside the room, Cavil led him not to the left, where he'd been taken previously, but to the right and down a twisting warren of corridors. The Cylon remained ahead of him with the Centurions bringing up the rear, their mechanical servos whirring and feet clanking against steel deckplates in a precise rhythm. Every corridor looked like the last. Every Cylon they passed looked like another they'd already seen, some even wearing the same clothing. Each gave him a passing glance as they walked. A pair of Threes regarded him with undisguised contempt, their lips twitching upward in a sneer in perfect unison. Sixes smiled mysteriously, Eights flickered their eyes nervously. He tried to keep track of the turns they made, keeping an eye out for any distinguishing features to help guide his way should the opportunity for escape arise.
"Don't bother," Cavil said as he looked back and saw Bill surveying the walls. "I've taken you in circles a few times. It amuses me."
Bill sighed and continued to follow the Cylon until they reached a room nearly identical to the room he'd been held in before. The bed in the center of the room held a set of clothing, neatly folded in a bundle, a bar of soap and a towel.
"The bathing facilities are through that door," Cavil said with a nod of his head toward the other side of the room. "Make use of them."
"All this for a bath?" Bill scoffed. He'd been given a washcloth and a bowl of water a few times in the past, his only means of cleaning himself.
"All this to make yourself somewhat presentable," Cavil replied, rolling his eyes. "For a species so obsessed with hygiene, you should be thanking me."
Bill only glared at him.
Cavil sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Let me spell this out so your inferior brain can process it. We wouldn't be giving you a bath if we were about to kill you, would we?" He wrinkled his nose in disgust. "You stink. Worse than most humans. And I would think you would want a nice shower and a change of clothes before meeting your friend the Admiral again?"
"And what do you expect to get in return?" Bill asked, trying to contain his apprehension. "I know you're not doing this out of the goodness of your heart."
Cavil gave him a mocking roll of the eyes and slapped his chest like he'd been shot. "You wound me, William. I want you off my ship and I want something in return. I could probably take it through other means, but this may be easier. Call it...a gesture of good faith." He turned to leave the room. "Wash up. You should smell nice for your Admiral. Assuming she doesn't jump the gun and attack before she can hear me out."
"Laura Roslin will blow you out of the sky, you know that, don't you?" Bill called after him.
Cavil stopped and looked back over his shoulder. "Perhaps someday. But not now. One of us doesn't have the luxury of living again."
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Some time later, after a long-overdue and much-appreciated shower, Bill dressed and sat down to wait for whatever Cavil had planned. The new clothing was far better than the dingy shirt and pants he'd been wearing for gods knew how long. He plucked at the fabric wondering where the hell it had all come from. Surely, the Cylons didn't have vast stores of garments on board on the off chance that someone his size would need them. More likely, was it some human on New Caprica who gave up their clothing and perhaps their life? The more he thought about it, the more his stomach turned over and clenched.
His eyes were closed in thought when he heard the scrape of shoes on the decking. He glanced up to see the Six model who had helped him before, or at least one who looked just like her. He kept his expression neutral as he greeted her. "Haven't seen you in a while," he rumbled.
The Six smiled nervously as her eyes darted to the Centurions at the entrance. "Cavil is ready for you," she said simply.
Bill nodded and stood up, retrieving the black jacket on the bed and slinging it around his shoulders, settling it into place. He approached the Six carefully and whispered, "What's his game? Cavil." He watched the Centurions, which gave no indication that they were interested in what they were saying. "What's he up to?"
The Six swallowed and looked at a spot in space above his shoulder. "You're useful to him," she admitted, "but only for this one thing. If it goes wrong, your situation could get even worse. You probably would't even live to see the consequences."
He was taken aback by the statement, said very matter-of-factly with a thinly veiled threat draped around it. She licked her lips and moved a little closer, her eyes darting to the Centurions. "Just do as he says and you'll go home. Isn't that what you want?"
"At what cost?"
The Six sighed and met his eyes without wavering. "You're giving us the future by leaving us," she said. "Come. They're waiting."
She led him to the same room as the ship's pilot, called somewhat reverently by the Six as the Hybrid. She, if the Cylon could be called that, or even be called a Cylon at all, lay in a large tub filled with a viscous white liquid, lit brightly by lights inside the tub. She stared blankly into the air before her, chanting seemingly random strings of words. Occasionally, he could pick up something relevant to the ship's operations. Mostly it was just nonsense.
- life support systems functioning at established parameters seeing the fields and running -
None of the Cylons in the room seemed to listen to anything she said, with the exception of the single Leoben model present. He watched her intently from his position at a raised console filled with what looked like water. A Three and an Eight had their hands in the water, their eyes moving rapidly behind closed eyelids.
"We're about to make our little rendezvous," Cavil said without looking up at him.
"You know where the fleet is?" Bill asked incredulously.
Cavil cocked his head to one side and shrugged. "We always know where the fleet is. Remember that."
