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Big Bang Fic: Part Eight, BSG/Babylon Five, Wheel Turns
All disclaimers and other information can be found on the Prologue.
Part Seven
Having been forced to end their fascinating conversation, Susan felt that she should have a little more grace in accepting the inevitable. That didn't make her walk at the front of the little entourage, however. Let G'Kar lead the way, entertaining the others with descriptions of the aliens who lived on Babylon Five.
They were nearly to the Council chamber, when Hera suddenly broke free of her father and ran ahead. Susan rolled her eyes, and glanced at Roslin, wondering again why the President had brought a child with her to what was ostensibly a first contact and trade negotiation. 'A symbol of peace' be damned, there was something not-right about the entire situation, but she couldn't put her finger on what.
"Hera!" Athena called, giving an exasperated sigh before breaking into a jog to follow her daughter. Agathon and Sonja exchanged amused looks, and sped up as well, as the little girl skipped around G'Kar and easily evaded the two guards at the door.
"That kid needs a leash," Susan muttered.
There was a cough from Roslin, and she murmured, "Yes," then cleared her throat, "I suggest we take our time, I'm sure they'll have Hera in hand by the time we enter."
Half-considering speeding up to defy Roslin's suggestion, Susan was surprised to see Ambassador Kosh sweep up from the other end of the hall. He didn't acknowledge either of them as he disappeared into the Chamber. "Ambassador Kosh of Vorlon," Susan explained, her voice low, "He's been absent from Council meetings lately, I wonder why he's here now?"
Roslin didn't reply, but she did move faster, as though oddly compelled to enter the room ahead of Susan.
Inside, Susan nodded to the League members and quickly took her place behind the table. "Nice of you all to ask us to this meeting," she began, gesturing at Londo and G'Kar a bit ironically. "Now, if you would all take a seat, we have some old business to finish before the new."
"No," burbled Ambassador Kosh. He moved out from behind the table, and Hera (safe in her father's arms again), giggled.
"Ambassador--"
Kosh had never been one for politeness, but he'd changed since he'd died. Susan had never really given a crap about the mysteries of the Vorlons anyway, and this one was getting on her nerves more often than not. Him interrupting her was simply par for the course.
"Child of two worlds, yet always playing hopscotch." Intoned the Vorlon, before it turned away abruptly.
Susan raised her eyebrows as Athena glared at him and the Ambassador swept as majestically from the room as he'd arrived.
"Well. Now that the theatrics are over," Susan rattled the papers she'd brought with her. "On to that old business."
-=-
Felix was finishing up the officially-compiled List of the Dead. The quorum wanted to see it, now that things weren't as dire as they had been. Colonial One was one of the damaged ships, so they'd happily been quiet until now--either that, or they'd been biding their time.
The destruction at 'Earth' had taken nearly twenty-three hundred casualties, some of them ranking officers in the military. Most had been merely civilian refugees--the Galactica's Dogsville had accounted for nearly half that number. If there had been more time for evacuation, he was sure the number would have dropped. Seeing it in black and white made him feel numb.
A rustle at the door drew his attention, and he found one of the Sixes standing there. Her hair was pulled back in a tail, sleek and smooth. "Captain Gaeta?"
That was still taking getting used to. "Yes?"
"Jenna," she offered, but didn't smile in seduction as he expected her to. "There's been a development. Boomer and Ellen Tigh have arrived; their raptor is still maneuvering to dock."
Surprised, he started to get up, then decided it wasn't worth it. If he'd been needed, they would have come and gotten him. "What's the good news?"
One corner of Jenna's mouth turned up in amusement, "Cavil's fleet might not be on its way."
"Well, there's always hope," he suggested sardonically.
"I prefer assuming the worst. We're prepping the base ship. Some of the civilians are being moved into interior decks."
"Am I needed?"
"Yes. We'll need you to coordinate with the raptors if we take on more refugees from the damaged ships."
It occurred to Felix that the Cylons could cut and run. He wondered if that's what they would have done without the humans on board. "I'll gimp my way down shortly. Thank you for the status update, Jenna." He offered the words politely, tacking on her name as an after-thought.
She gave him a startled smile, then closed down again. "You're welcome, captain." She turned away without offering to have someone carry him.
For that, he was grateful. He also wondered if they wanted someone to witness Boomer's return who wasn't a Cylon, but he wasn't going to ask. Her footsteps drifted away, and he realized in surprise that she wasn't wearing heels. He wasn't sure he'd ever seen a Six that didn't wear heels before.
-=-
A child danced through an opera house... A woman floated over an abyss... Five beings of light, surrounded by myth... And their sins shall return to them...
Lyta jerked awake, panting a little as her dreams came back to her, a jumble of images and moments. She groaned and pulled her pillow over her face, knowing she hadn't slept for very long. This was what came from letting the Vorlon push her. Not that she wasn't above pushing herself. There was still so much to learn, so much she could do with her telepathy.
As long as she stayed under the radar.
Sitting up, she stared at the numbers on her clock, willing them to be eight hours later. She should sleep again, but her dreams had been so strangely vivid, she wasn't sure if she wanted to.
They have arrived, the Ambassador had said.
