Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"I know your secret," Gauis Baltar stage whispered, loud enough for the recording system to pick up.

For one horrible moment, Felix Gaeta wondered if he had slipped. Said something, maybe while drunk, in front of Gauis Baltar. He had liked Gauis Baltar. Baltar reminded him of so many things, of so many people. His father, most of all. It was possible that he had let his guard down.

It had been so long since he had let his guard down.

Baltar leaned in, touching his hair. " I saw you in the temple. I know you're a Cylon, Felix."

And in an instant Felix realized just how low Baltar was willing to sink in order to save himself. Baltar was going to throw him on the fire and try to pin all of the New Caprica mess on him. Worse, he was going to use a Cylon accusation to get Felix killed. Why on earth did I ever think this man was the key, Gaeta thought tiredly, and why does he think I won't do what's necessary.

The fleet had to find Earth in order to save what little they had left. He'd given so many hints to Baltar. He wasn't allowed to do more, although he had carefully used the FTL calculations to take the fleet in the right direction. He had hoped that Baltar would be the one, the one who would take the clues and put them together, and when he had noticed the readings on New Caprica, it had been all he could do to not just draw Baltar a diagram.

That was against the rules of course.

And now Baltar… who had betrayed every trust he'd ever been given, was trying to get him killed. For spite. To get petty revenge because Felix hadn't rolled down in the filth with him. As if it had been easy to get past the Cylons. They were good with computers. Eerily good. Good enough that even with their deceptively low tech ships, they could infiltrate a world and set up another holocaust.

It was hard when one's loyalties were split. He had gone native enough among the colonials that he knew when they discovered his true secret, most of them wouldn't understand. They were good people, but not exactly evolved, the colonials. There were times he wanted to scream his secret at them.

There were times that keeping the secret was the only thing that kept him sane.

And there were times that Felix Gaeta embraced the morals of the people he had learned to love after being with them so long. He grabbed the pen and stabbed Gauis Baltar in the neck.

Because Felix was tired of living with humans who acted like savages. He missed his home, that he was most likely never going to see again, and no one at Starfleet Academy had ever mentioned how difficult upholding the Prime Directive was.

He missed Earth.

~*~

" You were under incredible pressure," Counselor and Starfleet Commander Deanna Troi said quietly. It was a difficult case. Murder, or attempted murder, was a crime in the Federation, but what Lt. Cmdr. Felix Gaeta had described had already made her mentally check off the box marked "not competent at the time of the crime". And also the "justifiable homicide" box, although she knew that was more of a gut reaction.

She had met Dr. Gauis Baltar briefly. It hadn't been pleasant.

And she didn't envy the counselor stuck with the chore of attempting to heal that bundle of sociopathic and narcissist attributes, but it wasn't her problem. Her problem was Felix Gaeta. Lt. Commander Felix Gaeta, who had been Ensign Felix Gaeta when he had been caught in an unstable wormhole while running a scientific experiment. The runabout had been damaged, and the wormhole closed. He had time to transmit his position, deep in the Beta Quadrant but not time to get back through the wormhole. Lost, in other words, and duty bound not to reveal higher technology to more primitive cultures.

She hadn't planned to start their first session with such a heavy topic. It had only been forty eight hours since Felix had been brought on board the Enterprise. He had spent most of the previous day being debriefed and would likely spend a good portion of his time being debriefed, assisting with the newfound "colonists", and helping the Federation scientists with assessing the threat the new enemy, the Cylons posed. She had planned to make sure he was comfortable, not overwhelmed by the situation, help him start the reintegration process. It had been ten years. Things would be awkward for him. Awkward and painful.

But the moment he walked into the room, she knew she had a bigger problem than helping someone who had lost ten years of their life living on a backwater primitive world. Gaeta's mind rolled with guilt and self loathing, it was like being hit by a baseball bat. She had expected some depression. Depression was the overwhelming feeling in the colonial fleet, so much so that she had felt it necessary to warn off some of the emergency relief offered. Gaeta though… She was worried. So she asked him what was bothering him.

Now she had to help him deal with it.

"Going into deep cover, it's a possibility that everyone in Starfleet considers, but very few ever have to face." It was basically a platitude, but Troi wasn't going to commit to much more than that until she had a better idea of what had actually happened. Not that she thought Gaeta was lying.

She thought he was too overwhelmed with guilt to think he deserved forgiveness. He was self destructive and wanted people to be angry with him. Which meant he was going to exaggerate his culpability.

" I tried to kill a man," Gaeta said after a moment. He leaned forward, and Deanna was struck by how unwell he looked. " I tried to kill a man, just because I was angry. Don't you care?"

"Yes, I do care, Felix," she said easily as she moved closer to him. She noted the slight flinch and added that to the list she was making in her head, and then she took his hand. "It's not my job to punish you. It's my job to counsel you. From what you describe, you were under unbearable pressure. This man was your friend, someone you respected, and he was not innocent. What happened to Cylons when they were caught?"

He looked down and nervously rubbed his fingers against the cuffs of his new uniform. "It doesn't matter…."

" Yes it does. What would happen? To traitors and to Cylons?" Nothing good, Deanna was certain of that. She could feel Felix's anxiety ramp up.

" Cylons were locked up. In the brig. Sometimes they were tortured. Or shot." He hesitated. " On the Pegasus, it was worse. They raped their Cylon prisoner."

The Pegasus? Deanna wondered but kept silent on that, and on his interesting avoidance of traitors. " He was trying to divert attention away from his crimes onto you. So that you would be tortured and killed." And it was interesting to say the least that Felix was confessing to attempted murder, when the people in charge of the rag tag fugitive fleet had said nothing of the sort. " The stress… the situation… You may have had a psychotic break. You may have acted on rage, or out of self preservation, but you need to understand that you did have a right to feel anger. But this isn't the only thing that's bothering you, is it?"

He shrugged. " I don't know why anyone bothered giving me a uniform. I've been in the Colonial Fleet for longer than I was in Starfleet. And I'm a lieutenant commander? It feels like a joke."

" You were listed as missing in action." Which under Starfleet regulations meant he was promoted as soon as he made time in grade. It was a little silly but the reality was that it was done for the families. It was almost unheard for someone lost the way Felix Gaeta had been to return.

He smiled wryly at her. " It's meaningless, Counselor Troi. Especially since we both know I'm going to spend the rest of my life in some penal colony."

Deanna shook her head. " You don't know that, Felix."

" I violated the Prime Directive. Repeatedly."

" It's not your call. Many Starfleet officers have committed what they thought were violations and were only reprimanded. Some were even rewarded." Deanna allowed herself to chuckle, although it was a serious concern. " If I remember my Federation history, Admiral Kirk made a career out of Prime Directive violations."

Gaeta rolled his eyes at her. " I'm not James Kirk, my luck doesn't run that way."

Chapter Text

"I'm concerned," President Laura Roslin said, after a very long moment of thought. She gestured to the heavy stack of paperwork. " They could literally overpower us. Take what little we have to offer, and leave us destitute." It was frightening.

Bill Adama shrugged. " They already have, Laura."

She looked sharply at him. That wasn't the answer she expected to hear. " What do you mean, Bill?" Because while she was concerned, she knew a part of it was her natural tendency to distrust miracles. She was looking for things to be wrong. She didn't expect Bill to agree with her.

" They have our tactical officer." He said it easily but sharply, sharply enough that she understood that he wasn't happy with her. She had expected that. It was unspoken that she didn't interfere with military matters, and she had. And in retrospect…

No, she told herself, it was the right thing to do. She could have insisted. The Starfleet captain, one Jean-Luc Picard, had looked conciliatory on the point but she had overridden Bill. Because she suspected that the Starfleet ship could outgun them easily. Because the Galactica was dead in the water until the FTL drive was back up. Because the people were sick and hungry and the Starfleet captain had offered food and medical supplies immediately and hadn't used possession of Felix Gaeta as a bargaining chip.

There were other reasons.

" I don't think we need to worry about Lt. Gaeta's loyalty," she said finally.

Adama looked at her intently. " Are you serious?" He stood up, and began to pace around his small quarters. " He never so much as blinked when we discussed Earth. He's known the whole time. You don't want to know how difficult it was for me to not beat him down when he said he was a Starfleet officer."

" I do know. That's one of the reasons I overrode you." She waited for him to digest that. "I was worried for his safety, and just how awful it would look if we did insist on keeping him and then someone who doesn't have your self control killed him. Have you thought about that?" She took a deep breath. " As worried as I am about being treated fairly, it doesn't change the fact that the nightmare of the last four years is essentially over. I'm positive these people think we're savages. We need to start combating that."

"They have no idea what it's been like," Bill said tiredly. He sat down beside her. " One of them… Riker? Actually asked Saul what the crew did for entertainment."

Roslin let that sink in. " What did Col. Tigh say?"

Bill shrugged. " I didn't ask. Some variation on drinking, frakking, and fighting, knowing Saul. None of this changes the actual problem. They have a perfect source of intelligence about us. For all we know, they have Gaeta under interrogation, doped to his eyes with truth drugs."

"Do you think that, really?" She didn't. Gaeta had looked relieved. Not afraid in the slightest. If anything he had been close to tears from joy. They all had been close to tears from joy. And the Starfleet officers she had met… seemed squeamish.

"No," Bill said after a long moment. " But we have to accept the fact that he is being debriefed. And ultimately his loyalty is not to us. He's an expert with the FTL drive. The FTL drive, and the Cylon prisoner, are our only bargaining chips with these people, the only thing we have to offer, and Gaeta can give them one, and he has a lot of information on the other. If we accept what they've told us at face value, it doesn't even matter. They could destroy the Cylons like swatting flies."

She could hear the tinge of anger in his voice. She considered her options. It wasn't time. He was going to be very angry when he found out, but that couldn't be helped. "So what do you suggest? We're meeting with the captain of that ship in less than twenty minutes."

"Do you think they can be trusted?" He asked it almost casually.

" For the most part." She hesitated. " Can I make a suggestion?"

Bill looked at her. " Of course."

" Don't mistake gentleness for weakness." She looked him in the eyes. " We both made that mistake with Felix Gaeta. Don't make it again."

~*~

Captain Jean-Luc Picard stepped out of the runabout and onto the deck of the Battlestar Galactica. The crew didn't completely stop what they were doing, which he took as a good sign. They were getting used to seeing Starfleet people and he considered that a good thing. The colonials were a fairly paranoid people, which was to be expected. First contacts were touchy. Especially with a society whose only contact so far had been so devastating.

They looked hungry, he thought worriedly. He had food and medical supplies being shuttled over non stop, but he understood that the admiral of the fleet had insisted that the civilian population have first access. He hadn't yet allowed replicators to be placed on the ships, because the colonists weren't openly asking for membership in the Federation, but he assumed that would be a matter of time. They were a shattered people, he doubted that if he did give them replicators that they would be able to make more, not without help, but he had to be cautious.

" Is it just me," Will Riker said softly, " Or is that man wearing a uniform that's held together with metal staples?" He didn't point. Just a flick of the eyes and Picard knew which man he meant.

" Yes, Number One. If you'll notice, the two young women in the corner, the twins? Can't possibly be older than sixteen." More like thirteen, if he was any judge. " These are desperate people."

Riker nodded. " It's…" He waved expansively. " It makes me wonder how well we would have done. If the Borg had taken Earth."

" That's an interesting thought, Will." And an uncomfortable one, considering his own role in the Borg assault on Earth, but Picard let that roll away. Riker had a point, and a good one, and it was certainly something that would be relayed to the boarding parties. The colonists appeared primitive partly because they had been running for their lives. Most of the fleet was composed of people who had been traveling short distances between the colonies, with little in the way of personal possessions. Most of the small fleet's ships weren't designed to carry passengers for any length of time, and the level of squalor was appalling. On the other hand, it was simply amazing that any of these people had survived at all, from what Lt. Gaeta had told them.

Lt. Commander Felix Gaeta was an entirely different problem. Fortunately not a serious one, at least not a serious one for Starfleet. Picard knew that Prime Directive violations had to be investigated, but all it took was looking around the Galactica to see that the violations couldn't have been serious. There were no phasers juryrigged or replicators, or photon torpedos. The Galactica didn't even have traditional shielding. And Gaeta had hardly been living large, using the fruits of Federation technology to secure himself fame and fortune. Just the opposite.

" Just remember," he said softly as their escort, a young blonde woman in a colonial officers uniform began to step over to them. " They may be as human as we are, but this is a first contact."

" You must love this," Riker said after a moment. " Has there ever been a better example of a Preserver seeded society? Worshippers of the Greek pantheon… with space flight."

" And any number of potentially violent factions crammed into ships that are barely able to fly," Picard warned. He nodded pleasantly to the young female officer who had approached them. " Captain Thrace? Are you our escort today?"

The woman nodded. She was young, and hard eyed, and like many of the colonials, there was a faint aura of violence hanging around her. She reminded him of Tasha Yar. " The Admiral and the President are waiting."

They followed her through the maze of corridors. The Galactica was a very large ship, and Picard had to admit, there were a lot of questions he had about the colonials and their technology. It seemed to have developed along completely different lines. Those different lines included an FTL drive that worked without dilithium and that was very interesting. The fact that the colonials were human was enough to bypass some first contact rules. The fact that they had an FTL drive that wasn't based on warp technology meant that it was a Federation priority to get them to accept Federation help and membership. It was going to be tricky.

