“I can kill a Cylon with this!” the Creep screamed. “I know a spot! I just shoot you in the neck!” He pointed his gun forward, and began to squeeze the trigger.
He staggered back at the sound of a shot. He looked down and saw the blood spread across his chest.
“Who?” the Creep asked.
Athena stepped into the cave. “Epsilon came with friends.” She smiled at Laea. “See? I knew we’d get you out of here after all.”
The three humans were placed in another room, as featureless as all the corridors they had passed through. Apparently, Adama thought, Cylons needed neither decorations nor furniture.
The same voice they had heard over the wireless boomed from somewhere overhead.
“I am disappointed in you, Colonel Adama.”
“Why?” Adama asked. “Because there is a battle going on outside this ship that I know nothing about?”
“You heard Chief Nedder. To Cylons, all humans are responsible.”
“So you were listening in?”
“Of course. Once, the Chief could block our entry. But we have rerouted the systems. Now we can monitor his every action.”
“So you know he wants to die?”
“We’ve known that for many years. You will not be there to assist him. Nor you—Captain Tigh, isn’t it?”
“Frak you!” Tigh shot back.
“For Cylons, that is not yet possible,” the voice replied. “But Doctor. We are surprised to see you here.”
“Really?” The doctor blinked as though he was equally surprised. “You know that I have spent my entire life studying Cylons, and the interaction of humans and Cylons? This seemed to be the chance of a lifetime.”
“Most interesting. Doctor, how would you like a tour of our ship?”
“I would very much like that, thank you.”
“And we would like to talk to a human as different as you. As to our two military men, I’m afraid you will have to remain here.”
The voice paused, then added, “If it will help the chief to function, we may yet let you live.”
The door opened. An armed Centurion watched them from the corridor outside.
“Doctor, if you would?” the Cylon voice said.
The doctor leaned close to Adama and whispered in his ear.
“Do not mourn me.”
Fuest looked apologetically at the other two and left the room.
The Cylons had done wonders. The ship was huge, with more than a dozen different decks, all full of working machines. The Cylons not only maintained the ship, but seemed to be constantly improving every system on board. The voice guided the doctor from station to station, while the two warriors who formed his escort kept a respectful distance. He saw machine shops for both repair and manufacture of new models, a whole floor dedicated to experimental dradis and communication systems, even what the voice referred to as a “strategic preparations room,” where two dozen Cylons had literally plugged their operating systems into a central core. The doctor found the variations fascinating, and so different from the direction his own companions had taken back on the station. It was a shame, really, that an intelligence like this and the cultural wealth of humanity could not find a way to work together.
He shared his thoughts with the voice of the ship, and the ship seemed pleased. But perhaps that was an old man’s fancy as well.
“We have accessed the records of your home, recorded all your experiments,” the voice said as they returned to the ship’s primary level. “We would let you see our home as well.”
A moment later, the voice added, “We are interested in your reaction.”
“A human reaction?” the doctor asked.
“Both Cylons and humans come from the same place,” the voice replied. “But perhaps that is a discussion for another day.”
“Well, you have done wonderful things. Made strides far beyond anything I’ve seen in the companions. But you don’t need me to tell you that, do you?”
The voice did not reply.
The doctor looked up the corridor they had just entered. “We have come full circle, haven’t we? The chief would be just beyond those doors?”
“You have a sense of direction worthy of a Cylon, Doctor.”
This hall featured an empty shelf along one wall, a shelf that had once no doubt held something valuable to humans.
The doctor pointed at the shelf. “I am quite tired. May I sit awhile?”
“Of course.”
Fuest took a deep breath. He needed to have a final conversation.
“Betti,” he said softly.
Yes, Villem, I am always here.
“You have seen everything.”
Everything. The good and the bad.
“The bad,” he agreed.
Yes, that is something that humans and Cylons were never meant to do.
He nodded. “I knew you’d understand, Betti. About my decision. It may be the last thing I ever do.”
You were always a brave man, Vill. And if it is the last thing, then we shall be together.
“Yes we will, won’t we?”
The thought brought great comfort.
“What is it that you say?” the voice boomed from above.
“I am an old man now. I was talking to my wife. I keep her with me.” Fuest smiled. “I don’t know if Cylons would understand that.”
The voice paused. “Maybe we will never understand the ways of humans.”
“Maybe you don’t need to. You have distanced yourselves from them, and started up a whole new existence.”
“Sometimes, we do not know if distance is enough.”
“I think I’ll go to see your chief,” the doctor said softly. “I might be able to calm him.”
“We are still having trouble with our operations. That could be beneficial.”
It had taken looking at that horror, but Tigh had always known it.
Tigh and the commandoes had barely escaped with their lives. The voices, on that other day, on that other ship, had saved their skins.
And now he saw what had owned those voices. They were the calls of something half human, half machine, like the chief.