- the streams connecting paths and fluttering like wings on the mist -
There was a slight scuffle behind him and Bill turned to see a pair of Centurions, along with a platinum blonde Six and a Three escorting Gaius Baltar into the room. His eyes went wide when he saw Bill and he immediately shrank into his own body, looking at him apprehensively.
"Is this a joke?" Bill snarled, moving toward Baltar, clenching his fists angrily.
The Centurions lifted their arms as guns emerged from where their hands had been. Bill took the hint and backed off.
Baltar seemed to take this as a sign that he was being protected, his shoulders straightening and his expression turning rather smug. "It's a pleasure to see you as well, Mister Adama," he said, his tone dripping with superiority as he smoothed his oily-looking hair. "You look...unwell."
"They kept hinting that you were alive," Bill replied. "I was hoping they were lying."
- in circles they keep swimming the ones who were there before in the streams -
Baltar blanched and swallowed thickly. "Yes, well, as you can see, I'm quite alive. And well," he said. His tone dropped slightly. "Though my treatment has left much to be desired." He turned and looked up at the blonde Six beside him for reassurance. She smiled and ran her hand over his shoulder affectionately.
"Can we get this over with?" the D'anna Biers model that accompanied Baltar into the room snipped. "The sooner we get rid of both of them, the better?"
"Both?" Bill and Baltar said in unison. Bill caught Baltar's eyes, his own contempt a stark contrast to Baltar's thinly masked fear.
- diverting power to primary repair the imbalance is balanced and has come again and again -
Cavil folded his arms across his chest and grimaced. "I figured we should offer the humans something extra. You," he said with a nod to Bill, "are a gift for the Admiral. And you," nodding at Baltar, "are a gift for the other forty-thousand people in the fleet. I'm pretty sure they'd love to see you again."
Baltar wavered on his feet and nearly collapsed to the floor. The Six kept him upright as the Centurions moved closer. Good. Baltar knew he was a man on borrowed time.
"Alright," Cavil called to the dozen or so Cylons in the room. "Make the jump, then make the call. Preferably before the Admiral and her progeny decide to try to blow us out of the sky. I hate resurrecting." He and two other Cylons placed their hands in the liquid console and closed their eyes, each taking on an expression of intense concentration.
A few seconds later, Bill felt the familiar pull and expansion of the ship making a jump, then the slight motion that wasn't quite a lurch as they completed it.
Cavil removed his hand from the liquid and wiped it on his pants with a look of revulsion. "I'm pretty sure we have their attention," he shrugged.
"Pegasus and Galactica are launching Vipers," the Eight with her hand still in the liquid said, her tone wary.
"Of course they are, Eight," Cavil replied, glancing sidelong at Bill. "Oh, yes. Mister Adama, I know they all look alike to you humans, but this Eight is the one who put a bullet through your shoulder. I tease her relentlessly that she only managed to wing the Admiral. It's been a while since you've seen her. I do love happy reunions."
Boomer seemed to shrink slightly under Bill's gaze before she squared her shoulders in defiance. Cavil chuckled to himself and waved at Bill. "I'm calling the Admiral now. I'm going to let you speak to her very briefly, as a sort of proof of life. If you say any more than a polite hello, I'll have the Centuriouns put a bullet or three into your voicebox. Understand?"
"Yes," Bill said quietly.
"Good," Cavil replied. He put his left hand into the water again. "Okay, children, quiet time. Daddy is making a call." His eyes fluttered for a moment before speaking again, louder and toward the liquid-filled console. "Felix? So good to hear your voice. I'd like to speak with the Admiral, if she has the time to chat. We would like to discuss something of great interest to her." He paused a moment, then made a small flick of his hand toward Bill. "Here, say hello to the Admiral. Speak up. She'll be able to hear you."
- the two that were one then none are becoming one million then two then one then none -
Bill's heart thudded painfully in his chest as he looked upward toward the crackling noise that came from hidden speakers. "Laura?" he said, unsure if she really could hear him.
"Bill?" came the breathless reply that echoed around the room.
He didn't have time to react before the Centurions were marching him out of the room. He could hear Cavil talking to Laura as he left. "Mister Adama is alive and mostly well," he said as Bill was led away. "I have a proposition to make..." That was the last Bill heard before being ushered into an antechamber.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Laura's hand shook as she clutched the receiver tightly. "I don't have the time nor patience for games," she said in a deathly quiet voice. Across the plotting table from her, Saul picked up the receiver on his side and held it up, waiting for a permissive nod from her. He held his hand over the mouthpiece as he listened in.
"I assure you that I've come to you with only the best intentions," Cavil said. She could practically hear his smirk through the wireless. "I'm assuming that the always cheerful Colonel Tigh is likely listening as well. Hello, Saul. Sorry to hear about your wife. She was quite a catch. A beauty even in death."
To her surprise, Saul only stood straighter, his face becoming an impassive mask of stone. He gave no other indication of emotion other than the waves of hatred and revulsion that she practically feel rolling off of him. He looked across the table at Laura as his eye narrowed and his jaw tightened.
"You have fifteen seconds before I launch nukes and blow you out of the sky," Laura spat.