Both the Admiral and the President rose when they entered the room. Picard hadn't needed the briefing from Gaeta to know that he was looking at two very sharp individuals. Admiral Adama looked like a grizzled war horse that wouldn't hesitate to bite. He didn't smile. President Laura Roslin did smile, and Picard steeled himself. Roslin was a pleasant looking older woman, and he could see that she knew how to use that. She was crafty, in other words.

" We have a problem," she said simply as they all took their seats. Captain Thrace snorted with amusement. Roslin gave her a bemused look." Well, we have many problems, but this one is a bit awkward. I believe you're aware that the Galactica is having some trouble with its jump drive."

Picard nodded. From their previous meeting, he had understood that the main reason the Galactica hadn't simply run upon detecting the Enterprise was that there had been a massive malfunction in the drive. The civilian fleet had flitted away in the blink of an eye, returning only after contact had been made. It had been impressive, as impressive as the display the smaller ships called Raptors had put on. " There's no pressing need to leave this area."

" One of the few people left who can fix the drive is Lt. Gaeta." Adama said, his voice a faint growl.

Interesting, Picard thought. He almost wished that he had brought Troi with him, just to get a more accurate read on what was happening. Recovering a Starfleet officer in deep cover was rare enough, made entirely unique by an unprecedented first contact situation. He had asked Adama to relinquish the man partly because it didn't take being telepathic to see that any number of the Galactica's command staff felt grossly betrayed, and partly because it removed a potential temptation.

They were a desperate people. Leaving Felix Gaeta with them meant leaving a bargaining chip. A bargaining chip that could be tortured, and Picard had absolutely no doubt after speaking with Gaeta that torture was in the tool chest of the Twelve Colonies. Plus, he rather suspected that it wouldn't take much to get Gaeta talking. Troi's reports made it clear that the man felt guilty over not helping the colonials, that he blamed himself for any number of deaths. It said something about Starfleet training methods that a freshly graduated officer with next to no practical experience hadn't yielded to temptation, but it was better to remove the temptation. For everyone's sake.

At the same time, he could see the concern. The colonial ranking structure was different. "Lieutenant" was clearly a lower rank with them than it was in Starfleet, but Gaeta had explained his duties, and it was fair to say that he had been fairly high in the command structure. The tactical officer, and navigator, and apparently the only functional science officer, and if it was hard enough to be so desperate for help that ships getting supplies were in order of who was starving the most, it had to be very hard to say no to even high handed requests. It had to have occurred to them that they gave up a source of intelligence.

It was also entirely possible they were telling the truth, that they needed Gaeta to fix the ship. " He is a Starfleet officer. We have our own concerns about this matter."

" What? Is he going to get a medal for keeping his mouth shut while people were dying?" Thrace sneered. Her anger was written on her face. " Trust me, he's real good at that."

Adama rose to his feet. " You may excuse yourself, Captain Thrace. Go to your quarters and stay there until I send for you."

Thrace shot him an angry look, but wilted after a long moment. Picard allowed his estimation of Adama's leadership to grow. Thrace looked like a handful, but she clearly respected the man. Not enough to be silent, but enough to feel bad.

" I apologize for Captain Thrace's remarks." Adama said. " This Prime Directive of yours… There's some who are unhappy with the choices Mr. Gaeta has made in its name. Myself among them."

Roslin tapped her stack of paper. She smiled slightly and Picard found himself smiling back. It was an interesting dynamic between the two, he thought. He suspected Roslin was the stronger of the two.

" Let's cut to the chase," Roslin said pleasantly. " We're not fools. We understand that Starfleet has first claim on Lt. Gaeta. We also understand that he's going to be an invaluable tool to you in dealing with our culture. However, it hasn't escaped me that you're very interested in our jump drive. I am extremely grateful for the help, you seem like very nice people, and we have nothing to offer. Nothing but the FTL drive, and Lt. Gaeta, who was required by your laws to not share any technical information due to our status as an uncontacted civilization, has spent ten years learning our technology. He's very bright. I suspect you know that. He can give you the drive."

" Wait…." Riker said. He glanced at Picard, and Picard nodded. He had no problem with what Riker was going to say. It wasn't a secret and the colonial government clearly needed some assurances.

" Our laws works both ways," Riker said pleasantly. " We don't steal. Mr. Gaeta can not tell us how your technology works. It's an unprecedented situation, but you do have rights. If we had found one of your ships abandoned, then we could send in research scientists and back engineer it but everything would be carefully noted and if the society that built the ship was found, compensation would be offered. Mr. Gaeta told us that your drive was comparable to our lower end warp engines and we are very interested, but he made it very clear that our laws do apply to his knowledge."

"If it eases your mind at all," Picard added, equally pleasant, " We agree with him completely. This is your knowledge."

Much to his surprise, Admiral Adama chuckled. " I should have let Captain Thrace stay. She'll be happy to know Mr. Gaeta's ability to be quiet has finally paid off."

Chapter Text

" I'm being tracked, aren't I?" Gaeta asked as he took a seat in the counselor's room. " By the computer system?"

" Yes," Troi said easily.

" I'm not suicidal." It was the truth, at least he thought it was. It was hard to think about dying when so many things were happening.

Troi looked at him, smiling slightly as she took a seat in the chair opposite his. " I don't think you're suicidal. Not actively. I would have you wearing a wrist monitor if I thought you were."

A wrist monitor. He had forgotten about those. A sensor that signaled when his life signs went outside the normal range. Or if he took off the monitor. That was worse than being tracked. Not that he was suicidal. " It's not very private," he said finally.

" I've been on the Galactica," Troi said after a moment. " I can't imagine that the Enterprise is less private. Even with tracking. The computer only tracks where you are, not what you're doing. Unless you want a wrist monitor?"

" No…" Protesting wasn't going to work, obviously. He didn't want a wrist monitor, if only because everyone knew what that meant. He didn't want to die, not really, and he was already on display for the crew as the poor bastard stuck living with savages for ten years. Of course no one said that. The people who made up Starfleet were… naïve. He had been naïve. He hated himself for that. For seeing the best in people when the smart thing to do was to assume that there was nothing good at all. He should have known better. He was supposed to be smart.

"I'm concerned about you, Felix." The counselor looked at him intently. " I don't think you care in the slightest whether you live or die. I think you want something bad to happen, that you somehow deserve to be treated badly."

"That's … Not right." It wasn't right, he knew that. It wasn't right that everything worked out for him. Not when so many had died.

Troi leaned forward. " Have you heard from your family? Your parents?"

He almost growled in anger. Of course she knew he had heard from his family. She was monitoring his every move. She had probably watched the message his parents had made before he saw it.

Only that wasn't true, he supposed. It was like the fleet, the colonial fleet, to watch a video message but the Federation was different. Slightly different. People in Starfleet would feel a few pangs before reading or watching his mail. " My parents sent a message…They're pretty happy."

They were ecstatic. He knew he needed to respond, to send them a message. He just didn't know how. They had no idea what it had been like. Every one of his sisters had, in ten years, managed to name a niece or a nephew after him. It was eerie. He didn't even know what to say to his parents.

" Did you miss your family?" Troi asked.

He almost rolled his eyes. Almost. " Yes. Of course. But… There was no way to get back." He shuddered. The irony was that he had been lucky. He could have spent years alone, hiding from a non human society, living in a cave. Or worse. Caprica had been a godsend. The Beta Quadrant was essentially devoid of life. Devoid of life and critical supplies. He had been lucky that the badly damaged runabout had held together long enough to find a planet with breathable air.

The counselor was expecting an answer though. " I put my family out of my mind. The more I thought about my cover story, the more real it was." Because slipping up was dangerous.

" Difficult, I imagine. How well did that work?" Troi looked at him expectantly.

" Well. It worked well. It was hard the first year." He waited for the question. She was good, he knew that.

" What did you tell people? About your past?" Troi asked.

" What do you mean?" She was good. He had expected a few questions on how hard it was.

" About your past. Who is Felix Gaeta to the people in the colonial fleet?" She looked at him expectantly.

" I told everyone I was an orphan. I faked some school records, and I joined the colonial military." He hesitated. " The FTL drive… if I had a ship of my own, I could have come back but it would have taken years, and they didn't design for long term flight. A ship big enough to carry supplies for that long of a trip… Needed more than one person to man it." He had tried to just put it out of his mind. Money was important in the colonies, and ships were designed and owned by major syndicates. The replicator had barely been able to make him clothes and a little money and id. " I was lucky to figure out how to insert my identity in the Caprican central computer system. Honestly I was pretty… I was pretty desperate at that point. I didn't understand the culture. So I enlisted in the military and said I was from some country town in the middle of nowhere."

" And people believed it?" she asked.

He hesitated. "People don't ask questions if you do your job and don't complain. I read a lot, and watched." And tried not to think of home.

Troi looked him over. " You enlisted…. How did you become an officer?"

" They do things differently. They give everyone an intelligence test and if you score a certain way, you're watched through the initial training. I was enlisted for maybe eight months and then got a ticket to the Caprican Officer Academy." Despite himself, he smiled. It had been a surprise, and his marine platoon mates had made a lot of jokes about his being such a country bumpkin that he didn't even know he was going to be an officer. They had been good friends, after all was said and done. Not like Starfleet people, and most of them hadn't been kind at all in basic training, deriding his complete ignorance and shocking, in their opinion, lack of religious schooling, but they had liked him. There had been invites for holidays, and if he had often been teased for not knowing things, there was always someone from Delphi or Caprica City willing to explain. The platoon had been genuinely happy to see him sent to the Academy, and he had kept in touch with a lot of them.

Until the invasion. " They were good people. None of them survived. I checked." It hurt suddenly. It had been a terrible time, those first few months and they had all been genuinely happy for him. It had been a long time since anyone had been genuinely happy for him. It had been a long time since he had been happy.

" You haven't looked up any of your friends, have you?" Troi asked.

" I thought I wasn't being watched, that the computer wasn't tracking what I was doing." It was maddening how angry it made him, that was the truth. He couldn't go anywhere on the ship without someone patting him on the back, verbally or literally. No doubt they were tracking his reading material. Or when he went to bed.

" Someone you went to school with approached me. They were concerned. Because you've been missing for ten years and you've been on board for three days and I know you haven't asked about anyone. You didn't ask about your family. You haven't done anything to start picking up your life. You haven't even asked about your friends in the colonial fleet. It's worrisome." Again she looked at him, like she was looking in his head.

Of course she was. She was from Betazed.

" What life am I supposed to be picking up?" He stood up and paced around the room. "My life is over. I'm going to be court martialed. Prime directive violations aren't winked at." He paused. "I'm guilty. I manipulated the jump coordinates to bring them here. I used their religion to make route decisions that benefited me. I implanted a command in the navigation system to set off explosives in the Galactica's jump drive so I could stop the fleet from running when we detected a Federation vessel. I betrayed my oath."

"None of those things guarantee that you would be found guilty," Troi said after a moment. " There's a lot of mitigating factors. This isn't a black and white situation. I think it's very unlikely that you will receive more than a reprimand."

"Mitigating factors…? I forced a first contact!" He was shouting and suddenly he didn't care that Troi was going to use everything he said. "You know what the worst part is? You think I don't know why the captain took me off the Galactica? My fellow crewmen were going to beat me down or kill me. For lying to them for the last ten years and not giving them all of the weapons they think I was keeping from them. I betrayed them, and it isn't as though this is the only thing people are mad about. I was seconds from being executed for war crimes. I betrayed Starfleet and I betrayed the Colonial Fleet. I have spent so much time and energy blotting out my old life, I couldn't begin to tell you who my friends were, and my friends in the Colonial fleet… They must hate me for not even giving them the tiniest bit of hope over the last four years. I have…." He stopped himself. He had nothing left to look forward to, nothing but anger and jail from the Federation, because he was guilty and the violations weren't minor, and nothing from the colonials. He'd been on borrowed time since New Caprica, and he could only imagine the hate people had towards him. But Troi was from Betazed and she was eying him and he didn't want that either.

" I think you are too overwhelmed by guilt, grief, and anger to understand that you're judging yourself far more harshly than anyone else is." Troi rose and came to his side, touching his shoulder gently with one hand. " You have been trying, since Captain Picard brought you on board, to convince him that you deserve to be treated badly. You're angry because people are nice to you, and not blaming you for what you think you've done. That's self destructive, Felix. I have some other concerns as well… but right now, I'm concerned that you think you deserve to be hurt, and that you might act on that."

" I'm not suicidal," he protested.

" Then I'm overreacting, and your disagreement with my assessment will be recorded." She steered him back to his seat and then went to her desk. After a moment of fumbling she came back, holding a wrist monitor. " This will cause an alarm if you take it off."

He took it angrily and clasped it around his wrist. " Why don't you just put me on twenty four hour watch in the brig?"

" Because I think that would just feed your self destructive beliefs," Troi said. " And Captain Picard has some things he needs you to do."

Chapter Text

"There are any number of odd population issues," Gaeta said nervously. He didn't look uncomfortable speaking, Picard thought, he simply looked awkward. Not surprising, from what Troi had said. Felix Gaeta had spent ten years blending into the woodwork of a completely foreign society. It was obvious from his own observation that the Colonial Fleet was a much more militant organization than Starfleet, and the open discussion of ideas was not as valued.

Of course, it was easy to judge, seeing the end result. Desperate societies couldn't always afford the niceties.

" Define odd if you don't mind, Mr. Gaeta." Riker asked pleasantly. " It'll save us all a little reading." Picard almost smiled. Riker was good with people, and Gaeta's briefing was almost obnoxious thorough. Which said something else about the Colonial military. Namely that following orders was expected, and there were severe consequences if orders weren't followed.