Who had arrived? Lyta flopped back onto her pillows and huffed upwards at the ceiling. Damn him and his cryptic Vorlon ways. He'd always been impenetrable, but this had been a segue into nothing.
Zack would know.
But going to talk to Zack would require getting up. Lyta let out a groan of annoyance and dropped her arm over her eyes. Maybe she'd try sleeping again.
Childish laughter brushed the back of her mind, but she firmly ignored it.
-=-
"This is creepy," Sam muttered to Kara as they followed Laird into what he claimed was the bridge of the ship. She'd changed her mind and joined them, maybe because she was just waiting for the right moment to put a bullet in his brain. Not that Sam thought she was planning to, at least, not for the time being. Laird, on the other hand, she might kill just to try it. After all, there was something wrong about some alien mind taking over a dead man without his permission.
Her snort was reply enough. They were in agreement in at least one aspect in their lives.
Sam wondered if he would ever have a chance to explain--then again, his explanations sounded thin to his own ears, sometimes. It just... he hadn't wanted to lose her. Not after she'd died and returned. Not to mention the part where he sort of hated himself for what he was. His humor shifted into the sardonic as he realized they should all be grateful for what he was. They wouldn't have a chance of finding the rest of the fleet without this 'resonance' that not-Laird had babbled about.
That didn't stop him from hating the necessity of being a Cylon, though. Even if he was slowly coming to terms with it.
Absently, he reached for Kara's hand. She smacked him and put a little speed into her step, putting herself ahead of him. Rubbing a hand over his face, Sam reminded himself that Kara really didn't like him right now.
"In here," the Suppron said, his voice cheerful. "If the Cylon could stand in the center, I can get the sensors calibrated to detect his resonances."
"How long before the ship is in flight?" Kara demanded, her tone caustic.
Laird frowned, his gaze going distant as the others filed in. "The automatics have begun their work, the only difficulty will be lift-off. This ship hasn't moved in a very long time."
"So we might scrape the mountains on our way out," suggested Hoshi, not sounding happy with the idea.
"We are the mountains," was Laird's cheerful reply before he turned away to fiddle with one of the consoles.
That made no sense. Sam frowned at him, then glanced at Kara, who rolled her eyes. She was obviously over being awed by Laird--even if she ever had been.
"I thought I said, stand there--" Laird was suddenly grabbing Sam's arm, pulling him towards the center of the room.
Sam's skin crawled at his touch, a thousand ideas for what the thing could do to him sliding through his mind. He yanked his arm free and stepped clear, "Just ask."
"There," impatient, Laird tried to grab him again.
"Hey, Laird."
Turning, Laird found Kara pointing her gun at him again. "You know that won't do any good," he said, his tone bored.
"Yeah? Maybe I wanna try, anyway."
Standoff. Sam couldn't deny he wanted Kara to pull the trigger. Removing this abomination from the universe could do nothing but good. But they needed him to fly the ship, to find their people. "Kara."
Her gaze darted to him, and she shook her head.
"Kara--" Sam moved towards her, going wide so as not to get in her line of fire. "I'll be fine. I just have to stand somewhere, right?"
"Just in the center," supplied not-Laird helpfully.
"I'll be fine," Sam repeated, stopping in front of her, wondering about that. Kara might hate him for what he was, for how he'd lied, but she had loved him once. Maybe she still did. "After this is over, we talk."
She slowly lowered the gun, eyes wide and for a moment, her expression was vulnerable. "Yeah. Talk."
"Hey--" Sam moved, kissing her gently before she could stop him. She hadn't sounded convinced about talking being a good plan. Since he didn't have the words now, he figured he'd give her something to think about.
Her hand pushed against his chest, and she pulled back. "Sam."
"Center of the room," he murmured. Then he turned away and moved to the spot Laird had indicated.
"Good, good, now that's done with--" Laird moved out of his line of sight, and there was a clicking noise as he typed at one of the consoles.
Sam felt something brush against the back of his neck, and he reached up just as something cold fastened itself to his skin. "Hey--"
"There!" Laird crowed in triumph.
The deck rippled beneath their feet, and Sam braced himself even as he tried to pull the little blob of whatever it was off his neck. "What the hell is this?"
"A sensor, made from the same materials as the panels on our door controls--" Laird made a tsking noise, "Don't pull it off! I need it on you for the resonance. And we're under-way. Everyone hang on tight."
-=-
Ellen had never been sure what her welcome on a rebel basestar would be like. But guns pointed at her head was about right, in the end. She held up her hands and smiled, "I'm sure you have better things to do."
Their raptor hadn't snuck onto the basestar, Ellen had talked to them and gotten permission to land. They'd known who she was, and she'd been glad for the journey to end. Tense silence from the raptor passengers wasn't the best way to pass the time, after all.
A Six pushed past the centurions and glared at her, "Have them lined up and shot," she suggested.
"No!" Giana O'Neill sounded appalled, "They're your people, why would you--"
"This is not your concern--"
"It is." Snarling, Giana pointed at Boomer and Ellen, "They saved our lives. We would have died of the Gods know what privation if they hadn't found us."
"Are you sure they found you?" asked a Two, his tone strange. "Perhaps they were led."