Cavil actually chuckled. "Adama said you might try that. You might want to move that itchy finger away from the launch button when you hear what I have to say, Admiral," he crowed. "Besides, you wouldn't want to harm Adama. Not when he's so close to coming home."
Laura sighed as she watched the Dradis screen, the dots representing Vipers from Galactica and Pegasus moving closer to the Cylon ship. "I'm listening," she said shortly.
"I have former President Adama on board my ship, as we've established," Cavil said. "I'm sure you're looking forward to reuniting with him. He'll probably forgive you for leaving him behind. It's such a human failing. I also have Gaius Baltar. I'm sure the rest of your people look forward to reuniting with him."
"What do you want?" Laura asked, afraid of the answer.
"I want the Cylon child, Hera," he replied. "She's of great importance to us. Give her to us, you take Adama and Baltar off our hands, and to sweeten the pot, we'll even throw in a lasting peace."
"Lasting?" Laura scoffed dubiously.
Cavil sighed impatiently. "We are as tired of this war as you are. We tried to make a go at an armistice on New Caprica. Perhaps if we're not all confined to one planet, it will last this time. We'll leave you alone, if you only give us the child."
Laura met Saul's gaze from across the plotting table. His eye fell to the lit surface below before closing slowly. He placed his hand over the mouthpiece of his wireless receiver and shook his head. "Think about this, Laura," he warned in a whisper.
She squared her shoulders and watched the Dradis screen above for a moment. "Give me a half hour," she said to Cavil. "I'm moving our Vipers back. You're still being targeted."
"I'm sure I am," Cavil replied. "Thirty minutes. Oh, and Sharon is welcome to come along if she wants. No reason to deprive a child of her mother," he said snidely.
Laura exhaled and replaced the receiver on its cradle before ordering the attack squadrons to stand-by and assume a defensive formation. No one but Saul knew what was said between her and Cavil, yet every eye was on her, silently asking for instruction.
"I hope you know what you're doing," Saul said quietly as he moved to her side.
"I hope so too," she whispered. "Find the Agathons and bring them to the Ward Room. And get Starbuck back to the ship."
"Sir," Gaeta called. "Commander Roslin is calling from Pegasus."
Laura nodded and picked the receiver up again. "Commander," she greeted him.
"What the hell is going on?" Lee asked with no pretenses of formality. "Why are you recalling Vipers?"
She didn't answer him. "I want your birds to return to Pegasus and jump to the rendezvous coordinates with the rest of the fleet," she ordered. "If we don't join you in an hour, send one recon Raptor to check on us, and if we're..." She stopped and pursed her lips. "Find Earth," she breathed.
"Admiral, I don't..."
"You have your orders, Commander," Laura snapped before hanging up the receiver.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The two Centurions that guarded the entrance stood impassively for several minutes before some unknown signal made them both raise their arms, guns emerging where finger-like appendages once existed. One of them raised an arm and gestured at the doorway.
Go, it seemed to say.
Bill warily walked into the corridor, where Baltar and presumably the same Three and Six from earlier awaited him. Baltar was still obviously uncomfortable around him, despite the presence of the Cylons who had previously sheltered him. Together, they wordlessly walked through the bowels of the ship, destination unknown, until they arrived at a large door that slowly opened as they approached. The honey-haired Six that had helped Bill awaited in the next room and as they entered it, he realized they were in some sort of an airlock. The Six gave him a brief nod before waving her hand in front of a smoky glass panel, the first door closing before the second one slowly slid open.
Beyond the airlock was a large, cavernous room, presumably a hangar deck. As he looked around, he could see damaged Raiders to one side, some of them obviously too far gone to be repaired. They walked toward the center of the hangar deck together before stopping and waiting.
The roar of a Colonial turbine engine soon filled the room as a Raptor flew around a corner at the end of the hangar. The heat and blast of air as it slowly made its descent was a welcome discomfort after living so long in the dead sterility of the Cylon ship. It spun in the air until its hatch faced toward them, then landed with a soft clank of metal on metal.
Cavil and six Centurions entered together from another doorway and joined their group. "Don't do anything stupid, Mister Adama," he said over the din of the engines, "and this will all be over soon."
The hatch of the Raptor disengaged and began to rise as the engines vented steam. Bill turned to the Six beside him as she watched the proceedings nervously. "Did you choose a name for yourself?" he asked quietly, so that Cavil couldn't hear.
"Natalie," the Six replied with a proud spark in her eyes.
"Thank you, Natalie, for everything," Bill said with genuine gratitude. "No offence, but I hope we don't meet again."
Natalie smiled broadly and nodded. "Likewise," she said. "Now go."
The hatch of the Raptor finally having risen all the way, Bill could see a few dark shapes inside. He and Baltar both moved forward, barely aware of the other, distracted by the tension in the air. Finally, a shape emerged from the steam, walking toward them. It was Sharon Agathon, carrying a bundle in her arms and walking toward what would likely be her own execution.
"No," Bill whispered, his stomach clenching in apprehension as he eyed the blanket-wrapped shape.