Gaeta looked down at his computer pad. " The population is significantly older. There were only a handful of people who actually got off the ground when the Cylons attacked. The ships that survived the attack were ships in transit, and the people who could afford inter colony travel tended to be middle aged. You'll note that of the 41 thousand people left alive, the population over thirty five years of age is significantly higher than it would be in a normal population. There's another blip in the curve, a smaller one, and that's the military personnel from the Galactica and the Pegasus."

" The Pegasus?" Riker asked.

" The Pegasus was destroyed," Gaeta began.

" And isn't relevant to this briefing," Picard added gently. He had any number of questions concerning the Pegasus but it wasn't the right time. " This is a briefing on the colonial fleet's current composition and the cultural issues. Please continue, Mr. Gaeta."

Gaeta nodded. " All twelve colonies have surviving populations, but there are a lot of cultural differences and resentments. The Sagitarrons by far have the largest number of survivors at over six thousand. The Geminons are close behind, with Capricans third at around forty five hundred. The other nine colonies are split fairly evenly except for the Leonids, who currently only have nine hundred three survivors. This causes a great deal of tension. The Sagiterrons are traditionally at the bottom rung of the social ladder. They're considered backward and they reject some scientific principles. There's a fairly lengthy history of Sagiterron oppression, which only fuels the anger and resentment of the other colonists. It's also not helped that a significant portion, one thousand two hundred thirty eight, are convicted felons. This only adds to the tension, especially considering the lack of a police force. The Geminons lean towards a strict literal interpretation of scripture which often puts them at odds with the President and with other colonists. There's also some resentment directed at Capricans as they tend to be military."

" Which means," Riker said, " They tend to be younger and have skills that are more useful?"

"And are more likely to live on board the Galactica," Gaeta added, " Which is a point of contention. If Sagiterrons were at the bottom of the social ladder, then Capricans were at the top and many in the fleet suspect that Capricans are given better treatment. In some respects this is true. Likewise the criminal element is a problem and each ship perceives itself to be at the end of the supply line. The biggest problems are going to come once the supply issues are controlled. When religious belief hits reality, and when people have more to think about than sheer survival."

Now that, Picard thought, was interesting. Interesting and Gaeta was worth his weight in gold if he could help bring the colonists into the Federation fold. The colonist religion was going to be a sticking point, Picard was already concerned about, and he was surprised that Gaeta had stated it so openly. It suggested the younger man had thought on the subject. He glanced at Troi, who was looking pensive and concerned. I'll ask her opinion later, he thought. He hadn't missed the wrist monitor.

" Expand on that, if you don't mind, Mr. Gaeta," Picard asked after a moment. " We're going to be sending any number of people into these ships. Religion has always been touchy."

" It's going to be bad." Gaeta leaned back in his chair, his expression suddenly tired. "There are so many reasons why this will go bad. These are violent people. They believe Earth is the 13th Colony, that humanity first arose on Kobol and that the gods lived among them until the First Exodus. Considering their scriptures, and considering what I remember from cultural anthropology and evolution, they are not going to like hearing that Kobol was not the home of the gods. Or that humanity evolved on Earth, and their entire culture is likely lifted from ancient Greece and Rome and seeded onto Kobol by aliens. Aliens that may have amused themselves by actually pretending to be gods, if I remember all the stories about Admiral Kirk. Trust me, that isn't going to go over well." Gaeta shoved the data pad away. " Do you have any idea how bizarre things got? The president? Thinks she's a prophet of the gods. The admiral told everyone he knew where Earth was, and that the high command always knew where Earth was. The people still haven't figured out that was a lie. This quest is all the people have had to hold onto and as soon as they get a hold of a basic text on Earth history, they're going to find out their entire belief structure is basically something we tossed aside several thousand years ago as superstitious nonsense."

" To be fair," Picard said after a moment, " Most of western civilization was built on Greco-Roman accomplishments."

Gaeta sighed. " I'm sure that's going to help a lot, sir. To know that Earth went forward while they remained the equivalent of backwoods hicks, who got their civilization destroyed." He looked down at his hands. " I apologize… I'm… a little tired and…." His voice trailed off.

" You're excused, Mr. Gaeta. I believe you have an appointment in sick bay." Picard waited until the man left to continue. " It may have been curtly stated, but Lt. Cmdr. Gaeta has a good point. We will need to tread very carefully with these people."

" Is he all right?" Riker asked.

" No…" Troi said. " But he has a valid concern. These people are in danger of suffering a severe blow. They've already seen their worlds destroyed and their religion is going to be somewhat discredited no matter how gently we present this."

"Like the Inuit." Riker said. " We do need to be careful. Is Mr. Gaeta going to be able to give us more information or is this a bad sign?"

Troi shrugged. " He didn't confess to violating the prime directive during the briefing. That's… encouraging." She looked at Picard. " He does believe he'll be found guilty and given a severe sentence. If that's not going to be your recommendation, you should let me know. He's overwhelmed with guilt and if he believes he won't be punished, he'll become actively suicidal. If he's not already."

Awkward, Picard thought, because so far there was no real proof of Felix's Gaeta's guilt. The man could confess all he wanted, but the situation simply didn't rise to a severe infraction. The Colonists were human, and they had developed their own FTL drive that was so different, it didn't even register on the Enterprise's powerful scanners. Gaeta was insisting that he had manipulated the fleet's route, but that would be difficult to confirm. The colonials were religious and the route to Earth had apparently been ordained by a series of signposts. The Preservers, perhaps a remnant of survivors from the Prollux system… and Gaeta was right. The Colonists were not going to handle that news well.

" We don't have any hard evidence," he said finally. " I intend to investigate his claims fully but it is somewhat difficult." He looked at Troi. " What would you call his mental state?"

"Severe clinical depression," Troi said quickly. " Torn by his loyalties to us, and to the people he's lived with. He's angry that he was left in the Beta Quadrant. He hasn't said it, he hasn't needed to."

" I can't say I don't understand," Riker said slowly.

" You're thinking of Tom," Troi said, " but it's only a superficial comparison. Lt. Cmdr. Gaeta was left alone and forced to become a much different person. He had to interact with these people and make them believe he was one of them. That's much more difficult. I suspect he may have genuinely started to believe his story. It's easier… Especially for someone who is described by Academy classmates as naively honest."

" So he forgot? That he was from Earth?" Riker whistled in disbelief but Picard found himself nodding along as the room fell silent. He doubted that Gaeta ever really forgot his origins so much as he tried to forget. The colonials were nowhere near as advanced, and a one man trip in one of their ships would have been impossible.

"He was very careful to not give away details of their jump drive," Troi said, " but he has implied in several conversations that it isn't refined enough for lengthy journeys in small ships. If he stole a ship, he wouldn't have gotten far, and he could have spent his life attempting to refine the system and still not get home. He had no hope of ever returning. It was less painful, to suppress it, and be one of them. But now… he has to deal with the fact that his old life is still his. He has to deal with the fact that he lied, for a long time, to people that he does care about."

" And they are very angry," Riker said, " With him. And in general, from what I've seen. They are an angry group of people, and a bit xenophobic. We'll need to start combating that. Start small… maybe some of the Vulcan crew people?"

" We need more information," Troi said to Picard. " I want more details on the attempted murder and the conviction for war crimes."

He looked at her, considering that new tidbit. " That is concerning," he said finally.

" On many levels," Deanna leaned back in her chair. " I don't believe that Lt. Cmdr. Gaeta would be alive if the colonials thought he was guilty of war crimes. President Roslin doesn't seem to… flinch at the idea of executions. At the same time, he's hard to read but… I don't think he's lying. I do think he has some severe issues with guilt and with control, and he's had at least one psychotic break. I'd like to know why."

" We need to know these people better," Picard said. " I have an idea."

Chapter Text

" It's totally shot," Chief Tyrol said tiredly as he gestured to the computer bank. " The wiring all needs to be replaced. Just doing that is going to take days. The energy surge fried everything. I have no idea what's going on inside the computer. Every time I run a diagnostic, it frakking shuts down. If I run the crews nonstop for the next two weeks, we might be able to get the jump engines up, but that means nothing if the computer won't turn on." He looked at the two officers with tired eyes. " And you know the crew doesn't want to work nonstop these days."

Lee Adama patted the man on the back. "Keep us updated. I've got plenty of pilots who aren't flying patrols to help out. The admiral is not happy that the ship can't jump."

" Then he shouldn't have let Gaeta's pals take the bastard to their ship." Kara muttered beside him.

" Kara…." Lee warned. He understood the sentiment, but there was a point where it grated. It also did no good. " What's done is done."

Kara rolled her eyes. " Chief, how frakking hard is it to program the computer to overload the jump drive and blow it out?"

Tyrol looked at the dark computer bank. " I don't really know… I don't fix the computers… But…" He hesitated. " If this had happened after a Cylon attack, we would all be dead. If, by the grace of the gods, we hadn't all been killed, we'd be looking for the saboteur. The maintenance down here has been spot on so I don't know how the engines could have just overloaded. Without help."

"And who was in charge of the FTL computer?" Kara asked, her tone sarcastic. " I mean , before we discovered the truth that someone hid for years?"

Lee frowned. " I get your point, Starbuck." She wasn't the only one to make that point, although a lot of the complainers had shut up pretty quickly once the Enterprise had started shuttling over supplies. They were just happy to be eating fresh bread and fruit.

They didn't think about the bigger questions, but Lee had. The Enterprise was not, by their standards, a large ship, and they were running shuttles full of food over like clockwork. The ship captain, Picard, said the Enterprise was a long term exploration ship, but they were carrying a huge amount of food and medicine. They were either being more generous than they could really afford, or the Starfleet ship had a much different method of storing food. Which meant they were significantly more advanced

And they were sharp. He hadn't been able to really talk with any of the Starfleet people, but what he had seen was impressive. All of them, even the enlisted people who unloaded the shuttlecrafts, were observing everything and filing it all away for later analysis. They were taking in everything that they saw, and Lee suspected that they weren't missing much. Much the way Felix Gaeta hadn't missed much.

That, in itself, said something very interesting about the people from Starfleet. Namely, that they valued different things. They didn't seem very military either, for all that they used ranks. Not that he had seen them do much more than pleasantly observe things on the Galactica.

Talk like Kara's had to stop though. It wasn't helping anything. All her bitching did was rile up the element on board that was already pissed off about everything, and Lee suspected that calling for Felix Gaeta's head was a really good way to tick off the Starfleet people. It helped that he personally didn't dislike the man.

Kara on the other hand, didn't seem concerned about perceptions. " You get my point? What? Has the wife told you to defend her best pal the liar, Lee?"

Lee felt his anger rise. " What Dee says? Is none of your business." Dee hadn't said much on the topic, but he knew she was upset. Gaeta was her friend, one of her best friends, and he had been spirited off to the Enterprise without even a chance to say good bye to anyone. " In case you missed it, Kara, we're supposed to be happy. We found Earth, and the thirteenth tribe seems pretty nice, and more importantly, they seem pretty able to defend us, and themselves. So Gaeta frakking lied… so what?"

Kara glared. " You're not the slightest bit mad that he knew Earth was real? That he's known all along and didn't say a gods damned word? Have you thought about that, Lee? That he didn't say a word when we settled on New Caprica?"

Of course, Lee thought tiredly, it was wrapped up in New Caprica. " Would you have believed him?" That was the question that had forced his own angry thoughts to subside. He wouldn't have believed Gaeta. There was nothing Felix Gaeta could have said that would have convinced him. Even a display of higher technology would have made him think that Gaeta was brilliant but nuts. And he wasn't so certain that Gaeta had done nothing to help them. The man had plotted their jumps for years. Gaeta had been the one to use the star chart from Kobol to find the path.

" Believing him isn't the point, Lee. He never gave us the chance to believe him." Kara slapped the computer bank with an open hand. " Stop and think about it. This isn't a malfunction. Gaeta did something to the FTL computer that blew out the engine. He planned it, Lee."

" What if he did?" Tyrol asked suddenly. He fumbled with the tools he was holding. " So he planned it. He planned to stop the Galactica from jumping away from help. No one got hurt. As for New Caprica…" and Lee was surprised at just how intent Tyrol became, " I don't recall Lt. Gaeta having a lot of fun there. In fact, I think things were pretty ugly for him. I know things were pretty ugly for him, and I think, if you think hard about it, Kara, you'll remember why." Tyrol began to pack up his tools. " So he's from Earth, and he didn't tell anyone. I don't know that I blame him. The Cylons would have tortured him for Earth's location… and I think we both know how we rewarded Gaeta for helping the resistance." Tyrol laughed harshly. " I'm just surprised he didn't steal a Raptor as soon as he knew he was close and leave us to rot."

Tyrol walked off down the corridor, leaving Kara and Lee alone.

" I was in hell on New Caprica," Kara hissed. " I'm not forgetting that."

"No one is asking you to," Lee said after a moment. " But you're a senior officer, and so am I and we need to get the FTL drive fixed. That means we either do it ourselves, or we convince the Starfleet captain that we won't let the crew murder Gaeta." He struggled to put what he was thinking into words. " The war is over, Kara."

She looked at him. " Yeah, Lee, the war is over. And now what? What's going to happen now? There's what, forty one thousand of us, against more of them than we even know, What are we going to be now? Just the poor cousins of Earth who got their own planets blown to hell? Do you think they need viper pilots? They don't need us at all, and you can bet that if Roslin doesn't give them the FTL drive soon, they'll take it."