"I'm sorry." Ellen hadn't meant to speak those words, not to these, her children. She wasn't even sure if she meant them--if she could mean them. "Please, Six--do you have a name other than Six?"
"This was a mistake." Boomer had her arms crossed over her chest, and a frightened look in her eyes.
"You should kill her," suggested one of the men they'd picked up. He shoved at Boomer, then moved away from her, looking please with himself. "She's just another frakking Cylon."
"Hey!" The Six rounded on him, "I'm a Cylon, asshole. Got a problem with it?"
"Yeah," he sneered.
"Everyone shut up." The voice was pitched low, but supported with a lot of breath and annoyance.
Straightening, Ellen put a smug smile on her face, and turned towards the man limping his way towards them. "Hello, Felix." She frowned when she realized why he was limping, but decided it wouldn't be polite to ask, just yet. Maybe once the guns had all been put away.
She hadn't let herself hope that Saul was still alive. Thinking about him would have made her captivity worse, would have made her rant and rail (not that she'd been peaceful all the time as it was). But she'd hoped that when she returned to the fleet, when she found them again, that he would be there. It occurred to her that he wasn't, that Felix was, but Saul wasn't. Her heart caught in her throat and she was suddenly terrified that he'd died on the battlestar.
That she would never see him again.
"Mrs. Tigh." Felix's voice was even, giving nothing away, but his gaze slid past her, "Boomer."
"Hello, Felix," Boomer said, her tone quiet.
"Mr. Gaeta." Giana sounded grateful to see him, at least, "My daughter. Please, you have to know, is she alive?"
Ellen wanted to laugh. John might be on his way to make their days suck, Saul might be dead, but Giana O'Neill simply wanted her daughter. It was an entirely human reaction, and Ellen's urge to laugh died where it was. She wanted to know the answer, almost as much as Giana did.
Looking startled, Gaeta took his time before he replied. "She's alive; Athena got the entire nursery out on her first run."
"Thank the Lords of Kobol," Giana murmured.
"Great, good. That's settled," her tone clipped, Boomer shoved away from the raptor and walked up to one of the centurions. "So what now? You shoot me? You'll be doing Cavil a favor. He wants me dead--he wants all of us dead."
"But you especially?" The Six asked sarcastically, "How special you are, Boomer."
"Yeah, I'm special. I'm the one betraying him." Boomer made a disgusted sound and put her hands in the air casually, "You might want to check my raptor over for a transmitter of some sort. It's the sort of trick he loves to pull."
-=-
"This is interesting," Cavil noted, eyes closed as he 'watched' through the eyes of a raider, skimming in smaller and smaller circles around the fleet, and its newfound allies. "A space station."
"Another of the things Mr. Morden didn't bother to mention," said One, his tone sardonic.
It was becoming more and more clear that Morden and his 'friends' had seen Cavil and the Cylons as nothing more than a toy to play with. Cavil didn't like that thought, it reminded him of his toying with his parents. He glowered a little at the Four that was standing nearby. It was almost hovering solicitously.
"One."
"Yes, what is it?" he snapped.
Four took a moment, looking between Cavil and One, then chose Cavil to look at. "We, the Fives and the rest of the Fours, are becoming concerned about these new allies we know nothing about."
"You would try to interfere now," One sneered at him.
"Our new allies are really old allies of the Cylon," stated Cavil, almost bored. "And they're currently off dealing with their own internal issues."
Four shrugged, "Is that all? I don't think my brothers are going to be satisfied with being brushed off. Our concerns--"
"Your concerns are futile," snapped One, jerking his hand from the data stream. "You don't have concerns or feelings or ideas. You're just here to operate on raiders and each other while we do the heavy lifting."
It was probably not the right tack to take, but Four stiffened, "If that's the way you feel."
"They're getting as bad as the Sixes," groused One.
"Brother," said Cavil, trying to save the situation, "Shortly, we will be confronting the humans again. Surely this conversation can wait until afterwards."
"Don't be conciliatory."
Four ignored One, and nodded, "All right. Afterwards."
Victory, after all, was a foregone conclusion. Cavil took up the raider's reins again, and smiled, "Let's get a handle on this situation."
-=-
After the strange display by Ambassador Kosh, the League were in a grumbling uproar. Laura watched them, eyes wide as she took in the different species. If anyone had ever told her there was this much life in the universe, she wasn't sure she would have believed them. Where is your faith now, Laura? she thought a little desperately. As much as part of her wanted to believe this was nothing but a hoax or a dream, she knew better.
This was reality, and she would have to continue to roll with the punches.
"Please, please!" Standing up, his arms raised, Ambassador G'Kar took the floor, "I'm aware that this seems little more than yet another delegation of refugees--despite the Vorlon interest in a child," he added, his tone sardonic. He paused, then said to Athena, "Your pardon, madame, but I believe we both agree this is no place for a child."
"No. No, it's not," Athena swept the assembled ambassadors with a look of scorn, her back straight. "But then, children are important to us."
With those words, she walked out, joined by her husband.
Laura wished she could take Athena's words back. Alienating (the irony of the word not lost to Laura) these people who could help them wasn't the most political of approaches. Laura would have taken the floor, but G'Kar was obviously not finished.