"This was the deal, Mister Adama," Cavil called from behind him. "Take it up with Admiral Roslin, if you'd like. But I'm a machine of my word, so you're free to go."
Sharon locked her eyes with his as she moved toward him, holding the bundle close to her. She took a step forward and dropped down from the wing of the Raptor as three marines followed behind her, fully armored and guns held at the ready. One had his gun trained on the back of her head, the other two on the Centurions in the hangar bay. She continued to walk toward them, giving Baltar a look of unfiltered disgust before turning back to Bill.
As they passed each other, she turned her head slightly toward him. "Run," she said. "Now!"
At her signal, the marines with her all surged past, firing on the surprised Cylons. Sharon unwrapped the blankets she carried, revealing not a child, but a snub-nosed assault rifle, joining in the firefight. Bill pushed forward, running as fast as he could to bridge the distance between him and the waiting Raptor, with Baltar close behind. Another marine emerged from the Raptor to wave them inside. Before Bill could reach for his outstretched hand, a pair of bullets tore through the man's body armor, his blood spraying Bill in the face. He caught the man before he slumped forward off the wing of the Raptor and pushed him back inside.
Helo stood inside the Raptor, his body shielded from the gunfire, as he helped them all into the cramped space. His tall body was practically bent double as he waved a pistol around the opening to fire at the advancing Centurions. Bill looked back to see two of the three marines down on the deck, Cavil bleeding from his neck, and Sharon limping backward, her knee obviously destroyed by a bullet. He cursed and jumped out onto the wing to help her up into the Raptor as best he could, her scream of agony a stark contrast to the shouting and arms fire as another bullet pierced her side.
"Sir!" Helo shouted, grabbing him by the back of his shirt and pulling at him hard as he extended his other arm and fired at a Centurion that had taken aim at them. The machine's head exploded in a shower of sparks and it fell awkwardly, though another was close behind to take its place. The last marine covered their escape as they ducked into the shelter of the Raptor. Baltar fled into the co-pilot's seat, buckling himself into it frantically and demanding that the pilot take off immediately.
"They're gone," Sharon gasped, nodding at the vacant eyes of the two marines who lay on the deck. "So's he," she indicated the marine he'd dragged back inside the Raptor, whose face was already losing color. She slumped to the floor, her eyes rolling backward. Bill pressed his hands into the wound on her side, blood spurting from between his fingers.
Helo punched the door control as he and the marine continued firing at the Centurions. All of the skinjobs were down except for Natalie, who stood unscathed, a beatific smile on her face. Bill gave her a slight nod in recognition before she disappeared behind the closing hatch. It closed with a hiss of compressed air and the pilot, Racetrack, if he remembered correctly, fired up the engines as bullets pinged off the hull. She furiously punched buttons on the console and pushed the acceleration lever forward. The vessel lurched up and forward, a warning alarm sounding furiously all around them. "Now, Starbuck!" Racetrack shouted into her wireless. "Just do it now!"
The craft lurched again and Bill felt the unmistakable pull of a jump, then nothing at all as the air rushed from his lungs and the world went dark.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Natalie stood still as the humans' bullets whizzed by her, stood there motionless as Cavil reached for her in supplication, stood silently when D'anna's skull was blown into bits by a stray bullet from a Centurion. She only moved when her sister Caprica wheezed her name in a plea. She bent down and cradled her sister's hair, stroking it, as this instance of life bled out of her.
"It never ends, does it?" Natalie murmured into Caprica's hair.
Caprica shuddered and took a choking breath as the Raptor rose into the air. Natalie smiled despite the carnage, knowing that its occupants would safely escape. She also dreaded the day that they would indeed see each other again. Revenge and defiance and trickery were such human qualities and Cavil and D'anna had accepted those traits with relish.
A final breath rasped from Caprica's lips as a tear streaked down her cheek and disappeared into her hair. Her body went limp before a blast of air from the Raptor's engines caused Natalie to stagger backward and fall to the deck. She looked up as the Raptor jumped directly out of the hangar bay. The shockwave sent her flying against the wall and she her head sharply, squeezing her eyes shut at the sudden pain. A second shockwave made her head spin as her stomach forced its contents up and out. Through blurred vision she could make out the second Raptor that had jumped inside the ship. This one hovered for a few seconds before something large disengaged and fell toward the deck.
In the endless moment before the bomb hit the ground and she was obliterated, her mind wondered if perhaps she would finally see the face of God in the splitting of a single atom.
~ ~ ~ end chapter one ~ ~ ~
Summary: All of this has happened before and will happen again and again until the end.
Genre: Alternate universe, but very familiar.
Rating: T
~ ~ ~ chapter one ~ ~ ~
Bill applied pressure to the gaping wound, blood spurting from between his fingers with every pulse of the heart. Dark, thick blood stained his clothing as he felt the air drawing out of his lungs. He could barely hear the shouting and chaos around him over the deafening roar in his ears.
The world went dark.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Three Hours Earlier
"Get up," Cavil said shortly.
Bill only arched a brow at the Cylon in the doorway, two Centurions flanking him. A scowl darkened his face as he stared Bill down from across the room.