" Earth isn't the enemy." Lee said. He had heard inklings of her argument before, from other people, and he was beginning to think it might pose a serious problem. He didn't really understand it. Lately all he had been able to think about was all the possibilities that had returned, that he wasn't going to spend his entire life as CAG of the Galactica. It hadn't occurred to him that some people would feel threatened by finding out that Earth was real and very advanced.

" Yeah, well, maybe you want to consider what kind of people they are, if their biggest rule is that they can't share their tech." Kara brushed past him and stomped off.

Which left Lee alone by the FTL computer banks with more problems than he had ever thought possible. Despite his protests, he agreed with Kara on one point. The energy pulse that had ruined the FTL computer felt like sabotage, and Felix Gaeta was the only person he knew on the Galactica that had the skill to accomplish it. He was also the only one who could fix it, if Tyrol wasn't exaggerating. The Admiral was not going to be happy.

And Kara had vocalized a worry that he hadn't been able to pin down when he saw the anxiety filled expressions of his fellow soldiers. People were relieved, but some people were also terrified about what was coming next.

Chapter Text

Bill Adama looked at the report that Lee had prepared and sighed. He had suspected as much but having it confirmed just made it that much more critical to get Felix Gaeta back on board. If just to fix the damage. Roslin had been right to override him when they had made contact with the Starfleet ship, but he suspected she was starting to realize what an untenable position they were in. The Galactica couldn't jump. He doubted that the Enterprise was going to suddenly turn on them, but until he knew the FTL engines were able to be used, he wasn't going to be comfortable.

With time to think about it, what Gaeta had done made perfect sense. The man had been almost as twitchy as Dr. Baltar had been, in the last two or three months, insisting his route was right. He had to have known that they were getting close, and he had made sure that the fleet would stop. It was coldly efficient, a trait Bill hadn't much liked in Gaeta when he'd first received the officer in his crew but one he had come to value as the flight from the Cylons had worn on.

That didn't make the current situation any easier. They weren't negotiating from a position of strength. The Cylons were still out there, although it had been over three months since their last attack. The Federation was a giant unknown. And yet… He didn't sense any malice in Picard.

That didn't mean he trusted Jean-Luc Picard. Far from it. The Starfleet captain had neatly accomplished a major intelligence coup in asking for Felix Gaeta. Gaeta might not be spilling the secrets of the FTL drive, but he was certainly giving ringside details of the civilian government and the military, and that was valuable.

He looked up as the hatch door to his quarters opened. Saul Tigh stepped in, his face dark and pensive. " You got the report?" Tigh asked. " I haven't had a chance."

" It's interesting reading." Adama said. He had intentionally asked Lee to bring the report directly to him. It wasn't just a military concern, it was political. As angry as it made him to know that the ship had been sabotaged, the situation demanded that he control his feelings. If Gaeta had intentionally damaged the jump drive, Adama suspected that he hadn't planned on being summarily yanked away. Knowing Gaeta, that meant that whatever he had done would be relatively easy to fix. The problem was that it would probably take Gaeta to fix it.

And there was bad blood between Saul Tigh and Felix Gaeta. Something to do with New Caprica, Adama wasn't sure what exactly, except that Gaeta hadn't told Saul, or anyone, that he had been supplying the Resistance with badly needed intelligence. That had led to the ugly scene in the CIC, although days later Tigh had made a point of publicly describing what Gaeta had done in the officer's mess and vouching for the man. A good thing too, considering how many people in Baltar's government ended up dead. But there had been that ugliness, and he was fairly certain that Gaeta didn't feel overwhelmed with gratitude to Tigh.

But he had been wrong before. He had never suspected that idealistic, naïve Felix Gaeta was anything other than the kid from the backwoods of Northern Caprica who just happened to be bright as hell with math. And…

" What?" Tigh asked as he stepped over to the desk. " You're thinking something. Something good I hope."

Adama shrugged. "Nothing important." Along with lying about his past, it had suddenly occurred to Bill that Gaeta had to be a good four or five years older than twenty seven. Picard had already been hinting about child labour and no doubt had seen some of the kids who were blatantly lying in order to have work on the Galactica. Adama wasn't thrilled about it either, and would be glad to stop it once things stabilized, but it gave hints just the same. According to their records, Gaeta had joined the marines at seventeen, and had been nominated for the Caprican Military Academy due to his ability. But according to Picard, Gaeta had graduated from their officer academy and was on his first assignment when "lost", and it seemed unlikely that Gaeta had been seventeen at the time. On the other hand, being a innocent kid from a deeply rural community played better in the fleet marines, and Gaeta had the boyish looks to make it work. The marines had always liked to turn naïve farmer kids into officers. It appealed to their working class rural sensibilities. He had reread Gaeta's file out of curiosity and it was as anonymous as he remembered.

More than he wanted to admit, he had a building admiration for the man. He was still angry with Lt. Felix Gaeta, but there was more steel in the younger man than he had suspected. He had only seen an inkling of the Federation, and it was impressive. Lee had noticed the same thing he had, that the Enterprise was either being incredibly generous or else they had a much different method of storage. There were other tantalizing hints that Starfleet and the Federation were much more advanced. References that the Starfleet people made to each other when bringing supplies that it would be faster and more efficient to just "transport" the supplies had been reported. That was interesting. That meant Gaeta had kept his secret while under incredible pressure. It wasn't as though the deck officers hadn't been starving like everyone else.

" When is President Roslin arriving?" he asked.

" Her shuttle landed a few minutes ago." Tigh said. " And our guests from the Enterprise should be arriving shortly after. What's on the agenda?"

" They were conferring with Starfleet Command and the Federation Council to see what sort of offers they wanted to put on the table. This meeting should involve some preliminary offer." And he had every intention of demanding that Gaeta be carted over to fix the FTL drive. The crew wasn't that hostile. If he had to personally escort Felix Gaeta to and from the Federation shuttle, he would. Fortunately, he could use Lee or the Agathons for that purpose if necessary.

After a few moments, Roslin entered. It was a surprise that she was alone. Normally she had Tory Foster in tow, and if not Tory, then one of the other, less experienced aides. She was also dressed in one of her sharpest outfits, the one she had worn to the decommissioning four years earlier. She looked dignified, if slightly threadbare. He almost nodded in agreement at her outfit. There was no point in putting on airs, and searching the fleet for someone's horded wardrobe. Her jacket and pantsuit was perfectly serviceable, in very good shape by fleet standards, and the Starfleet could simply deal with it.

She smiled at both him and Tigh and took a seat. " I see I'm not late. You'll be pleased to know that the civilian ships are reporting no problems with food distribution. There's still grumbling but I think airing the supply schedule on the wireless has helped. Any word on the jump drive?"

"Nothing new." He said it easily, but her question surprised him. He knew Laura, knew well enough to know that she rarely concerned herself with things that were his concern. She was smart, but she had never warmed to technical issues.

She smiled and set her bag down. She carefully removed an amber colored bottle and handed it to Saul. Saul almost whistled in appreciation as he looked over the bottle. " Where did you get a bottle of Caprican Emerald Rose Ambrosia?"

" Found it under Dr. Baltar's bed when we were cleaning out all of his accumulated trash." Roslin smiled slightly. " I though perhaps we should at least attempt to offer some hospitality. Considering that everyone's last meal was probably from food brought from the Enterprise. Even the Galactica crew has had some supplies, correct?"

"We haven't," Tigh said, " Enlisted people are getting the first crack, but hopefully there'll be a few scraps left for the command staff."

" It's best for morale." Adama added. The fleet had gone without for too long and the meager resources had always gone to the Galactica first. It was time to give the civilians the break they so richly deserved.

"And who do we have escorting our Starfleet guests today?" Roslin asked. He caught the warning tone in her voice.

" Captain Agathon." Helo was able to keep his mouth shut over the things that irritated him, at least for the duration of an escort, and he was handsome in a rawboned way. It was a petty thing, but it certainly didn't hurt to use attractive officers as escorts. He would have used Lee except for the ugly implications of nepotism. That was the last thing he wanted the Starfleet people to think and it meant keeping Lee away from things when he normally would have relied on Lee.

Lee for example, would not have mouthed off in a meeting about how much Felix Gaeta pissed him off. Kara's little outburst had guaranteed that Gaeta would be staying on the Enterprise until further notice.

Sure enough, within minutes, Helo had Picard and one of the man's officers, Cmdr. Troi, an attractive junoesque woman. That was new, but then Adama assumed that the man's XO Riker was perhaps minding the ship instead of attending meetings. Troi had come to the Galactica with the initial contact, and seemed to act as a sort of aide, if a highly ranked aide. The Starfleet rank structure seemed odd to his tastes anyway.

Picard seemed jovial enough, although Adama didn't let that fool him, not one bit. Jean-Luc Picard struck him as an extremely clever man, not one prone to rushing or making quick judgments, but also a man who would do everything needed to accomplish a task. The FTL drive was a bargaining chip, and a big one, but he didn't believe it was a perfect bargaining chip. Starfleet, and by reasoning, the Federation, was a resource rich society. They wanted the FTL drive, and their morality told them to bargain with poor cousins rather than out right steal. At the same time, they weren't going to roll over for the poor cousins.

The real problem was knowing whether their offer was a fair one or not. Or if asking for certain things would be considered out of line or worse, taboo in some fashion. Gaeta had never hinted at being offended by any aspect of colonial society, but looking back, Adama could see a certain trend. Gaeta hadn't been religious in the slightest, although he paid a certain political lip service to the crew that was religious. That wasn't unusual, except that Gaeta had always seemed a little too disconnected from his supposed country roots. Gaeta also tended to be squeamish about violence, and overly neat and modest.

It wasn't much to go on.

Picard held out one of the sleek computer pads that all of the Starfleet people seemed to carry. " The Federation of Planets wants to offer any assistance it can to the people of the Twelve Colonies. That's a humanitarian offer without any obligation. That means more assistance with food supplies and medical care. You've been granted preliminary refugee status, as opposed to potential applicant status. That concession is because you are human." Picard hesitated. " The Federation has a deep interest in certain technologies that you can offer, but it is my duty and honor to assure you that this offer of aid is without any strings attached. The Federation offers it's sympathies at the misfortune your people have suffered and offers this aid as a gesture of good will. It is not to be repaid."

"No obligation?" Laura asked. " That's…. extremely generous."

" Thank the Earth and Vulcan Ambassadors," Picard said easily, " and the Bajoran and Andorian Ambassadors as well. All argued on your behalf that humanitarian aid should be offered without demanding obligation. Frankly it helps that you are human and have attained faster than light travel along a non traditional path, but even if you hadn't, a place would have been found for you."

Faster than light travel seemed like an awkward phrase to Picard, Adama noted. They probably used a different term and it was unstated that having some sort of faster than light drive was very important. The display that the squad of Raptors had put on, against his better judgment, had been a good idea after all.

Laura took the computer pad, and didn't look at it. " It goes without saying that we appreciate the Federation's generosity with aid. I must extend our thanks. Even just the supplies your ship has provided has increased the morale of the people." She said it, Adama realized, with just the right amount of pride. They were desperate for help, after all, desperate enough that any help wouldn't be refused, but her tone made it clear that while no obligation was assumed, the colonies would make a point of keeping track and giving restitution.

Picard nodded acknowledgement. " The Federation is willing to negotiate the option of full membership in exchange for the details on the FTL drive. We are currently empowered to offer provisional membership in the Federation and we can begin negotiations for full membership."

Laura smiled. Bill almost smiled at her expression but choked it back. She was much better at the political games than he was.

" Of course we appreciate the offer, " Roslin said pleasantly, " but the reality is that we have no idea what constitutes a reasonable offer from the Federation. Which leads me to my small request. You do understand that Mr. Gaeta has been a presidential aide for over two and a half years. It's rather unfair of you to strip me of a valued resource right when I need him the most. And I am not unaware of how valuable he must be to the Federation, as these negotiations are concerned. It's unfair, I think you'll agree, that you have a source of cultural insight to make your offers, and we have nothing at all to judge your offers."

Picard tensed slightly. Adama mentally nodded. The man did understand that taking Gaeta had given him a distinct advantage. The interesting question was how he handled it.

" What do you propose to alleviate this… advantage?" Picard asked, his tone pleasant.

" For a variety of reasons, we would like some access to Lt. Gaeta." Roslin said. She carefully opened the bottle of ambrosia and poured Picard a glass. " The Galactica has valued Lt. Gaeta's efforts in maintaining the FTL drive, and you are certainly aware of our difficulties in getting the current damage repaired. Frankly we need his assistance. More importantly, I am sure he is sharing intimate knowledge of our culture and it's only fair that we have access to a similar resource." Roslin poured herself a drink and then sipped it. " I'd like to see Mr. Gaeta. For an exchange of information. Nothing technical of course, although I believe Admiral Adama wouldn't mind if Lt. Gaeta was allowed to examine the problem with the Galactica's engines."

Picard sipped his drink as well. " I'm not adverse to that, but I do have some concerns. Safety concerns. Lieutenant Commander Gaeta," and Adama understood that Picard was attempting to make a point about rank when he spoke, " is a Starfleet officer, and I have concerns about his safety here. I don't say that to be unkind, I am stating the obvious." Picard looked at Troi and then continued. " To be blunt, I'm worried someone might kill him out of spite. We also have some… legal concerns."

" Legal concerns?" Adama asked. " Is this about the incident with Dr. Baltar?" It figured, Bill thought tiredly. It wasn't exactly a shining moment for the fleet, using Gaeta to crack Baltar, although it did make more sense now that Gaeta had flipped out so badly at Baltar's comments. " That incident was my responsibility and Mr. Gaeta's actions were ultimately deemed self defense. Dr. Baltar did physically assault," if grabbing Gaeta by the hair and whispering was considered assault but Bill wasn't going there, " Mr. Gaeta first, and it could have easily turned into a hostage situation if Mr. Gaeta hadn't defended himself."