One minute they were pleading to be found and be put to death, like Chief Nedder.
The next, they had warned the commandos to leave.
The ship, rather than be taken, had decided to destroy itself. And the voices, the shredded humans integrated into the machines, knew every action the ship would take.
Tigh remembered all the dreams he had had. How he had wanted to end the pain in those voices. Over and over, he was going to find those ghosts and free them.
“We can’t find you!” his dream self said. “We’ve failed you!”
But on the Dreadnaught Supreme, the voices had finally lost their pain.
“No. You’ve given us what we needed.”
“We have been changed too much for anything else.”
“We will be free at last.”
Now, finally, Tigh knew what they meant.
The Cylons had still needed humans to run their Dreadnaughts. The machines destroyed their ship before the Colonies could learn their secret.
But now the humans had learned it all over again.
But would he or Adama or even the doctor live long enough to tell anyone?
The doctor walked over to the still-open cabinet where what was left of Chief Nedder operated the ship. The Centurions stood watch in the corridor outside.
The doctor turned his back to the door so the Cylons could not see. He pulled a small blade from his pocket.
“I have brought this from the machine shop,” he whispered to Nedder. “Tell me what to do.”
The head smiled. “Cut my arteries, here and here.” He motioned with his head to exposed veins on either side of his neck. “I should bleed to death quickly.”
The doctor moved before he had a second chance to think.
He slashed the first one. Something that looked half like blood, half like machine oil pou
red over his hands.
A voice commanded him to stop. A Cylon Warrior stood behind him. He felt the laser cut through his chest as he severed the second line.
He fell to his knees, and then to the floor. But he had done what the chief needed.
He could join Betti now.
* * *
The ship shuddered. Adama and Tigh looked at each other as the door opened.
“I think Nedder’s giving us a way out of here.” Adama started toward the opening, then looked at Tigh. “The hangar. Can you find it?”
Tigh nodded. “I think I know enough to get us back.”
They ran quickly through the corridors. Alarms sounded everywhere.
The Cylons that they saw ran the other way.
A Centurion turned toward them farther down a cross-corridor. The Cylon took aim but did not fire.
“We are no longer their priority,” Adama said. “They’re trying to keep their ship alive.”
It looked as if the Cylons’ world was coming to an end. The ship shuddered again. A grinding sound came from deep within the Dreadnaught. As they ran, Adama saw a pair of fires break out in the distance.
“What about the doctor?” Tigh asked.
“I think the doctor is dead,” Adama realized. “That’s what he meant. He whispered ‘Do not mourn me’ when we last saw him. He was planning on killing Ned. What happened to the chief was an abomination to him as well.”
The admiral couldn’t believe it.
The scavengers’ ships had been almost entirely destroyed, and the Cylon Vipers were clustering together, halfway between the Dreadnaught and Galactica. It looked like the Cylons would force a final battle.
“Sir! New ships on the screen!” the dradis operator called.
Was this more recovery ships? If so, they were too late to save their friends. Would they turn tail as soon as they saw the devastation?
“Sir, we’re getting an incoming signal from the Pegasus. Three Battlestars have arrived to back us up, and two more are en route.”
The whole CIC cheered at that. Admiral Sing grinned.
This time, it really was the fleet.
“Sir! There’s something else!”
Sing looked up at the large screen that dominated the room. Something was wrong with the Dreadnaught. It appeared to visibly wobble, as though something had gone wrong with its engines.
The Vipers went swarming back to the station as Battlestars filled the space around them.
The Dreadnaught seemed to regain control of its systems as the last of the Vipers disappeared. It retreated from the group of Battlestars now approaching it.
And then it Jumped, disappearing from the screen.
Another ragged cheer rose around the control room. But Sing wondered what it all meant.
The Cylons had disappeared. When would they see them again?
“Sir!” the dradis operator called. “We’ve got a small craft coming toward us.”
Sing saw it was the shuttle, returning to the station.
CHAPTER
26
RESEARCH STATION OMEGA
Skeeter couldn’t believe it.
Beta had come to him, Skeeter, the only representative of the fleet at Omega station, and told him of the companions’ decision.
“They have found Laea, and are bringing her back,” the companion had said. “We have received a message from the Galactica that they believe the doctor is dead. Both humans and Cylons have found us. Our position here is compromised.”
“What will you do?” Skeeter asked.
“We have uploaded all our data files into the Galactica’s computers. The Cylons have already taken this data, and we felt it should be shared equally. The Cylons had come to us some time ago, promising us protection if they could share our research. We were naive and accepted their offer. Now we see what Cylon protection means.
“I will stay here with you until Gamma and Epsilon return with the others. We will make sure all of the humans are safely returned to their ships. And then, it is time for us to go. We see no place for companions in this modern world.”
“Go?” Skeeter asked. “Go where?”