"Back for more?" Bill shot back. "I didn't scream loud enough last time?"
Cavil smiled, though it never reached his eyes. "I like screamers, but you're really not my type. I prefer blondes." He snapped his fingers and pointed toward the doorway. "Let's go. Or my friends here will have to drag you, and they're not gentle."
Bill sighed and smoothed his hands over his thighs, clenching his knees once before standing on still-shaky legs. From his estimation, it had been three days since the last time he'd been tortured for information and Cavil's own amusement, judging by the occasional meal he had been given. He hadn't seen the Four or the Six who had helped him since that day.
Outside the room, Cavil led him not to the left, where he'd been taken previously, but to the right and down a twisting warren of corridors. The Cylon remained ahead of him with the Centurions bringing up the rear, their mechanical servos whirring and feet clanking against steel deckplates in a precise rhythm. Every corridor looked like the last. Every Cylon they passed looked like another they'd already seen, some even wearing the same clothing. Each gave him a passing glance as they walked. A pair of Threes regarded him with undisguised contempt, their lips twitching upward in a sneer in perfect unison. Sixes smiled mysteriously, Eights flickered their eyes nervously. He tried to keep track of the turns they made, keeping an eye out for any distinguishing features to help guide his way should the opportunity for escape arise.
"Don't bother," Cavil said as he looked back and saw Bill surveying the walls. "I've taken you in circles a few times. It amuses me."
Bill sighed and continued to follow the Cylon until they reached a room nearly identical to the room he'd been held in before. The bed in the center of the room held a set of clothing, neatly folded in a bundle, a bar of soap and a towel.
"The bathing facilities are through that door," Cavil said with a nod of his head toward the other side of the room. "Make use of them."
"All this for a bath?" Bill scoffed. He'd been given a washcloth and a bowl of water a few times in the past, his only means of cleaning himself.
"All this to make yourself somewhat presentable," Cavil replied, rolling his eyes. "For a species so obsessed with hygiene, you should be thanking me."
Bill only glared at him.
Cavil sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Let me spell this out so your inferior brain can process it. We wouldn't be giving you a bath if we were about to kill you, would we?" He wrinkled his nose in disgust. "You stink. Worse than most humans. And I would think you would want a nice shower and a change of clothes before meeting your friend the Admiral again?"
"And what do you expect to get in return?" Bill asked, trying to contain his apprehension. "I know you're not doing this out of the goodness of your heart."
Cavil gave him a mocking roll of the eyes and slapped his chest like he'd been shot. "You wound me, William. I want you off my ship and I want something in return. I could probably take it through other means, but this may be easier. Call it...a gesture of good faith." He turned to leave the room. "Wash up. You should smell nice for your Admiral. Assuming she doesn't jump the gun and attack before she can hear me out."
"Laura Roslin will blow you out of the sky, you know that, don't you?" Bill called after him.
Cavil stopped and looked back over his shoulder. "Perhaps someday. But not now. One of us doesn't have the luxury of living again."
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Some time later, after a long-overdue and much-appreciated shower, Bill dressed and sat down to wait for whatever Cavil had planned. The new clothing was far better than the dingy shirt and pants he'd been wearing for gods knew how long. He plucked at the fabric wondering where the hell it had all come from. Surely, the Cylons didn't have vast stores of garments on board on the off chance that someone his size would need them. More likely, was it some human on New Caprica who gave up their clothing and perhaps their life? The more he thought about it, the more his stomach turned over and clenched.
His eyes were closed in thought when he heard the scrape of shoes on the decking. He glanced up to see the Six model who had helped him before, or at least one who looked just like her. He kept his expression neutral as he greeted her. "Haven't seen you in a while," he rumbled.
The Six smiled nervously as her eyes darted to the Centurions at the entrance. "Cavil is ready for you," she said simply.
Bill nodded and stood up, retrieving the black jacket on the bed and slinging it around his shoulders, settling it into place. He approached the Six carefully and whispered, "What's his game? Cavil." He watched the Centurions, which gave no indication that they were interested in what they were saying. "What's he up to?"
The Six swallowed and looked at a spot in space above his shoulder. "You're useful to him," she admitted, "but only for this one thing. If it goes wrong, your situation could get even worse. You probably would't even live to see the consequences."
He was taken aback by the statement, said very matter-of-factly with a thinly veiled threat draped around it. She licked her lips and moved a little closer, her eyes darting to the Centurions. "Just do as he says and you'll go home. Isn't that what you want?"
"At what cost?"
The Six sighed and met his eyes without wavering. "You're giving us the future by leaving us," she said. "Come. They're waiting."
She led him to the same room as the ship's pilot, called somewhat reverently by the Six as the Hybrid. She, if the Cylon could be called that, or even be called a Cylon at all, lay in a large tub filled with a viscous white liquid, lit brightly by lights inside the tub. She stared blankly into the air before her, chanting seemingly random strings of words. Occasionally, he could pick up something relevant to the ship's operations. Mostly it was just nonsense.