And let's hope, Bill thought tiredly, that all the tranquilizers they had filled Gaeta with for a week afterward had sufficiently garbled the man's memory of the incident.

" While I have concerns about that incident," Troi said, her tone one of concern, " especially since Mr. Gaeta has a much less generous interpretation of his actions, that's not what we're referring to. Are there pending charges against him? For crimes against humanity? Or was there a conviction, with some sort of stay of execution?" Troi was hesitant. " You understand, it's not our place to override your laws, but…" Her voice trailed off. " Was he telling the truth? I can tell by your expression, Admiral Adama, that this is the first time you've heard of this."

Adama gritted his teeth. It was the first time he'd heard it, at least concerning Felix Gaeta. " Lt. Gaeta has never been convicted of a crime. However, there were some ugly rumors, concerning vigilantes and the previous civilian administration. Mr. Gaeta was a presidential aide to Dr. Baltar during his administration and I imagine there were people who misunderstood some of his actions. However during the Cylon occupation of New Caprica, Lt. Gaeta was essential in providing intelligence that led to our escape, and after his role was commonly known, he hasn't had any problems with the crew."

" So he wasn't almost executed in an airlock?" Troi asked.

" It was a misunderstanding…." Tigh said quietly. Everyone turned to look at him, and Bill was thankful that the man had the good grace to at least look shamed. " There was a conviction for war crimes, and there nearly was an execution… in the airlock, but fortunately there was some last minute testimony that cleared Lt. Gaeta of any wrongdoing on New Caprica." He looked nervously at Adama.

Wonderful, Bill thought tiredly, this is going to help so much. It was all he could do to not punch Saul Tigh in the face. Laura looked equally appalled, and he knew the situation had to be salvaged. Finally he said, " I think the important point here, is that we aren't asking for Lt. Gaeta to come here so we can execute him for war crimes."

Picard nodded, his expression sympathetic. " I have a proposal. We traditionally have officer exchanges with new allies. I wanted to extend that invitation, to allow a few of your officers to come over to my ship and see how we do things, and possibly have a few of my officers stay on board the Galactica for a few days. So everyone can get to know each other better. And if that goes well, then perhaps we can compromise on access to Lt. Cmdr. Gaeta."

" Well, why not make this easy?" Laura said, her eyes sparkling. " We're obviously stuck here for a while and it's definitely a good idea for everyone to get to know each other. I'd like to go a little further. I have… an interest in seeing your ship, Captain Picard. It's been a long time since I have toured a ship that wasn't in this particular fleet and I think our people would feel much better knowing that the President of the Colonies had safely spent a few hours on your ship without being ravaged or killed. We could bring some officers for the exchange, and I assure you that I have no intention of attempting to murder Mr. Gaeta, so perhaps I could have a little bit of time to confer with him on this offer?"

It was all so sweetly done, Bill marveled at her skill. Picard nodded easily. " I would be honored to show you my ship, Madame President. I assume you would like some time to first look over the offer, and to choose some officers for the exchange." To Adama he added, " I'm under the impression you're short handed so it need not be an equal exchange. I was planning to allow most of the medical staff to stay here to assist anyway, and I can easily spare a number of the command staff but don't feel obligated to match numbers."

Adama waited until Picard and Troi had left to turn to Tigh. " I trust, Colonel, that we have a few officers on board who haven't tried to murder Lt. Gaeta?" Suddenly so much of the odd hostility between Tigh and Gaeta made sense. What else, Adama thought tiredly, have I missed? " Tell Maj. Adama, Cpt. Agathon, and Lt. Dualla that they'll be going on a field trip and to pack accordingly. The rest of this we'll discuss later."

" There's not anything to discuss, Bill." Laura said as Tigh left the room. " The pardon I issued includes the members of the Circle."

" That's not important. Are you sure you want to do this? Go aboard their ship?" He didn't like it, but he understood why she had made the offer. It was clear that the Starfleet captain wasn't going to allow Gaeta on board the Galactica without major assurances that there would be no violence. They needed to have some idea if they were being given a fair offer and if this was the only way, he would have to allow it. " And… since when was Lt. Gaeta your presidential aide?"

That was new, after all.

" He never actually resigned." Laura said. He waited, and finally she said, " Bill, when this is all done, and we're holding onto a signed treaty with these people and a new home to settle, I will tell you everything I knew. Until then, you have to trust me."

Chapter Text

It was too quiet. His quarters, his private little apartment that had an actual living room and a bedroom, and even a private bathroom, was quiet and it was driving him crazy. Felix got out of bed and looked at the clock. It was the middle of his sleep shift and he was wide awake. His bed was soft and comfortable, covered with fresh sheets that were new, and for the first time in years he had room to stretch out, and he couldn't sleep. He wasn't tired, not in the slightest. Sleeping for eight hours… There hadn't been time for that on New Caprica, before the occupation, and even before the holocaust, eight hours was a rare treat.

People on the Enterprise apologized if work ran long. A ten hour day was a long day.

He just couldn't sleep. He hadn't been able to sleep in a while, not well anyway. He had bad dreams, about New Caprica and the things that he had seen there, and about the fleet. Worse, there was no one to share his sleeplessness with. On the Galactica, even at the worst times, he could have gotten up and found some work to do. And things had been getting better. He had friends who would play cards or drink. Connors, who had tried to kill him not so long ago, would spot him for drinks free of charge, with a wink and a nod that was more apology than he had gotten from some. He could go prowling for books, or magazines to read, or even just find someone to frak. But half the fun was the time it took.

If he really wanted, the replicator would make a nice approximation of scotch, and scotch was fairly similar to ambrosia. He could even dial up a reading choice and have the replicator make a book. Or he could stop being so quaint and just use a padd, the way he used to. As a kid. On Earth.

It was surprising how quickly the habits of old did and didn't return. He could still key notes into a padd with surprising speed. It was almost with childish delight that he used one the last few days. It was one of the first things a child learned, how to research with a padd that connected to the over all net of computer information. And he had always had access to an adult padd. His father had been a firm believer that if a child was old enough to ask an adult question, then they were old enough to know the answer. The second he was handed a computer padd, it was like coming home.

But as he fumbled in the dark for a light switch that wasn't there, it took a few minutes for it to register that all he had to do was say " Computer, lights on"

The room lit up. " It is two hours before your requested waking signal. Is everything all right?" The computer's voice was female and deadpan and his skin broke out in gooseflesh. It sounded like Caprica Six. Enough like her that for a moment it was all that he could do to not look for an alcove to hide in. Just the computer, he told himself, and the weirder you act, the more likely it is that… He stopped himself.

He was in the Federation now. Having post traumatic stress disorder was one of many excuses he had, that he could use. The doctor who had examined him had already harped on it, that he was exhibiting classic symptoms, along with the physical signs of severe stress and nutritional deprivation. She had wanted to keep him in sick bay, but he had won that argument. He suspected she simply had bigger fish to fry.

"Is everything all right?" The computer chimed.

" Yes!" he snarled. He paced around the bed and then gave up. He was up and there was no going back to bed. He looked in his closet and pulled out a uniform. There were plenty of uniforms. He had to admit the sleek black uniforms with assignment color on the shoulders and collars similar to the Colonial Fleet uniforms looked, and were a lot more comfortable than the old ones. It was difficult to not look fat in skintight fabric. He hadn't bothered with civilian clothes, and the only other thing he had to wear was his Colonial Fleet uniform.

Wearing that would be a great way to impress Counselor Troi with his sanity.

I can get dressed, he decided, and find something to do. There had to be something to do. The Galaxy class ships hadn't been more than announced when he had been assigned to the Zhukov for his first ship tour. Which was something else that felt so far away, he couldn't even grasp it.

~*~

It was awkward, Lt. Reginald Barclay thought as he walked down the hallway. It was always awkward, he was always awkward with new situations. He was shy, and maybe a little neurotic and he had never really been good with people. At the same time, Counselor Troi had said it was all right, that it might even be just what Felix Gaeta needed, to see an old friend.

And Felix had been his friend. They had met in the Academy, and Felix had always been nice about his stammer and his shyness. They had celebrated holidays at Felix's home since his family lived on Earth. It had been great knowing that Felix was being assigned to the Zhukov with him. And then Felix had gone missing, and while everyone had talked about how the Beta Quadrant wasn't that bad… Everyone knew that being put on the missing rolls was just a nice way of saying that Felix Gaeta had died. So he had written a nice letter to Felix's parents, and tried to get over it by working hard.

Now he was standing outside the door to Felix's quarters trying to figure out the best thing to say. Hi, glad you're not dead, how are you just seemed… trite. After all, by all reports, the people in the Colonial fleet had been through sheer hell. He had asked one of the medical staff about conditions in the fleet, Alyssa Ogawa, who had gone over for medical relief and she had shuddered and told him that it was bad, worse than anything she had seen. To be fair, she had also said that it was obvious how hard the people had worked to keep as many people alive as they could, but he couldn't forget that first shudder.

He wondered if he could have stood it, trapped with complete strangers for years, strangers that had a code of conduct more akin to Klingons than humans. After a moment of consideration, he shuddered. No, he wouldn't have lasted ten years. But… he wasn't surprised Felix had. Felix was clever and he had always been much better with people than he had been. If things had been different, Felix would have certainly been recommended for the command track. He was too good with people for Starfleet to allow him to stay tracked in Engineering and Sciences for long.

But… Barclay didn't like bothering people, and he certainly wasn't good with people. Felix hadn't looked him up, and Troi could say that it didn't matter all she wanted, it meant something. He had a hard time with seeing his own family after the comparatively short absences, and while he thought Felix was much more social than he was, Felix's family was a bit… smothering. So maybe it was a good thing to leave him alone but it didn't feel right. Maybe Felix wanted someone to say hello and be friendly, and Reg knew from his own checking that there was no one else on the Enterprise that had served with Felix.

There weren't really that many left from their class or from the Zhukov. Wolf 359 and the Borg hadn't been kind to Starfleet, that was the truth.

Still, it was starting to look weird, standing in the corridor. Either knock on the door, he told himself, or let it go until later. As he raised his hand to request entry, the door slid open, revealing Gaeta, who jumped.

" What?" Gaeta said. Then he blinked in surprise. " Reg? Reggie Barclay? You… lost your hair. I didn't… I saw you… I'm sorry, I didn't recognize you." Gaeta put a hand to his head as if staving off a headache. " I'm sorry, Reg. I'm being so rude… I just… couldn't sleep and you surprised me."

Barclay felt himself flush. At the same time, it wasn't as though it wasn't true. He had been losing hair even in his teens. And Felix not only looked embarrassed, he looked sick. There were dark circles under the man's eyes, and he looked… beaten down by despair. Barclay had heard the rumors, and Prime Directive violations weren't to be shrugged off, but Felix looked sick with worry. He needs someone to be a friend, Barclay decided, and it wasn't as though he didn't owe Felix a few favors from school.

He rubbed his hair and smiled. " I kept more hair than my dad did. And you… finally look like you're old enough to buy drinks." Which had been the running joke with all of their friends, that Felix had never looked old to be in the Academy, let alone old enough to buy drinks at the many bars in San Francisco.

For a long moment Gaeta didn't react, and then he smiled slightly. " It's really been a while since someone said that to me, Reg." He stepped into the corridor. " I couldn't sleep… I was going to see if there was something to do. Would you want to… get something to eat?"

Barclay nodded. He certainly wasn't a judge of people, in fact the main reason he liked engineering so much was because he didn't handle people well, but he had a feeling that it had been a long time since anyone had been nice to Felix. " We can go to Ten Forward."

~*~

He had no idea that Reg Barclay had meant going to the ship's main social area. Ten Forward was a cheerful bar/restaurant/gathering area and it was pretty full. Of course, the ship ran a 24 hour schedule and he was on first shift, which didn't start for hours, but it still surprised him how busy the place was. Reg quickly got them a table and in seconds they were sitting by one of the windows.

It just… was overwhelming. Seeing people sitting around, playing cards or chitchatting over drinks. They didn't look angry or sullen, or exhausted. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen people hanging around in a happy way. And they were happy. It was light duty, he thought suddenly, good duty for a Starfleet vessel. Helping refugees was a lot easier than patrolling the Neutral Zone, and he doubted that the Enterprise had light duty very often.

And Reggie Barclay was a surprise too. He had always liked Barclay, even if Barclay had been a bumbling mess at times. Barclay was brilliant and it was no surprise that he had ended up on the flagship of the fleet, but he was different. Still shy and nervous but more confident. The Barclay he had known would have been stammering over what table to pick, and wouldn't have chosen such a busy place to begin with. But he had, and enough people had come up to say hello that it was clear that Barclay was well liked and had a large circle of friends.

Which was completely different.

" You look good," he said finally. " I mean… look at you, you're a lieutenant on the Enterprise."

Barclay shrugged. " It wasn't really easy at first but….I like it here. It'll be hard to leave." He hesitated. " Have you seen a doctor, Felix?" Barclay twitched in that way he had. " You look really ill… I mean…"

" I saw the doctor, Dr. Crusher," and it did feel good to know someone was concerned and not just because he was important to the negotiations. Really good. " There's been a lot of stress…" He laughed suddenly. It was just so ridiculous. " Reg, you know this is the first time I've been in a place resembling a restaurant where I wasn't worried even a little about being stabbed or beaten up or shot in almost five years?" He laughed again. "And I'm going to get something to eat that's going to taste good, and not like seaweed or wood pulp based ration bars. I'm surprised there haven't been food riots in the fleet."