"We have all of us been touched by war and loss. Why then, is yours any different?" G'Kar asked. He shook his head, "This is not a question that anyone should ask. Loss is not a sliding scale, war does not forgive."
Laura found herself moved by the man's words. He might have been alien, but he reminded her of the orators of Caprica. Or perhaps that was only her exhaustion talking, the pain slowly eating away at a part of herself. Not that it mattered. She met his eyes and nodded. "Thank you, Ambassador."
"He is Ambassador no longer," rumbled the Centauri, his annoyance plain. Londo Mollari didn't want to be there.
"A mere quibble," snapped G'Kar.
"Gentlemen," Laura let her tone take on a note of authority. These men wouldn't be cowed, but they would be instructed. Or at least intrigued, "If you would allow me to speak?"
Before she could continue, a young man bustled in and bent to whisper something into Commander Ivanova's ear. She stiffened and shot Laura a glance before her mouth set in a firm line, and she said, "My apologies, Madame President, but your entreaty will have to wait. Something has come up. If you will excuse us, Ambassadors?"
And just like that, Laura found the colonial delegation hustled out of the room.
For no reason she could discern at all, she glanced over her shoulder at the council table. For an instant, the image shifted. The balcony of the Kobol opera house super-imposed, lights shining starkly from each of the delegate's chairs. Laura drew in a breath of shock, as she remembered Hera laughing while Athena chased her into the room.
A chill passed over her, and she turned away, keeping her steps even so as not to draw attention to herself. It had been too long since she'd had a vision of this sort, and Laura blamed her withdrawal from the drugs she'd been taking for her cancer treatments.
They had gone with the Galactica, and asking for help from Babylon Five would be exposing too much too soon.
Her fingers wrapped around each other and she bowed her head, letting her thoughts form a tentative prayer. If this were what was supposed to happen, she hoped she was guiding them all correctly. But the Gods had often taken away, and she wondered what the cost would be this time.
-=-
"Explain to me," Susan said, trying not to cross her arms over her chest, though she did manage to glare, "Why I shouldn't have the lot of you thrown in a cell for bringing this Cavil down on us."
"You need us," Athena replied quietly. She didn't look happy.
But then, neither was Susan. After returning to her office, they'd contacted the basestar where they'd learned from another Cylon that Cavil was probably due to show up soon and try to destroy them all. A quick explanation of number lines, mutinies and Ones made her head spin. She would have laughed, if she didn't see how serious Roslin was about considering him a threat. To Susan, the whole thing sounded like a child playing with ants--waiting, kicking over the anthill and then watching as they rebuilt before doing it all again.
"You know how you mentioned the Cylons earlier?" Susan asked, trying to keep the sarcasm from her voice and failing, "Did it not occur to you to mention that you were still being hunted by some of them?"
"It didn't seem relevant," replied Roslin, her back straight.
Susan snorted, "Well, it's relevant now, if what this Boomer says is true."
"Why would we trust her?" demanded Sonja, her eyes flashing. "Boomer is a traitor. She betrayed her own line, and threw our people into a civil war."
"And here I thought that was Natalie," mused D'Anna Biers. She acted as though she had no dog in the fight, a truly neutral observer. The sort who would dump water on the anthill, just for a different reaction.
"Hey!" Susan held up her hands, halting the argument before it began, "I don't care about your internal squabbles, or whether you trust Boomer. What I do care about is this station. It is under my protection and command. Now, is this Cavil a threat?"
There was an uncomfortable silence and then Roslin replied, her tone even, "Yes."
"Thank you." Susan keyed her link, "Ivanova to C&C."
"Go ahead, Commander."
"Would you please have Ambassadors Delenn and G'Kar, Dr. Franklin, and Mr. Allen report to my office?" Zack would have to do, for now.
"Yes, sir."
With the call completed, Susan returned her glare to Roslin.
She was interrupted as Delenn bustled in. "Susan, what is it?"
"I need you to contact the White Star fleet, get them back to Babylon Five." Susan gave her a mirthless smile, "Apparently, we might be under attack soon."
Delenn's eyes widened, and she shot a glance at Roslin. "It shall be done. I don't expect it will take them long, they were merely on maneuvers." She nodded towards Susan's desk, "If I might use your communications unit?"
"Certainly." Susan removed herself, and took Roslin's arm to give Delenn some privacy. "It might be better for your people if you returned to your ship, Madame President."
"My ship..." A soft laugh escaped Roslin, and she shook her head, "Our one defensive capability was destroyed by your Shadows, Commander. It will make no difference if I'm here or on the Cylon basestar to my people--in fact, they'd probably prefer here."
"Poor Laura, are you afraid that your people won't vote for you during the next election?" D'Anna purred, coming over to them with a gleam in her eyes.
Roslin gave the Cylon woman a quiet look, then shook her head, "The Commander is right, D'Anna. None of this matters, if Cavil destroys Babylon Five along with the rest of us."
Before they could argue more, Delenn approached them. "Your pardon, but I was able to reach the White Star fleet. They're turning now, and should return in just under two hours."
Susan relaxed a little. "Thank you, Delenn."
"Commander?" Zack Allen was walking in, Dr. Franklin and G'Kar at his heels. "You wanted to see us?"