- life support systems functioning at established parameters seeing the fields and running -
None of the Cylons in the room seemed to listen to anything she said, with the exception of the single Leoben model present. He watched her intently from his position at a raised console filled with what looked like water. A Three and an Eight had their hands in the water, their eyes moving rapidly behind closed eyelids.
"We're about to make our little rendezvous," Cavil said without looking up at him.
"You know where the fleet is?" Bill asked incredulously.
Cavil cocked his head to one side and shrugged. "We always know where the fleet is. Remember that."
- the streams connecting paths and fluttering like wings on the mist -
There was a slight scuffle behind him and Bill turned to see a pair of Centurions, along with a platinum blonde Six and a Three escorting Gaius Baltar into the room. His eyes went wide when he saw Bill and he immediately shrank into his own body, looking at him apprehensively.
"Is this a joke?" Bill snarled, moving toward Baltar, clenching his fists angrily.
The Centurions lifted their arms as guns emerged from where their hands had been. Bill took the hint and backed off.
Baltar seemed to take this as a sign that he was being protected, his shoulders straightening and his expression turning rather smug. "It's a pleasure to see you as well, Mister Adama," he said, his tone dripping with superiority as he smoothed his oily-looking hair. "You look...unwell."
"They kept hinting that you were alive," Bill replied. "I was hoping they were lying."
- in circles they keep swimming the ones who were there before in the streams -
Baltar blanched and swallowed thickly. "Yes, well, as you can see, I'm quite alive. And well," he said. His tone dropped slightly. "Though my treatment has left much to be desired." He turned and looked up at the blonde Six beside him for reassurance. She smiled and ran her hand over his shoulder affectionately.
"Can we get this over with?" the D'anna Biers model that accompanied Baltar into the room snipped. "The sooner we get rid of both of them, the better?"
"Both?" Bill and Baltar said in unison. Bill caught Baltar's eyes, his own contempt a stark contrast to Baltar's thinly masked fear.
- diverting power to primary repair the imbalance is balanced and has come again and again -
Cavil folded his arms across his chest and grimaced. "I figured we should offer the humans something extra. You," he said with a nod to Bill, "are a gift for the Admiral. And you," nodding at Baltar, "are a gift for the other forty-thousand people in the fleet. I'm pretty sure they'd love to see you again."
Baltar wavered on his feet and nearly collapsed to the floor. The Six kept him upright as the Centurions moved closer. Good. Baltar knew he was a man on borrowed time.
"Alright," Cavil called to the dozen or so Cylons in the room. "Make the jump, then make the call. Preferably before the Admiral and her progeny decide to try to blow us out of the sky. I hate resurrecting." He and two other Cylons placed their hands in the liquid console and closed their eyes, each taking on an expression of intense concentration.
A few seconds later, Bill felt the familiar pull and expansion of the ship making a jump, then the slight motion that wasn't quite a lurch as they completed it.
Cavil removed his hand from the liquid and wiped it on his pants with a look of revulsion. "I'm pretty sure we have their attention," he shrugged.
"Pegasus and Galactica are launching Vipers," the Eight with her hand still in the liquid said, her tone wary.
"Of course they are, Eight," Cavil replied, glancing sidelong at Bill. "Oh, yes. Mister Adama, I know they all look alike to you humans, but this Eight is the one who put a bullet through your shoulder. I tease her relentlessly that she only managed to wing the Admiral. It's been a while since you've seen her. I do love happy reunions."
Boomer seemed to shrink slightly under Bill's gaze before she squared her shoulders in defiance. Cavil chuckled to himself and waved at Bill. "I'm calling the Admiral now. I'm going to let you speak to her very briefly, as a sort of proof of life. If you say any more than a polite hello, I'll have the Centuriouns put a bullet or three into your voicebox. Understand?"
"Yes," Bill said quietly.
"Good," Cavil replied. He put his left hand into the water again. "Okay, children, quiet time. Daddy is making a call." His eyes fluttered for a moment before speaking again, louder and toward the liquid-filled console. "Felix? So good to hear your voice. I'd like to speak with the Admiral, if she has the time to chat. We would like to discuss something of great interest to her." He paused a moment, then made a small flick of his hand toward Bill. "Here, say hello to the Admiral. Speak up. She'll be able to hear you."
- the two that were one then none are becoming one million then two then one then none -
Bill's heart thudded painfully in his chest as he looked upward toward the crackling noise that came from hidden speakers. "Laura?" he said, unsure if she really could hear him.
"Bill?" came the breathless reply that echoed around the room.
He didn't have time to react before the Centurions were marching him out of the room. He could hear Cavil talking to Laura as he left. "Mister Adama is alive and mostly well," he said as Bill was led away. "I have a proposition to make..." That was the last Bill heard before being ushered into an antechamber.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Laura's hand shook as she clutched the receiver tightly. "I don't have the time nor patience for games," she said in a deathly quiet voice. Across the plotting table from her, Saul picked up the receiver on his side and held it up, waiting for a permissive nod from her. He held his hand over the mouthpiece as he listened in.