" The colonial government sends marine troops with the shipments," Barclay said after a moment.

"You know, I was a colonial marine." Gaeta said. In the last few days, he had been oddly reminiscent about that time of his life. He wasn't sure why. It hadn't been particularly exciting, just a lot of getting screamed at, but he supposed it was where he had decided to accept his fate. " I'm sorry… I'm clinically depressed. Counselor Troi is making me a wrist monitor. I'm not good company."

"I noticed it," Barclay said after a moment. " I thought… Counselor Troi can be over cautious. You know… I was thinking, when I was deciding whether to knock on your door… I can't imagine what it must have been like. Or… how hard it must be to be here now, after ten years…Even if everything had been nice, and I know it wasn't, still…"

" I think," Gaeta said after a long moment, "that it's not a fair comparison." God knows the last thing he wanted was to make anyone feel bad. Especially Reggie, who was trying. " So what is the house special here?" A thought occurred to him. A pleasant thought. " Do you remember that time we went to Seattle and we went to all those coffee places?"

"And we didn't sleep for a week? I think Boothby had to talk you out of the gardening shack." Barclay smiled. " I think they banned that stuff… coffee beans soaked in Romulan Ale. I thought I'd never sleep again… Until we crashed… Boothby was really good about that."

" Yeah… is he still… you know…" Gaeta wasn't sure how to put it.

" The gardens at Starfleet Academy have never looked better." Barclay said after a moment. " He liked Captain Picard, you know."

" You don't become the captain of the Enterprise by being a bad cadet," Gaeta said with a smile. It had been so long since he had been able to share a moment from his past. For just a moment he felt himself relax.

" May I take your orders?" Gaeta felt himself tense as he looked at the waiter. He knew who it was, he'd been introduced, but… it was hard to just throw all caution aside. Data. The science officer apparently, and Gaeta remembered the lectures on robotics. Data was an android, with a positronic brain. There had been a lot of philosophical talk about sentience concerning Data. He'd gone to some of the technical lectures as well. At least he didn't look like a Cylon, Gaeta thought. And he certainly didn't pass for human. The bizarrely pale man looked at him quizzically. " Were you here just to socialize? Many humans enjoy beverages while socializing."

Creepy. It reminded him of Cavil. Cavil liked to offer to bring him water when he was working. Which made his hands clench into fists because Cavil sometimes had followed that kindness up by hitting him. With whatever was available, and saying no was worse.

"Orange juice?" Data asked helpfully. " I believe you're in very early morning, Mr. Gaeta. A breakfast juice? Perhaps grapefruit? And you, Lt. Barclay, coffee with extra sugar?"

" We would like waffles," Barclay said. He looked at Gaeta. " You still like waffles? With whipped cream and strawberries?" He waited a moment. " Felix? Are you ok?"

Gaeta realized he was clenching the table so hard, his knuckles were white. Both Barclay and the android were staring at him. Barclay was looking even more worried, and the android was just staring at him with no expression.

" I'm fine… waffles would be great…Don't… don't you have things to do?" If he recalled correctly, Data was considered a valuable asset. And was probably considered sentient and also outranked him, "Sir?"

Data looked at him and blinked, seeming to take in the moment. " I enjoy performing menial tasks that allow me to interact the crew. It allows me to see a broad range of human emotion. However, I can see that my presence is disturbing you. That is not a surprise. Your experience is likely to affect your interaction with me so I do assure you, I am programmed to not harm humans or any form of sentient life unless threatened."

" That's… nice." Gaeta said after a moment. His skin was still crawling but he tried to ignore it.

" Two orders of waffles, coming up" Data said pleasantly. He nodded and walked off.

" The captain is sort of keeping Commander Data away from things," Barclay said after a moment. " Because the colonials might be… sensitive. You know…"

" He's hardly a Centurion…" Gaeta said as he watched the android walk away. He shook his head. Five days ago he had been lucky to get one ration bar. Now he was sitting in the flagship of Starfleet, and a robot was making him waffles.

It was too bizarre.

Chapter Text

Lee nervously adjusted his uniform. It was an honor to be chosen, and a privilege, and he hadn't expected to get the chance. Things were rather tense and worse, things were political, and he knew that his father was more out of his element than he wanted to admit. So he hadn't protested at being regulated to decidedly lower work than what he was used to. The Admiral was worried about how it would look, having his son in the chain of command. Highly placed in the chain of command, at that, and that meant that Lee had been on duty that kept him well away from the Earth people. That had been disappointing, but he understood.

He wasn't sure what had changed his father's mind but he wasn't going to argue. He wanted to see the Earth ship. He wanted to see it, and look around, and talk to the people on board. He wanted to see aliens, and Picard, the ship's commander, had said that the Enterprise crew had almost a quarter of the crew as non-human. He wanted to see that. It was like every science fiction story he had ever read, and even better it was historic. When the books were written, and he was beginning to be comfortable with the fact that the colonists and their history would go on, then he would be there. One of the first people to make contact with Earth.

Earth and the Federation. They were always careful to say they were from the Federation of Planets and not just Earth. That was interesting. And encouraging. Picard had also said that Earth itself had many colony worlds.

That darkened his thoughts but only for a moment. Kara had made him think, she always had that ability, on what was going to happen next. She had made a good point, that they were coming to the table with nothing. He knew that Picard had made a preliminary offer. President Roslin had announced it, and the Federation's offer of aid. People were happy, and excited. At the same time, the undercurrent of fear seemed to be building. He wasn't so sure that it was a good time for the president to take a tour, but she had insisted and Lee supposed it wasn't a bad thing for her to openly show that the Earth people weren't going to trick them or worse.

Helo stepped into the small briefing room, in one of his better duty uniforms and carrying a small duffle bag, no doubt the remainder of his clothes. The Admiral had said to pack for several days, to include their dress uniforms, and a change of civilian clothes. That constituted his entire wardrobe and he was certain that was true for Helo as well. Helo smiled at him. " Are you ready, Lee?"

" As anyone can be. Sharon ok with this?" It didn't matter. Helo had to follow orders, but it couldn't be easy for the man. The Starfleet people hadn't asked much about the Cylons but Lee was sure that it was just a matter of time. Then the President and the Admiral would need to make a decision. The Cylon in the brig was easy. Sharon Agathon and Hera were a different story and despite Helo's pleasant countenance, Lee could see the man was worried.

"The admiral took her off patrol duty so we wouldn't have to put Hera in daycare for too much time." Helo took a seat beside him. " I heard Dee got tapped for this."

" So did I," Lee said. He hoped Helo wouldn't push it.

" You two still having trouble?" Helo asked.

" No, we decided to get divorced." Lee sighed. It was for the best, they both had decided it a few months ago. It had just taken time to go through the motions. At Helo's questioning glance, he added, " It was a long time coming, Karl."

" I know," Helo said after a moment, " But it's still too bad. I noticed that she had been sleeping in the barracks again but…."

" We're still friends," he said after a moment. That was true and he was glad for that. Especially since Dee was coming with them.

And sure enough, in seconds, Anastasia Dualla entered the room. She was also sharply dressed but she had two duffel bags and both looked full. Helo laughed a little.

" Are you sure you have enough, Dee? I mean, Lee and I would carry more bags if you wanted." Helo teased.

" I know that women traditionally pack more," Lee said, " But really it shouldn't go more than four days." Four days was long enough to see a lot but not make the Admiral tense. Plus there was just so much work to be done on the Galactica, and in the fleet.

Dee rolled her eyes, but said nothing.

Roslin and Admiral Adama entered the room. Lee noted with amusement that both of them were as nicely groomed as was possible with their limited facilities. He personally was glad that one of the perks of being chosen was that they all got bumped in the shower and laundry schedule.

" I expect the three of you to uphold the ideals of the Twelve Colonies and of the Colonial Fleet." Adama said it brusquely. He was worried, Lee realized, worried about what was going to happen. The older man looked at each of them intently and Lee realized that all of them were subconsciously straightening their backs. " This exchange," Adama said, " is very important. We are beginning treaty negotiations with these people. I know each of you will act in a fashion that demonstrates our beliefs." He relaxed suddenly. " That means no fighting, no acts of treason, no mutiny, and try not to make it look completely desperate here." Adama smiled, to indicate he was joking, although there was a lot of truth to his comments. " You'll be escorting President Roslin during her visit, and then spending time with the crew of the Enterprise. I expect to receive compliments on the professionalism and excellence of my officers. Is that understood?"

" Yes sir," all three chimed.

" Then let's go. You all have a shuttle to catch." They all began to file out of the briefing room when Roslin grabbed him gently by the arm.

" I need a moment, Major." She waited until the others were out of earshot. " Lee, I read your report. About the FTL engines. I need a favor."

" What?" He couldn't imagine she wanted, but the last few days had brought a lot of surprises.

" You, and I, and the Admiral, are the only ones who have read that report." Roslin looked at him, her expression closed off. " I know the rumors can't be stopped, although the admiral is going to try. This is what I need from you. Under no circumstances are you to mention that the damage to the FTL computer and engines was sabotage. You're also not to mention that Lt. Gaeta is the most likely and most obvious candidate to have committed this sabotage."

Lee considered that carefully. The rumors on the Galactica weren't going to stop, but most of the crew had gotten past the initial anger. The important thing, most everyone said around the bar the night before, was that Gaeta had done the right thing and gotten them to safety. He personally hadn't planned on making any accusations, but he didn't see what was so terrible if he did. The Starfleet people weren't likely to punish Felix Gaeta for trashing someone else's ship. They had seemed shocked and pleased that Gaeta was alive at all. " I can do that, Madame President, but why?"

" Consider it a personal favor to me," Roslin said after a moment.

Lee nodded, and wondered.

Chapter Text

Roslin took a seat inside the small ship the Starfleet people called a runabout. It was very plush compared to a Raptor and a bit bigger. It could comfortably seat twenty and possibly up to fifty if they were crammed in. She let herself smile slightly She was used to considering such things, how many people to shove into a tiny space. With any luck, that part of her life was soon to be over.

The Galactica officers were nervous, she could see that. Nervous but curious, and she supposed that was more than fair. Bill had chosen well, she realized after a moment. Karl Agathon was hardly her favorite officer, and his marriage made her skin crawl, but he was steady and loyal as long as his family was safe. Lt. Dualla was another one Roslin knew primarily for her steadiness. And Lee, of course. That had been a surprising choice for Bill to make but she was fairly certain she had figured out the man's reasoning on all three.

Anastasia Dualla and Felix Gaeta were friends. Close friends, and she had witnessed enough friendly exchanges between Agathon and Gaeta to know that there was friendship there as well. Safe picks in other words, loyal officers who were mature and would behave in a friendly fashion to Felix Gaeta.

Lee was an odd choice. Professional, of course, and while she didn't think he was more than casually friendly with Gaeta, he certainly hadn't been involved in the Circle. He was Bill's son, and it was unspoken between her and Bill that he was worried about the appearance of nepotism. So it was a surprise that he had chosen Lee.

Then again, she wondered if Bill Adama was better at the political game than she had ever given him credit for being. It was risky of her to go to the Starfleet ship, she doubted that anything would happen but it was risky and Vice President Zarek was at an undisclosed position, just in case. She was certain that Captain Picard was aware of that precaution. But… Bill was making a very important statement about trust, sending Lee to the Enterprise. There were exactly three hundred fifty seven families in the fleet, people who had members of their direct family survive the holocaust. Most of those were people who had been traveling with young children. The Adama family was one of four where two biologically related adults had survived. Bill Adama was giving over his son to the captain of the Enterprise and that was a statement of trust that was priceless. It told the Starfleet captain that Adama was willing to try, to extend a hand in trust.

It also, she supposed, was a rather obvious warning.

The runabout lifted off the deck smoothly. It accelerated differently, she could feel that, and judging by the quiet talk between Lee and Agathon, they found it interesting as well. No doubt they were all going to see things that were amazing. She couldn't deny it, underneath the fear and the worry about the people, she savored the childish glee she was feeling. No one had ever told her that having a teaching degree would ever lead to treaty talks with the fabled 13th colony.

She could have brought an aide. She didn't. It was best that she speak with Gaeta alone for a variety of reasons and… There was only one person she wished that she could share the sheer pleasure of the moment, and he was gone. She reached into her small handbag and felt for the ugly ring.

Oh Billy, I wish you were here right now, she thought sadly as she rubbed the debate ring. You deserve to be here.

She let the moment of sadness pass. Billy was gone, and she had no doubt that if there was an afterlife, he was there, happy for all of them. And it wasn't a long enough trip to get lost in thought. Already she could see that they were coming up on the Enterprise.

" They don't have much of a landing area," Lee observed.

The pilot of the runabout, a rugged looking fellow caught the question and looked over his shoulder. " We don't really use runabouts as heavily as you folks do. You'll see when you're on board." The pilot turned to her. " Madame President, the captain will be meeting you and your party when we land. Since this is an informal visit, he felt you would prefer if the normal pomp and circumstance was avoided."

" Yes that would be fine." Particularly since she had no idea what passed for formal greetings with the 13th colony.

" Excellent!" The pilot returned to his duties, " We're going to land in just a moment so if everyone could sit tight?" Roslin found herself intrigued as they came up on the landing deck. It looked open to space, and yet she could see people moving and no one was wearing oxygen gear. She heard all three of the officers whispering in surprise to each other. Some sort of forcefield, she realized as they entered the landing bay, feeling a slight pop as they went through the forcefield and came to a rest on the deck. The pilot cheerfully got up and went to the hatch to open it.