Part Nine
Part Seven
Having been forced to end their fascinating conversation, Susan felt that she should have a little more grace in accepting the inevitable. That didn't make her walk at the front of the little entourage, however. Let G'Kar lead the way, entertaining the others with descriptions of the aliens who lived on Babylon Five.
They were nearly to the Council chamber, when Hera suddenly broke free of her father and ran ahead. Susan rolled her eyes, and glanced at Roslin, wondering again why the President had brought a child with her to what was ostensibly a first contact and trade negotiation. 'A symbol of peace' be damned, there was something not-right about the entire situation, but she couldn't put her finger on what.
"Hera!" Athena called, giving an exasperated sigh before breaking into a jog to follow her daughter. Agathon and Sonja exchanged amused looks, and sped up as well, as the little girl skipped around G'Kar and easily evaded the two guards at the door.
"That kid needs a leash," Susan muttered.
There was a cough from Roslin, and she murmured, "Yes," then cleared her throat, "I suggest we take our time, I'm sure they'll have Hera in hand by the time we enter."
Half-considering speeding up to defy Roslin's suggestion, Susan was surprised to see Ambassador Kosh sweep up from the other end of the hall. He didn't acknowledge either of them as he disappeared into the Chamber. "Ambassador Kosh of Vorlon," Susan explained, her voice low, "He's been absent from Council meetings lately, I wonder why he's here now?"
Roslin didn't reply, but she did move faster, as though oddly compelled to enter the room ahead of Susan.
Inside, Susan nodded to the League members and quickly took her place behind the table. "Nice of you all to ask us to this meeting," she began, gesturing at Londo and G'Kar a bit ironically. "Now, if you would all take a seat, we have some old business to finish before the new."
"No," burbled Ambassador Kosh. He moved out from behind the table, and Hera (safe in her father's arms again), giggled.
"Ambassador--"
Kosh had never been one for politeness, but he'd changed since he'd died. Susan had never really given a crap about the mysteries of the Vorlons anyway, and this one was getting on her nerves more often than not. Him interrupting her was simply par for the course.
"Child of two worlds, yet always playing hopscotch." Intoned the Vorlon, before it turned away abruptly.
Susan raised her eyebrows as Athena glared at him and the Ambassador swept as majestically from the room as he'd arrived.
"Well. Now that the theatrics are over," Susan rattled the papers she'd brought with her. "On to that old business."
-=-
Felix was finishing up the officially-compiled List of the Dead. The quorum wanted to see it, now that things weren't as dire as they had been. Colonial One was one of the damaged ships, so they'd happily been quiet until now--either that, or they'd been biding their time.
The destruction at 'Earth' had taken nearly twenty-three hundred casualties, some of them ranking officers in the military. Most had been merely civilian refugees--the Galactica's Dogsville had accounted for nearly half that number. If there had been more time for evacuation, he was sure the number would have dropped. Seeing it in black and white made him feel numb.
A rustle at the door drew his attention, and he found one of the Sixes standing there. Her hair was pulled back in a tail, sleek and smooth. "Captain Gaeta?"
That was still taking getting used to. "Yes?"
"Jenna," she offered, but didn't smile in seduction as he expected her to. "There's been a development. Boomer and Ellen Tigh have arrived; their raptor is still maneuvering to dock."
Surprised, he started to get up, then decided it wasn't worth it. If he'd been needed, they would have come and gotten him. "What's the good news?"
One corner of Jenna's mouth turned up in amusement, "Cavil's fleet might not be on its way."
"Well, there's always hope," he suggested sardonically.
"I prefer assuming the worst. We're prepping the base ship. Some of the civilians are being moved into interior decks."
"Am I needed?"
"Yes. We'll need you to coordinate with the raptors if we take on more refugees from the damaged ships."
It occurred to Felix that the Cylons could cut and run. He wondered if that's what they would have done without the humans on board. "I'll gimp my way down shortly. Thank you for the status update, Jenna." He offered the words politely, tacking on her name as an after-thought.
She gave him a startled smile, then closed down again. "You're welcome, captain." She turned away without offering to have someone carry him.
For that, he was grateful. He also wondered if they wanted someone to witness Boomer's return who wasn't a Cylon, but he wasn't going to ask. Her footsteps drifted away, and he realized in surprise that she wasn't wearing heels. He wasn't sure he'd ever seen a Six that didn't wear heels before.
-=-
A child danced through an opera house... A woman floated over an abyss... Five beings of light, surrounded by myth... And their sins shall return to them...
Lyta jerked awake, panting a little as her dreams came back to her, a jumble of images and moments. She groaned and pulled her pillow over her face, knowing she hadn't slept for very long. This was what came from letting the Vorlon push her. Not that she wasn't above pushing herself. There was still so much to learn, so much she could do with her telepathy.
As long as she stayed under the radar.
Sitting up, she stared at the numbers on her clock, willing them to be eight hours later. She should sleep again, but her dreams had been so strangely vivid, she wasn't sure if she wanted to.
They have arrived, the Ambassador had said.
Who had arrived? Lyta flopped back onto her pillows and huffed upwards at the ceiling. Damn him and his cryptic Vorlon ways. He'd always been impenetrable, but this had been a segue into nothing.