"I assure you that I've come to you with only the best intentions," Cavil said. She could practically hear his smirk through the wireless. "I'm assuming that the always cheerful Colonel Tigh is likely listening as well. Hello, Saul. Sorry to hear about your wife. She was quite a catch. A beauty even in death."
To her surprise, Saul only stood straighter, his face becoming an impassive mask of stone. He gave no other indication of emotion other than the waves of hatred and revulsion that she practically feel rolling off of him. He looked across the table at Laura as his eye narrowed and his jaw tightened.
"You have fifteen seconds before I launch nukes and blow you out of the sky," Laura spat.
Cavil actually chuckled. "Adama said you might try that. You might want to move that itchy finger away from the launch button when you hear what I have to say, Admiral," he crowed. "Besides, you wouldn't want to harm Adama. Not when he's so close to coming home."
Laura sighed as she watched the Dradis screen, the dots representing Vipers from Galactica and Pegasus moving closer to the Cylon ship. "I'm listening," she said shortly.
"I have former President Adama on board my ship, as we've established," Cavil said. "I'm sure you're looking forward to reuniting with him. He'll probably forgive you for leaving him behind. It's such a human failing. I also have Gaius Baltar. I'm sure the rest of your people look forward to reuniting with him."
"What do you want?" Laura asked, afraid of the answer.
"I want the Cylon child, Hera," he replied. "She's of great importance to us. Give her to us, you take Adama and Baltar off our hands, and to sweeten the pot, we'll even throw in a lasting peace."
"Lasting?" Laura scoffed dubiously.
Cavil sighed impatiently. "We are as tired of this war as you are. We tried to make a go at an armistice on New Caprica. Perhaps if we're not all confined to one planet, it will last this time. We'll leave you alone, if you only give us the child."
Laura met Saul's gaze from across the plotting table. His eye fell to the lit surface below before closing slowly. He placed his hand over the mouthpiece of his wireless receiver and shook his head. "Think about this, Laura," he warned in a whisper.
She squared her shoulders and watched the Dradis screen above for a moment. "Give me a half hour," she said to Cavil. "I'm moving our Vipers back. You're still being targeted."
"I'm sure I am," Cavil replied. "Thirty minutes. Oh, and Sharon is welcome to come along if she wants. No reason to deprive a child of her mother," he said snidely.
Laura exhaled and replaced the receiver on its cradle before ordering the attack squadrons to stand-by and assume a defensive formation. No one but Saul knew what was said between her and Cavil, yet every eye was on her, silently asking for instruction.
"I hope you know what you're doing," Saul said quietly as he moved to her side.
"I hope so too," she whispered. "Find the Agathons and bring them to the Ward Room. And get Starbuck back to the ship."
"Sir," Gaeta called. "Commander Roslin is calling from Pegasus."
Laura nodded and picked the receiver up again. "Commander," she greeted him.
"What the hell is going on?" Lee asked with no pretenses of formality. "Why are you recalling Vipers?"
She didn't answer him. "I want your birds to return to Pegasus and jump to the rendezvous coordinates with the rest of the fleet," she ordered. "If we don't join you in an hour, send one recon Raptor to check on us, and if we're..." She stopped and pursed her lips. "Find Earth," she breathed.
"Admiral, I don't..."
"You have your orders, Commander," Laura snapped before hanging up the receiver.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The two Centurions that guarded the entrance stood impassively for several minutes before some unknown signal made them both raise their arms, guns emerging where finger-like appendages once existed. One of them raised an arm and gestured at the doorway.
Go, it seemed to say.
Bill warily walked into the corridor, where Baltar and presumably the same Three and Six from earlier awaited him. Baltar was still obviously uncomfortable around him, despite the presence of the Cylons who had previously sheltered him. Together, they wordlessly walked through the bowels of the ship, destination unknown, until they arrived at a large door that slowly opened as they approached. The honey-haired Six that had helped Bill awaited in the next room and as they entered it, he realized they were in some sort of an airlock. The Six gave him a brief nod before waving her hand in front of a smoky glass panel, the first door closing before the second one slowly slid open.
Beyond the airlock was a large, cavernous room, presumably a hangar deck. As he looked around, he could see damaged Raiders to one side, some of them obviously too far gone to be repaired. They walked toward the center of the hangar deck together before stopping and waiting.
The roar of a Colonial turbine engine soon filled the room as a Raptor flew around a corner at the end of the hangar. The heat and blast of air as it slowly made its descent was a welcome discomfort after living so long in the dead sterility of the Cylon ship. It spun in the air until its hatch faced toward them, then landed with a soft clank of metal on metal.
Cavil and six Centurions entered together from another doorway and joined their group. "Don't do anything stupid, Mister Adama," he said over the din of the engines, "and this will all be over soon."
The hatch of the Raptor disengaged and began to rise as the engines vented steam. Bill turned to the Six beside him as she watched the proceedings nervously. "Did you choose a name for yourself?" he asked quietly, so that Cavil couldn't hear.
"Natalie," the Six replied with a proud spark in her eyes.