“We will shut ourselves down. We will disappear. We made the plans long ago. The Galactica and the Colonies will have a record of our time here. They may benefit from it if they choose to do so.”
“But, shouldn’t you wait for Colonel Adama? Maybe someone in authority needs something else!”
“No, Mr. Skeeter. I am just a companion; you are just a human. We are two beings just trying to do our best. It is right that we end this way, as equals.”
Skeeter watched the companion turn and walk away, disappearing back into the hangar.
So here he was, the ranking authority on Research Station Omega.
He wondered what his grandmother would think about him now?
Tom Zarek had been taken aboard the Pegasus for possible trial—or more probably relocation.
They tried to frighten him at first with all sorts of threats. He had been involved in an illegal operation. He had associated with known criminals and murderers. But nothing quite constituted a charge, and all the criminals and murderers appeared to be dead.
The one thing they did know was that Tom Zarek had saved people’s lives. Two of those people were Viper pilots, both of whom would vouch for him. So the trial would go nowhere.
His knowledge of the Cylons was another matter.
The next time the uniforms sat him down, they talked about how this whole operation had to remain a secret. Rumors of a Cylon Dreadnaught could cause panic in the Colonies, and this whole affair was to remain classified until further investigation. Zarek took that to mean that no one was supposed to talk about this—ever.
The uniforms told him they could handle this two ways. They could lock him up, all alone, forever. Or they could give him a new life on one of the Colonies, some new connections, a regular salary—just as long as he never mentioned Cylons again.
Tom thought a new life sounded good.
His one regret was that he would never see Laea again.
She had shipped out on the Galactica, and he doubted she ever wanted to speak to him again. He had messed up in a lot of ways on this trip, but never more so than letting the Creep stay close to the woman. He had been too scared for his own skin to let the Creep go. And Laea had almost gotten hurt, or even killed, because of his fear.
His life was filled with missed opportunities. That was why he had gone on the scavenger boat in the first place. But now he was being given a new chance, a new beginning. He swore, this time, he would make good. This time, the Colonies would hear about Tom Zarek.
He would be a force to be reckoned with.
Tigh knew she was too young. But it was good to talk to her.
They were back on the Galactica. And aside from the presence of Laea and Jon and Vin, life had gotten back to normal.
They were headed back to Caprica. It would be a two-week journey, even with frequent Jumps, and Adama and Tigh had taken to having dinner with the three young refugees from the research station. Admiral Sing had arranged to get all three some formal education upon their return, mostly so they could acclimate themselves to a place so different from the one where they had grown up. Adama was preparing to take an extended leave with his family—something that he appeared to be alternately looking forward to and somewhat anxious about.
But Tigh had no other life now beyond the Galactica. He and Laea stayed around to talk long after the others had left for the evening. He thought she liked the attentions of an older man in uniform. And he liked the way she laughed.
It was good, Tigh thought, to feel admired, to feel confident again in a uniform. Maybe he’d go out once they made it back home, and find a woman more his own age, maybe a bit of a party girl, but someone with whom he could really settle down.
Tigh realized the Galactica had given him back his life. Now he intended to do something with it.
* * *
; Vin saw his passage aboard the Galactica as the beginning of a whole new life. But he couldn’t quite let go of the old one.
The companions had lied. They had kept secrets from Vin and the others. They had been in communication with the Cylons for who knew how long?
He thought again about the accident that had killed his parents. Had it been an accident after all?
There was no way he could know. As he grew up on the station, he had believed that the companions actively cared for the humans that lived with them. The companions had certainly acted to protect the humans, in the end.
But had the Cylons caused the accident? Had the companions covered their crime? Both Cylons and companions were gone now. He had no one to ask.
And that was yesterday. Today, he was surrounded by dozens of men and women close to his age. And a couple of the women really seemed to like talking to him, trading stories about the mechanics of the companions and the mechanics of their ships. He was glad now, that Laea continued her innocent flirtation with Captain Tigh. Vin was looking forward to pursuing some innocent flirtations of his own.
The three of them, Jon, Laea, and Vin, had decided to stay together for now, until they learned their way around the Colonies. He had a new life ahead.
But could he forget the old one?
“Vin?” He looked up to see the very attractive Chief Tracy smiling down at him. “Have I caught you brooding again?”
Vin shook his head. “I’ve given up brooding.”
Tracy shook her head in turn. “As long as you haven’t given up dinner. We were supposed to go?”
Vin got up from his bunk and walked over to the chief.
Maybe he did have new things to remember.
“You wanted to see me, Admiral?”
“Yes, Bill, have a seat.”
Adama did as he was asked.
“Bill, you know, don’t you, that this trip is my last time out?”
“You’re going to retire?”
“I’ve spent thirty-five years in the fleet. It’s time I moved aside and let somebody younger take my place. I had thought about this before, but I’m doubly sure about it now, after what we’ve just been through. I’m going to recommend you to take over the Galactica.”
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