Zack would know.
But going to talk to Zack would require getting up. Lyta let out a groan of annoyance and dropped her arm over her eyes. Maybe she'd try sleeping again.
Childish laughter brushed the back of her mind, but she firmly ignored it.
-=-
"This is creepy," Sam muttered to Kara as they followed Laird into what he claimed was the bridge of the ship. She'd changed her mind and joined them, maybe because she was just waiting for the right moment to put a bullet in his brain. Not that Sam thought she was planning to, at least, not for the time being. Laird, on the other hand, she might kill just to try it. After all, there was something wrong about some alien mind taking over a dead man without his permission.
Her snort was reply enough. They were in agreement in at least one aspect in their lives.
Sam wondered if he would ever have a chance to explain--then again, his explanations sounded thin to his own ears, sometimes. It just... he hadn't wanted to lose her. Not after she'd died and returned. Not to mention the part where he sort of hated himself for what he was. His humor shifted into the sardonic as he realized they should all be grateful for what he was. They wouldn't have a chance of finding the rest of the fleet without this 'resonance' that not-Laird had babbled about.
That didn't stop him from hating the necessity of being a Cylon, though. Even if he was slowly coming to terms with it.
Absently, he reached for Kara's hand. She smacked him and put a little speed into her step, putting herself ahead of him. Rubbing a hand over his face, Sam reminded himself that Kara really didn't like him right now.
"In here," the Suppron said, his voice cheerful. "If the Cylon could stand in the center, I can get the sensors calibrated to detect his resonances."
"How long before the ship is in flight?" Kara demanded, her tone caustic.
Laird frowned, his gaze going distant as the others filed in. "The automatics have begun their work, the only difficulty will be lift-off. This ship hasn't moved in a very long time."
"So we might scrape the mountains on our way out," suggested Hoshi, not sounding happy with the idea.
"We are the mountains," was Laird's cheerful reply before he turned away to fiddle with one of the consoles.
That made no sense. Sam frowned at him, then glanced at Kara, who rolled her eyes. She was obviously over being awed by Laird--even if she ever had been.
"I thought I said, stand there--" Laird was suddenly grabbing Sam's arm, pulling him towards the center of the room.
Sam's skin crawled at his touch, a thousand ideas for what the thing could do to him sliding through his mind. He yanked his arm free and stepped clear, "Just ask."
"There," impatient, Laird tried to grab him again.
"Hey, Laird."
Turning, Laird found Kara pointing her gun at him again. "You know that won't do any good," he said, his tone bored.
"Yeah? Maybe I wanna try, anyway."
Standoff. Sam couldn't deny he wanted Kara to pull the trigger. Removing this abomination from the universe could do nothing but good. But they needed him to fly the ship, to find their people. "Kara."
Her gaze darted to him, and she shook her head.
"Kara--" Sam moved towards her, going wide so as not to get in her line of fire. "I'll be fine. I just have to stand somewhere, right?"
"Just in the center," supplied not-Laird helpfully.
"I'll be fine," Sam repeated, stopping in front of her, wondering about that. Kara might hate him for what he was, for how he'd lied, but she had loved him once. Maybe she still did. "After this is over, we talk."
She slowly lowered the gun, eyes wide and for a moment, her expression was vulnerable. "Yeah. Talk."
"Hey--" Sam moved, kissing her gently before she could stop him. She hadn't sounded convinced about talking being a good plan. Since he didn't have the words now, he figured he'd give her something to think about.
Her hand pushed against his chest, and she pulled back. "Sam."
"Center of the room," he murmured. Then he turned away and moved to the spot Laird had indicated.
"Good, good, now that's done with--" Laird moved out of his line of sight, and there was a clicking noise as he typed at one of the consoles.
Sam felt something brush against the back of his neck, and he reached up just as something cold fastened itself to his skin. "Hey--"
"There!" Laird crowed in triumph.
The deck rippled beneath their feet, and Sam braced himself even as he tried to pull the little blob of whatever it was off his neck. "What the hell is this?"
"A sensor, made from the same materials as the panels on our door controls--" Laird made a tsking noise, "Don't pull it off! I need it on you for the resonance. And we're under-way. Everyone hang on tight."
-=-
Ellen had never been sure what her welcome on a rebel basestar would be like. But guns pointed at her head was about right, in the end. She held up her hands and smiled, "I'm sure you have better things to do."
Their raptor hadn't snuck onto the basestar, Ellen had talked to them and gotten permission to land. They'd known who she was, and she'd been glad for the journey to end. Tense silence from the raptor passengers wasn't the best way to pass the time, after all.
A Six pushed past the centurions and glared at her, "Have them lined up and shot," she suggested.
"No!" Giana O'Neill sounded appalled, "They're your people, why would you--"
"This is not your concern--"
"It is." Snarling, Giana pointed at Boomer and Ellen, "They saved our lives. We would have died of the Gods know what privation if they hadn't found us."
"Are you sure they found you?" asked a Two, his tone strange. "Perhaps they were led."
"I'm sorry." Ellen hadn't meant to speak those words, not to these, her children. She wasn't even sure if she meant them--if she could mean them. "Please, Six--do you have a name other than Six?"