" Let us, Madame President," Lee said. " We're the escort, we should go first."

" No," she said brightly. " This is an informal visit. And there's nothing to be afraid of here." She quickly stepped down the small steps and onto the deck of the Enterprise.

It was impressive. Very white and clean, much the way the Galactica had been when she had first seen it so long ago. The various crew people were bustling about, clearly preparing more supplies and Captain Jean Luc Picard was standing by the runabout, looking very straight and proper. Not so different from Bill Adama, she suspected, but definitely smoother. Beware the inner core of steel, she told herself as he stepped forward to greet her. Picard on the surface was a much more genial man than Adama, but he was also much more of a diplomat.

" President Roslin, it is my pleasure to welcome you to the U.S.S. Enterprise." He smiled pleasantly as he shook her hand. Then he gestured to the three officers who were, Roslin noted with some pride, taking great care to not gawk. It was hard. She already wanted to look over Picard's shoulder at the flash of moving blue at the far end of the landing bay, because she was fairly certain it was a person moving. A person with blue skin.

" Let me introduce the officers for the exchange," she said. " I believe you've met Captain Agathon. This is Lt. Anastasia Dualla, and this is Maj. Lee Adama."

Picard's eyes registered that quickly and inside, Roslin marveled at his control. He understood exactly that Admiral Adama was making a point, a much larger point than merely allowing a politician to expose herself to danger. She wondered suddenly if Picard understood what William Adama would do to him if anything happened to Lee.

Yes, she realized after a moment of looking into his eyes, he knows. Picard shook hands with all three officers, lingering on Lee for a moment. " You must be related to the Admiral," Picard said easily.

" Yes," Lee said. " The Admiral is my father."

Picard nodded, seeming to internalize that for later. " As the three of you will be staying with us for several days, I have had quarters arranged. Commander Troi will escort the three of you there to get settled in. Ms. Roslin, I have a briefing arranged for you, the briefing you requested with Lt. Commander Gaeta. Then I'll be showing you the ship and how a Starfleet vessel functions. I know I only have you for the day, but I was hoping all of you would join me for a meal before Ms. Roslin departs back to the Galactica with our officers this evening."

Lee turned to look at her when Picard mentioned the briefing, but she ignored it. " I think that sounds like a wonderful plan, especially since I won't be staying long."

~*~

The briefing roof was much like the rest of the ship, pleasantly and almost decadently appointed in comparison to the vast majority of the ships in the Colonial Fleet. What little she had seen already reminded her of the Cloud Nine. It was a good idea to come, she realized, even without the briefing. Starfleet was wealthy. Wealthy and high minded about itself if she was judging it correctly. Doing the right thing was extremely important to them, and they were bending over backwards to prove it.

Felix Gaeta was there, and he rose when she entered the room. It was odd, seeing such a familiar face in a Starfleet uniform. He wore the yellow colored uniform, as opposed to Picard's red, and she wondered if that was a rank difference or a job difference. He also looked nervous, more than she would have expected. Nervous and pale, as if he hadn't been sleeping, and she wondered about that.

Then again, there was a reason she had wanted to see him, and it wasn't just to get important intelligence.

"Madame President," he said quietly, and then nodded to Picard. " Captain."

Picard nodded back and then turned to her. " I understand," the older man said gently, " that our technology is a concern. This room is often used by foreign dignitaries for private discussion. It is sound proof and there are no listening devices. Starfleet regulation requires that we be able to accord guests with complete privacy in diplomatic situations. I'm sure Mr. Gaeta will assure you on that as well. Mr. Gaeta, I am sure Ms. Roslin has many questions for you. Signal me when you're done." With that the older man left the room.

" He's very charming, in his way," Roslin said as she took a seat at the briefing table. She smiled at Gaeta. " How much trouble are you in, Mr. Gaeta?"

He took a seat opposite her and pulled out one of the ubiquitous computer pads. " I read over the offer. It's very generous, and very fair."

" That's not what I asked you," she said after a moment. That there was trouble was obvious. Gaeta had always been an easy read in some respects. " You told me that you would be in trouble."

He glared at her. " I told you a lot of things, Ms. Roslin. I don't know how badly it's going to go, there's no doubt that I violated my oath to the Federation in order to honor my oath to the Twelve Colonies, but right now, it's my trouble. Not yours. It doesn't have to be your trouble. And it could be." He gestured around the room. " The captain is a good man. I'd heard about him, and it doesn't surprise me that he's captain of the flagship of the fleet, but there have been changes in the last ten years. He seems inclined to just reprimand me, but it's not entirely his decision, and he's only begun to investigate the violations. If anyone thought, for example, that I wasn't just manipulating things by myself, that I had told someone something… that person would also be in trouble. They wouldn't be able to do much, but the Federation could insist on certain changes being made in the civilian government. So that the person who assisted me, if there was such a person, wouldn't be allowed to profit from subverting a Starfleet officer. Do you understand me?"

The question, Roslin wondered, was whether he was throwing himself into the fire merely to protect her, or if his guilt was making him do it. Because he was right about one thing. He was guilty.

The problem was that she was guilty as well, and she was going to have to decide soon whether she let him take all the blame or not. " Yes." She added after a moment. "I'm glad I trusted you."

Gaeta sighed. " You trusted me, because I used your religion against you."

Which, she knew from Picard and Riker's explanation, was one of their society's biggest rules, to not manipulate a society. It had taken years of misery for him to do what he had done, and more than once in the last few months, she had thanked the gods for convincing the man that the right thing wasn't necessarily following the letter of the law. And that meant she had to at least try to help him. Especially since he was taking the fall for all of it.

" For what it's worth, Lt. Gaeta," she said conspiratorially as she leaned over the table, " I never really believed that you were the child born in the shadow of Olympus."

After a moment, he smiled darkly. "That's going to surprise my mother, considering that it's true."

Chapter Text

" Why don't we start with Lt. Dualla's quarters?" Troi said easily as they walked down the hallway. " All the quarters are basically the same, so I can show you all the things that you aren't going to be familiar with." She stopped in front of a non-descript door. " I figured you'd all prefer to be close to each other, so your quarters are in a row here. If you get lost, all you need to do is touch one of the wall keypads and ask for directions. The computers here are voice activated." The woman smiled at the three of them. " I understand that voice automation isn't something you've been exposed to. Not everyone likes it and you can turn it off if you wish." She touched the wall panel and like magic, the door slid open.

They all followed her in. Beside her, Dee could hear Helo's sharp intake of breath. He was surprised, and so was she. The room was… opulent. The Galactica's guest quarters, before they were commandeered for different purposes, were closet sized. The room she was looking at… it wasn't even just one room. There was a sitting area and she could see a bedroom through the small doorway. A bedroom and a bathroom. She struggled not to grin. She hadn't had a private bathroom to use since she had left home to join the military. She would have been perfectly fine being told that she, Lee, and Helo would all be sharing quarters if the quarters were so big. She suddenly felt terrible for the crew people from the Enterprise who would be spending days on the Galactica. They were in for an unpleasant shock.

Troi explained the basics. They did use computers for a lot. It was almost creepy really, although Dee knew enough about the problems of water storage to agree that the sonic shower was a good idea. Trying it was a different story, but she figured she would. There was nothing to fear, she had made that decision six days earlier. They had found Earth.

She certainly had a few questions for one Lt. Felix Gaeta, that was true, but he was her friend, and she figured that since she had never asked Gaeta if he was born on Earth, she could hardly accuse him of lying about it. It was a rationalization, but she didn't mind.

"Finally," Troi said, as she walked over to a square opening in the wall, " this is a food replicator. There is a cafeteria where a lot of the single crewpeople like to eat, but some people prefer breakfast and supper in their quarters. The food replicator takes bulk matter and, using computer programs and energy, transforms the bulk matter into whatever food you like. For example," Troi turned her attention to the slot in the wall, " Computer, I'd like an apple."

Dee watched in amazement as the boxy area lit up. It was like watching a wave of sparkles that quickly coalesced first into a discernable shape and then into an apple. A bright red apple, like ones that she used to pick off the trees that grew on her grandmother's land. Troi picked it up and held it out to her. " Go ahead… try it."

Dee took the apple and bit into it. If it had tasted like sawdust, she wouldn't have minded, because it had been so long since she had anything that didn't taste like sawdust or pond scum. In fact, it was juicy and tart, and tasted exactly like an apple should. " It's good," she said to Lee and Helo.

Lee gestured to the replicator. " That's how you're doing it," he said. She could see him putting things together in his head. It didn't surprise her. Lee was sharp, sharper than a lot of people gave him credit for, including his father. She certainly hadn't wondered about where the supplies were coming from. She had just thanked the gods that the Enterprise was so willing to share. But now… she realized that their food supply was dependant less on stores and more on the energy supply.

Lee wasn't done. " This is some of that higher tech… that Lt. Gaeta couldn't reveal?" There was more than a little bit of anger in his voice and Dee could understand why. People had been starving, the rations had barely kept anyone alive. And if it could make food, no doubt it could make other things, other necessary things that people had been going without for.

Troi's smile faltered just a little. " Yes. And other things as well." Her expression didn't change, but Dee could sense a hardness coming over the woman. " I'm not a technician or an engineer, Major Adama, so I can't tell exactly how these things work, but I do know the basics. Our technology requires a great deal of energy and the ability to store it. What we know of the Beta Quadrant, where you're from, is that the necessary articles to build this technology don't exist. Mr. Gaeta could have explained our tech in detail but…"

"We couldn't have replicated it. I understand." Lee finished. He nodded, looking for a moment just like his father. I don't regret the divorce, Dee told herself. She wasn't a good match for Lee, and while he tried, he just didn't love her. Sometimes though, she regretted it. He shrugged. "Perhaps we should let Lt. Dualla settle in? And you can show Capt. Agathon and myself our quarters?"

She was grateful to be alone for a few moments, that was the truth. There was a certain childish glee in having a big room all to herself. She successfully resisted the urge to actually jump on the giant bed but she did let herself fall back on it. It was delightfully soft and bigger than any bed she had slept in since before the colonies were destroyed. It was nicer than a suite on the Cloud Nine, not that she'd had more than a passing glance inside the rooms there. And they had already been getting dingy with hard use.

Unpack, she told herself forcefully. The uniforms would wrinkle if they stayed rolled up and she didn't want to look sloppy. She was an officer of the colonial fleet. The last thing she wanted was to make the colonial fleet look bad. Colonel Tigh had already done a marvelous job of making them look like complete savages. She had a pretty good idea who had been in the Circle with Tigh, which just made it worse. It explained so much about everything.

It didn't take long to unpack though, and in a matter of minutes her clothes were hung and she was back to sitting on the soft bed. She hoped the four days wasn't going to go as slowly. It helped that she was completely wired. Wired with next to nothing to do until President Roslin finished with her conference with Lt. Gaeta.

That was Lt. Commander Gaeta, she reminded herself. It was like something out of a story, it really was, like one of those stories that her father liked to read to her when she was little, where the hero was lost on the shores of a distant land with no way to get home. And if the Enterprise was any indicator, he had left behind a lot. A lot of things about him had made sudden sense when he had revealed just who he was. He had always seemed too urbane, too cultured, to have been just another orphaned farm kid who taught himself out of library books. She knew that kind of person. Good people, but unsophisticated, and she had been surprised when he had told her that. She had assumed that being raised on Caprica, even without parents or the luxury of decent schooling, had accounted for his often dry sense of humor and cultured manners.

She turned her head and spied the extra duffle bag. Lee and Helo could tease, but she had done the right thing. Felix had been grabbed and taken without a moment to even say good bye. He had things. Not many things, but there was no reason that he should have to give up everything he owned. She knew he cherished his few remaining photos of friends that were killed in the holocaust, the books he had traded for. It wasn't much to show for ten years, but she intended that he would get his things. Particularly since it wasn't as though they were going to let him come back to the Galactica any time soon. Not after what Tigh and his band of vigilantes had done.

And she wasn't pleased that Gaeta had kept that secret on top of everything else. That was foolish, and dangerous, and he hadn't deserved it. She had never seen the admiral look so angry. He hadn't even done anything but stalk out into the CIC and then away, and she had gotten the story from Lee, who had been shaken. Shaken that Kara had participated, of that Dee had no doubt. It didn't surprise her in the slightest. Kara had gotten mean after New Caprica. A lot of people had, but Kara had been the worst, followed very closely by Col. Tigh.

The door buzzed and then opened and Helo stepped into her room. " Isn't this amazing?" he asked as she got up from the bed. " I asked, and Commander Troi said that everyone who is an officer has their own quarters. Just not as big. And the senior enlisted people do too, and the junior enlisted people share but only four to a room at most. They have family quarters, Dee. I almost wish I could have brought Sharon and Hera." After a moment, his face darkened just a little. " Maybe not, I suppose. We still don't know how they are going to handle Cylons."

" They don't seem that concerned," Dee said after a moment. Which in a way was reassuring, and in a way was frightening. " You know the admiral won't let anything happen to Sharon."

" It's not the admiral I'm worried about," Helo said with a sigh. As he spoke the door opened again. This time it was Troi, and she had Lee in tow.

" Captain Picard advised me that President Roslin is finishing up her conference so we are going to meet him and the president there, and then start the tour. If you'll follow me?" She led them to one of the lifts. Dee was already starting to realize that stairs were a rarity on the ship. Still, the lift was incredibly fast, and in seconds they were in a new corridor.