"Thank you, Natalie, for everything," Bill said with genuine gratitude. "No offence, but I hope we don't meet again."
Natalie smiled broadly and nodded. "Likewise," she said. "Now go."
The hatch of the Raptor finally having risen all the way, Bill could see a few dark shapes inside. He and Baltar both moved forward, barely aware of the other, distracted by the tension in the air. Finally, a shape emerged from the steam, walking toward them. It was Sharon Agathon, carrying a bundle in her arms and walking toward what would likely be her own execution.
"No," Bill whispered, his stomach clenching in apprehension as he eyed the blanket-wrapped shape.
"This was the deal, Mister Adama," Cavil called from behind him. "Take it up with Admiral Roslin, if you'd like. But I'm a machine of my word, so you're free to go."
Sharon locked her eyes with his as she moved toward him, holding the bundle close to her. She took a step forward and dropped down from the wing of the Raptor as three marines followed behind her, fully armored and guns held at the ready. One had his gun trained on the back of her head, the other two on the Centurions in the hangar bay. She continued to walk toward them, giving Baltar a look of unfiltered disgust before turning back to Bill.
As they passed each other, she turned her head slightly toward him. "Run," she said. "Now!"
At her signal, the marines with her all surged past, firing on the surprised Cylons. Sharon unwrapped the blankets she carried, revealing not a child, but a snub-nosed assault rifle, joining in the firefight. Bill pushed forward, running as fast as he could to bridge the distance between him and the waiting Raptor, with Baltar close behind. Another marine emerged from the Raptor to wave them inside. Before Bill could reach for his outstretched hand, a pair of bullets tore through the man's body armor, his blood spraying Bill in the face. He caught the man before he slumped forward off the wing of the Raptor and pushed him back inside.
Helo stood inside the Raptor, his body shielded from the gunfire, as he helped them all into the cramped space. His tall body was practically bent double as he waved a pistol around the opening to fire at the advancing Centurions. Bill looked back to see two of the three marines down on the deck, Cavil bleeding from his neck, and Sharon limping backward, her knee obviously destroyed by a bullet. He cursed and jumped out onto the wing to help her up into the Raptor as best he could, her scream of agony a stark contrast to the shouting and arms fire as another bullet pierced her side.
"Sir!" Helo shouted, grabbing him by the back of his shirt and pulling at him hard as he extended his other arm and fired at a Centurion that had taken aim at them. The machine's head exploded in a shower of sparks and it fell awkwardly, though another was close behind to take its place. The last marine covered their escape as they ducked into the shelter of the Raptor. Baltar fled into the co-pilot's seat, buckling himself into it frantically and demanding that the pilot take off immediately.
"They're gone," Sharon gasped, nodding at the vacant eyes of the two marines who lay on the deck. "So's he," she indicated the marine he'd dragged back inside the Raptor, whose face was already losing color. She slumped to the floor, her eyes rolling backward. Bill pressed his hands into the wound on her side, blood spurting from between his fingers.
Helo punched the door control as he and the marine continued firing at the Centurions. All of the skinjobs were down except for Natalie, who stood unscathed, a beatific smile on her face. Bill gave her a slight nod in recognition before she disappeared behind the closing hatch. It closed with a hiss of compressed air and the pilot, Racetrack, if he remembered correctly, fired up the engines as bullets pinged off the hull. She furiously punched buttons on the console and pushed the acceleration lever forward. The vessel lurched up and forward, a warning alarm sounding furiously all around them. "Now, Starbuck!" Racetrack shouted into her wireless. "Just do it now!"
The craft lurched again and Bill felt the unmistakable pull of a jump, then nothing at all as the air rushed from his lungs and the world went dark.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Natalie stood still as the humans' bullets whizzed by her, stood there motionless as Cavil reached for her in supplication, stood silently when D'anna's skull was blown into bits by a stray bullet from a Centurion. She only moved when her sister Caprica wheezed her name in a plea. She bent down and cradled her sister's hair, stroking it, as this instance of life bled out of her.
"It never ends, does it?" Natalie murmured into Caprica's hair.
Caprica shuddered and took a choking breath as the Raptor rose into the air. Natalie smiled despite the carnage, knowing that its occupants would safely escape. She also dreaded the day that they would indeed see each other again. Revenge and defiance and trickery were such human qualities and Cavil and D'anna had accepted those traits with relish.
A final breath rasped from Caprica's lips as a tear streaked down her cheek and disappeared into her hair. Her body went limp before a blast of air from the Raptor's engines caused Natalie to stagger backward and fall to the deck. She looked up as the Raptor jumped directly out of the hangar bay. The shockwave sent her flying against the wall and she her head sharply, squeezing her eyes shut at the sudden pain. A second shockwave made her head spin as her stomach forced its contents up and out. Through blurred vision she could make out the second Raptor that had jumped inside the ship. This one hovered for a few seconds before something large disengaged and fell toward the deck.
In the endless moment before the bomb hit the ground and she was obliterated, her mind wondered if perhaps she would finally see the face of God in the splitting of a single atom.
~ ~ ~ end chapter one ~ ~ ~