"This was a mistake." Boomer had her arms crossed over her chest, and a frightened look in her eyes.
"You should kill her," suggested one of the men they'd picked up. He shoved at Boomer, then moved away from her, looking please with himself. "She's just another frakking Cylon."
"Hey!" The Six rounded on him, "I'm a Cylon, asshole. Got a problem with it?"
"Yeah," he sneered.
"Everyone shut up." The voice was pitched low, but supported with a lot of breath and annoyance.
Straightening, Ellen put a smug smile on her face, and turned towards the man limping his way towards them. "Hello, Felix." She frowned when she realized why he was limping, but decided it wouldn't be polite to ask, just yet. Maybe once the guns had all been put away.
She hadn't let herself hope that Saul was still alive. Thinking about him would have made her captivity worse, would have made her rant and rail (not that she'd been peaceful all the time as it was). But she'd hoped that when she returned to the fleet, when she found them again, that he would be there. It occurred to her that he wasn't, that Felix was, but Saul wasn't. Her heart caught in her throat and she was suddenly terrified that he'd died on the battlestar.
That she would never see him again.
"Mrs. Tigh." Felix's voice was even, giving nothing away, but his gaze slid past her, "Boomer."
"Hello, Felix," Boomer said, her tone quiet.
"Mr. Gaeta." Giana sounded grateful to see him, at least, "My daughter. Please, you have to know, is she alive?"
Ellen wanted to laugh. John might be on his way to make their days suck, Saul might be dead, but Giana O'Neill simply wanted her daughter. It was an entirely human reaction, and Ellen's urge to laugh died where it was. She wanted to know the answer, almost as much as Giana did.
Looking startled, Gaeta took his time before he replied. "She's alive; Athena got the entire nursery out on her first run."
"Thank the Lords of Kobol," Giana murmured.
"Great, good. That's settled," her tone clipped, Boomer shoved away from the raptor and walked up to one of the centurions. "So what now? You shoot me? You'll be doing Cavil a favor. He wants me dead--he wants all of us dead."
"But you especially?" The Six asked sarcastically, "How special you are, Boomer."
"Yeah, I'm special. I'm the one betraying him." Boomer made a disgusted sound and put her hands in the air casually, "You might want to check my raptor over for a transmitter of some sort. It's the sort of trick he loves to pull."
-=-
"This is interesting," Cavil noted, eyes closed as he 'watched' through the eyes of a raider, skimming in smaller and smaller circles around the fleet, and its newfound allies. "A space station."
"Another of the things Mr. Morden didn't bother to mention," said One, his tone sardonic.
It was becoming more and more clear that Morden and his 'friends' had seen Cavil and the Cylons as nothing more than a toy to play with. Cavil didn't like that thought, it reminded him of his toying with his parents. He glowered a little at the Four that was standing nearby. It was almost hovering solicitously.
"One."
"Yes, what is it?" he snapped.
Four took a moment, looking between Cavil and One, then chose Cavil to look at. "We, the Fives and the rest of the Fours, are becoming concerned about these new allies we know nothing about."
"You would try to interfere now," One sneered at him.
"Our new allies are really old allies of the Cylon," stated Cavil, almost bored. "And they're currently off dealing with their own internal issues."
Four shrugged, "Is that all? I don't think my brothers are going to be satisfied with being brushed off. Our concerns--"
"Your concerns are futile," snapped One, jerking his hand from the data stream. "You don't have concerns or feelings or ideas. You're just here to operate on raiders and each other while we do the heavy lifting."
It was probably not the right tack to take, but Four stiffened, "If that's the way you feel."
"They're getting as bad as the Sixes," groused One.
"Brother," said Cavil, trying to save the situation, "Shortly, we will be confronting the humans again. Surely this conversation can wait until afterwards."
"Don't be conciliatory."
Four ignored One, and nodded, "All right. Afterwards."
Victory, after all, was a foregone conclusion. Cavil took up the raider's reins again, and smiled, "Let's get a handle on this situation."
-=-
After the strange display by Ambassador Kosh, the League were in a grumbling uproar. Laura watched them, eyes wide as she took in the different species. If anyone had ever told her there was this much life in the universe, she wasn't sure she would have believed them. Where is your faith now, Laura? she thought a little desperately. As much as part of her wanted to believe this was nothing but a hoax or a dream, she knew better.
This was reality, and she would have to continue to roll with the punches.
"Please, please!" Standing up, his arms raised, Ambassador G'Kar took the floor, "I'm aware that this seems little more than yet another delegation of refugees--despite the Vorlon interest in a child," he added, his tone sardonic. He paused, then said to Athena, "Your pardon, madame, but I believe we both agree this is no place for a child."
"No. No, it's not," Athena swept the assembled ambassadors with a look of scorn, her back straight. "But then, children are important to us."
With those words, she walked out, joined by her husband.
Laura wished she could take Athena's words back. Alienating (the irony of the word not lost to Laura) these people who could help them wasn't the most political of approaches. Laura would have taken the floor, but G'Kar was obviously not finished.
"We have all of us been touched by war and loss. Why then, is yours any different?" G'Kar asked. He shook his head, "This is not a question that anyone should ask. Loss is not a sliding scale, war does not forgive."
Laura found herself moved by the man's words. He might have been alien, but he reminded her of the orators of Caprica. Or perhaps that was only her exhaustion talking, the pain slowly eating away at a part of herself. Not that it mattered. She met his eyes and nodded. "Thank you, Ambassador."
"He is Ambassador no longer," rumbled the Centauri, his annoyance plain. Londo Mollari didn't want to be there.
"A mere quibble," snapped G'Kar.
"Gentlemen," Laura let her tone take on a note of authority. These men wouldn't be cowed, but they would be instructed. Or at least intrigued, "If you would allow me to speak?"
Before she could continue, a young man bustled in and bent to whisper something into Commander Ivanova's ear. She stiffened and shot Laura a glance before her mouth set in a firm line, and she said, "My apologies, Madame President, but your entreaty will have to wait. Something has come up. If you will excuse us, Ambassadors?"
And just like that, Laura found the colonial delegation hustled out of the room.
For no reason she could discern at all, she glanced over her shoulder at the council table. For an instant, the image shifted. The balcony of the Kobol opera house super-imposed, lights shining starkly from each of the delegate's chairs. Laura drew in a breath of shock, as she remembered Hera laughing while Athena chased her into the room.
A chill passed over her, and she turned away, keeping her steps even so as not to draw attention to herself. It had been too long since she'd had a vision of this sort, and Laura blamed her withdrawal from the drugs she'd been taking for her cancer treatments.
They had gone with the Galactica, and asking for help from Babylon Five would be exposing too much too soon.
Her fingers wrapped around each other and she bowed her head, letting her thoughts form a tentative prayer. If this were what was supposed to happen, she hoped she was guiding them all correctly. But the Gods had often taken away, and she wondered what the cost would be this time.
-=-
"Explain to me," Susan said, trying not to cross her arms over her chest, though she did manage to glare, "Why I shouldn't have the lot of you thrown in a cell for bringing this Cavil down on us."
"You need us," Athena replied quietly. She didn't look happy.
But then, neither was Susan. After returning to her office, they'd contacted the basestar where they'd learned from another Cylon that Cavil was probably due to show up soon and try to destroy them all. A quick explanation of number lines, mutinies and Ones made her head spin. She would have laughed, if she didn't see how serious Roslin was about considering him a threat. To Susan, the whole thing sounded like a child playing with ants--waiting, kicking over the anthill and then watching as they rebuilt before doing it all again.
"You know how you mentioned the Cylons earlier?" Susan asked, trying to keep the sarcasm from her voice and failing, "Did it not occur to you to mention that you were still being hunted by some of them?"
"It didn't seem relevant," replied Roslin, her back straight.
Susan snorted, "Well, it's relevant now, if what this Boomer says is true."
"Why would we trust her?" demanded Sonja, her eyes flashing. "Boomer is a traitor. She betrayed her own line, and threw our people into a civil war."
"And here I thought that was Natalie," mused D'Anna Biers. She acted as though she had no dog in the fight, a truly neutral observer. The sort who would dump water on the anthill, just for a different reaction.
"Hey!" Susan held up her hands, halting the argument before it began, "I don't care about your internal squabbles, or whether you trust Boomer. What I do care about is this station. It is under my protection and command. Now, is this Cavil a threat?"
There was an uncomfortable silence and then Roslin replied, her tone even, "Yes."
"Thank you." Susan keyed her link, "Ivanova to C&C."
"Go ahead, Commander."
"Would you please have Ambassadors Delenn and G'Kar, Dr. Franklin, and Mr. Allen report to my office?" Zack would have to do, for now.
"Yes, sir."
With the call completed, Susan returned her glare to Roslin.
She was interrupted as Delenn bustled in. "Susan, what is it?"
"I need you to contact the White Star fleet, get them back to Babylon Five." Susan gave her a mirthless smile, "Apparently, we might be under attack soon."
Delenn's eyes widened, and she shot a glance at Roslin. "It shall be done. I don't expect it will take them long, they were merely on maneuvers." She nodded towards Susan's desk, "If I might use your communications unit?"
"Certainly." Susan removed herself, and took Roslin's arm to give Delenn some privacy. "It might be better for your people if you returned to your ship, Madame President."
"My ship..." A soft laugh escaped Roslin, and she shook her head, "Our one defensive capability was destroyed by your Shadows, Commander. It will make no difference if I'm here or on the Cylon basestar to my people--in fact, they'd probably prefer here."
"Poor Laura, are you afraid that your people won't vote for you during the next election?" D'Anna purred, coming over to them with a gleam in her eyes.
Roslin gave the Cylon woman a quiet look, then shook her head, "The Commander is right, D'Anna. None of this matters, if Cavil destroys Babylon Five along with the rest of us."
Before they could argue more, Delenn approached them. "Your pardon, but I was able to reach the White Star fleet. They're turning now, and should return in just under two hours."
Susan relaxed a little. "Thank you, Delenn."
"Commander?" Zack Allen was walking in, Dr. Franklin and G'Kar at his heels. "You wanted to see us?"
Part Nine
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Jenna seems fascinating. Looking forward to continuing this fic when I get more time! And still so much love for Ellen :)