President Roslin was in the hallway, talking with Picard. Dee almost smiled as she spotted Felix Gaeta standing carefully to the side, holding one of the computer pads exactly like a clipboard. He was wearing one of their uniforms, which did make her smile. She choked that down though. It wasn't professional… and he looked nervous. He nodded to her, that slight nod that she knew so well. The signal that while things weren't grim, they were serious and there was no time to chat.

" Ah, you're here. Excellent." Picard smiled winningly at them. Dee noticed that Roslin seemed pleased as well. The offer, Dee realized, must have been good. Picard gestured down the hallway. " I thought we'd start first with the bridge. Mr. Gaeta," and Dee had to bite her tongue at how Gaeta jumped, and she could see Picard notice it as well, " you'll be joining us, of course. I've been remiss in giving you the standard orientation."

Felix nodded. "Yes, sir." He was more than nervous, she realized. He was worried at how they were going to react. He had reason. And she wasn't going to make things worse.

" It's good to see you, sir," she said easily. " I just wish you hadn't left the CIC in such a mess."

" No," Helo said after just a moment, " that mess just started piling up after you left. I actually had to start doing my job again."

After a moment, Gaeta did smile, a real smile, which she hadn't seen in a long while. " Well, we can't have that, sir."

" Aren't we supposed to be calling you sir?" Lee said brightly. " Lt. Commander isn't it?"

Gaeta nodded, his face flushed with embarrassment. " It's mostly honorary," he said quietly. " Because they thought I was dead."

" Missing, Mr. Gaeta." They all turned to look at Troi. She smiled slightly. " We thought you were missing. We had hope."

" Now, if you'll all follow me?" Picard said after a moment. " Madame President?" He held out his arm, which Roslin took after a moment.

Dee waited until everyone started moving to get in beside Gaeta. "Are you ok? You look worried."

He looked at her, and smiled. " It's all right. It's just been… odd." He paused, seeming to think. " I'm glad you got to come for the exchange."

She smiled back. " I wouldn't miss this for anything."

Chapter Text

It was hard to not be impressed. Or amazed. It was hard, Lee Adama thought as he followed Picard down the hallway, to be anything but completely shocked. He had suspected that Starfleet was much more advanced but seeing the raw evidence of it… He wondered if the Cylons could infiltrate the ship with their virus weapon. The Enterprise was like a shrine to networked systems. It was amazing, but it also made his skin crawl.

But only just a little. And that was partly because the lift was a bit crowded.

" This is the main bridge," Picard said as the door opened. " I believe it's comparable to your CIC? Each station corresponds to a function area of the ship. Engineering, security…."

Lee tried to listen but there was just so much to look at, despite the small space. The Enterprise bridge was dominated by a giant viewer, and the view of the Galactica and the fleet. That alone was intriguing, and interesting, especially since he rarely had time while flying to really look at the fleet. The Galactica looked like a blackened, scarred behemoth among the smaller ships. But that only held his gaze for a moment.

What grabbed his attention was the man who rose from one of the chairs on the lower deck. If it was a man, Lee wasn't entirely sure. He had caught a flash of something earlier, something blue and moving but whatever it was had left the landing bay before he'd gotten a good look, and he had seen a few aliens that Troi had called Vulcans. Vulcans looked like people, austere people with arched brows and pointed ears, but people. This… man looked like the monster antagonist of the scary stories he used to tell Zac.

But it was in a Starfleet uniform, and he doubted that Picard had brought them to the plush sanctity of the ship's main operation center to let some monster tear them to bits. It certainly looked capable of killing, almost like an animal, but as it came closer, Lee started to put the features together. The knobby, ridged forehead was startling, as was the scowl on it's face, but it had eyes and ears. It could be a person, he supposed.

" Captain," it growled, " The bridge is yours."

Picard nodded. " Thank you, Mr. Worf." He turned to the four Colonial citizens. " Lieutenant Commander Worf is my tactical officer. He is also a Klingon, which I am quite sure you have not seen before. The Klingon Empire is currently on good terms with the Federation, and Mr. Worf is one of my finest officers. He's one of the people participating in the exchange tomorrow."

" Yes," Worf rumbled. " I look forward to it." His tone implied anything but. He had a malevolent glare that reminded Lee of his father when William Adama was extremely angry. Still, for all Lee knew, that was a happy look on the Klingon's face.

He also had no idea what passed for courtesy, but he had no intention of being considered backward and cowardly. The backward part was a lost cause, he'd realized that when he saw an apple materialize out of nothing, but there was nothing to be afraid of. So he held out his hand to the Klingon. " I'm Maj. Lee Adama. We usually shake hands, when we first meet someone new. Can I shake your hand?"

The Klingon eyed him. Then he took Lee's hand and shook it, firmly. It didn't feel any different from a human hand. " It is a common human custom," Worf said. " I had read Lt. Cmdr Gaeta's reports. Your people have displayed courage worthy of Klingons. I was quite… impressed."

" The Admiral is looking forward to your visit." Lee said easily. As Picard continued to describe the functions of the various stations, Laura Roslin came up beside him.

"Nicely done," she whispered. " Are you sure you're in the right line of work, Major Apollo?"

Lee was starting to wonder that himself.

~*~

" I must be honest," Roslin said as they left the engine room, "Most of the technical discussion went over my head." She suspected it had gone over the Galactica officers heads as well. If they had been paying attention at all to Commander La Forge's rather excited description of the warp core, which she doubted. The warp core was interesting to look at, but she found herself watching the Enterprise crew more. Picard was a much different man than Bill Adama, she had figured that out almost immediately but the two men did share some traits and it showed in the crew. The Enterprise crew clearly respected him. She may not have understood La Forge's technical discussion, but Picard clearly did and his people knew it. If the Starfleet officers seemed a little less disciplined in general, she suspected that was a difference in the entire structure of Starfleet. They did insist they were more about exploration and research than military accomplishments, and that was probably an indicator.

" Mr. La Forge takes great pride in the Enterprise's engines," Picard said easily. " I know I've shown you quite a bit. We have one more thing to see, and it's right this way." The small group followed him to a rather non descript door with "Transporter Room Three" neatly printed on the wall beside it. Transporters, Roslin recalled, had been something that Admiral Adama had wondered about, something about idle chatter he'd over heard. And there was a provision in the treaty offer, Gaeta had said it was important. The Federation was offering to share its technology, including warp, replicator, and transporter technology, and that was a very big deal. Not something they did out of kindness, which meant they considered it very powerful, and that they were extremely interested in the FTL drive. Which means, she thought with amusement, that I had better pay more attention.

The room was fairly bare, with a console manned by a lone officer and a large platform that had six circles patterned on the floor. Hardly intimidating. Hardly important looking. But then, the built in boxlike shelf in the conference room had not looked special either until Felix Gaeta made hot coffee appear in it. So it was most likely important.

" Matter transportation is a technology we use quite extensively," Picard said as they all stepped into the room. " This works on a similar principle as the replicators."

" But what does it do?" Helo asked. "I mean… Matter transportation implies you move stuff with it… sir."

Roslin smiled at the honorific. Politeness never hurt and Helo had always been polite.

" It does move things, Capt. Agathon." Picard seemed pleased by his question. " A matter transporter can take an object, dematerialize it and store it's pattern and literally send the object, or a person, to a different place."

" You do this… to people?" Dualla asked. She sounded more than a little afraid, and Roslin wasn't sure she blamed the young woman.

" It's safer than flying," the operator, a young woman not much older than Dualla, said with a smile. " Anyone want to try?"

" Perhaps a demonstration first," Picard said. " Cmdr. Troi? If you please?"

Troi nodded and quickly stepped up onto the platform. Not nervous in the slightest, and while she had already pegged Troi as clever and manipulative, Roslin didn't think the woman had nerves of steel. Which meant whatever was about to happen wasn't dangerous. She wanted to step up on the platform herself, to make the point but that would just lead to her officer escort protesting and since she was certain it wasn't dangerous, it would be rude. Rude to imply their host was suggesting something that would lead to killing a guest.

" Wait, I'll do it," Helo stepped forward. He smiled. " I mean… you've done this, haven't you, Felix?"

Gaeta smiled slightly. " More times than I could count by the time I was five. It's been a while though. I don't mind demonstrating. It's not dangerous." He stepped onto the platform. " Where are we going, sir?"

" For demonstration purposes, transporter room two." Picard said after a moment. " It's just down the hallway. Normally we don't transport inside a ship unless there's a medical emergency, but this is a demonstration. Ensign Kelly?"

The young woman nodded and with a practiced flick of her wrist, activated the console. And Roslin found herself struggling to not gasp in shock as the three people standing on the platform dissolved in a pretty flash of light. Dualla did gasp, and out of the corner of her eye, Roslin saw Lee put a hand on the young woman's shoulder. Don't panic, she thought forcefully at Dualla, for the sake of the gods don't panic. That was the last thing she needed.

Because if Dualla had a fit, Roslin wasn't all that certain that she wouldn't follow suit.

Out loud she said, " And when do they come back?"

Picard smiled. " That depends on how quickly they walk back from transporter room two."

The door opened and Agathon almost leapt through the opening. " You guys… it's amazing! It feels great and then we were in a totally different room!"

Don't look relieved, Roslin told herself. " And this is a common technology? Everyone uses it?"

" For large transport jobs, it's the only way to go," Ensign Kelly said as Troi and then Gaeta filed back into the room.

" I held off on using them for supply delivery," Picard said after a moment. " I didn't want to startle your people with it. Even on Earth there are people who aren't comfortable with transporters."

" Yes, I can appreciate that," Roslin said. She took a deep breath. " I'm glad I agreed to this tour, Captain. It helps me appreciate what the Federation is offering." And just how easily the Federation could take what it wanted.

Chapter Text

Helo stepped off the lift and into the corridor. He suspected that they were expected to retire quietly to their quarters but he was too keyed up. He wasn't even close to being tired, although he did feel unnaturally full after the biggest meal he'd had in years. He had never been a chow hound, but it had been years since he had a dinner that hadn't tasted like it had come out of a storage locker. Whatever had been on his plate, unfamiliar as some of the seasoning was, had tasted fresh. And good. And there had been a lot of it, a savory stew with meat and vegetables. Not to mention the familiar looking salad. Familiar in the sense that he recognized the vegetables involved, like lettuce and celery and tomatoes. It had other things too, little bits of fruit he didn't know, and unfamiliar crunchy nuts. But it had been at least a year since he had any fresh vegetables. A raw carrot to munch would have been a treat. " I can't believe I'm… not hungry. What was that we were eating, Felix?"

Gaeta shrugged. Helo wasn't surprised that Gaeta had gotten off the lift with them. Felix Gaeta looked… worried. And lonely. Like he wanted to talk but didn't want to impose. " Beef Bourguignon…. Beef tips in a wine sauce with traditional French vegetables and mushrooms. It's a traditional French meal and the captain is French."

"And all the… wine?" Lee asked. " I thought he was trying to get us drunk on weak ambrosia." Lee seemed annoyed. Helo had to admit, it was odd to be handed a glass of alcohol as soon as he walked into the dining area. Captain Picard seemed to delight in describing each type of wine as well. And every different food seemed to mean that they had to change the type of wine. He had been surprised, as much as Lee, since he had expected it to be a formal meal and a glass of ambrosia was always on the table but it wasn't quaffed.

Unless you were Ellen or Saul Tigh.

" He's French," Gaeta said. " It's how they are," he added after a moment. " People from France… They think it's rude to not offer wine. And different dishes and meal course require different types of wine. It's… cultural…"

Gaeta hadn't gotten over his stiffness, Helo could see that. He had always liked Felix Gaeta, appreciated that there had been at least one person aside from himself that had always treated Sharon like a person even when she was locked up in the brig. And he had suspected that something had gone on between Gaeta, and Colonel Tigh. And with Kara Thrace for that matter.

And that really wasn't why they were there, Helo told himself. Sure the Enterprise was shiny and filled with exciting, distracting things, but they were Colonial Fleet officers. They were supposed to gather useful information. Starfleet probably wasn't an enemy, but there wasn't a signed treaty yet and Helo figured his people needed every piece of information he could gather. " We should go talk, Felix. Catch up. There's got to be some place we can all sit down and relax." Even if just in their giant living quarters.

Gaeta shrugged. " There's… Ten Forward. It's like a bar… There's tables… and drinks. It has big viewing windows too. It's nice." He didn't sound enthused, but Helo had the impression he was trying, at least.

" That sounds perfect." Fortunately, he wasn't fool enough to think that the Enterprise had a bar in the same sense that the Galactica had a bar. Even if they did serve drinks, the Enterprise didn't strike Helo as a place to get rowdy. He turned to Dualla and Lee. " What do you guys think?"

" I'm in," Dee said quickly. " I'm not tired at all."

" Sure," Lee said after a moment. Helo almost reconsidered. Lee was in a bad mood over something, that was obvious. " I have to admit, I have a lot of questions."

~*~

Bill Adama shook the hands of the three medical officers from Starfleet. The bulk of the exchange officers were coming the next morning, but medical officers had been going back and forth quite a bit already. These ones were staying and he couldn't help but be grateful. Jack Cottle was a damn fine doctor who had kept thousands of people alive for years with next to nothing, but he was also a 68 year old man who had planned on retiring after the Galactica's decommissioning. Instead, he had spent the last four years working around the clock not only treating every injury and sickness but also desperately training people to assist others. Three more doctors and medical supplies relieved untold suffering. Cottle was so busy, he didn't even have time to play the meet and greet games, so he was there to make the Starfleet officers feel welcome. Ishay, one of Cottle's better apprentices, was going to get them settled in and then haul them down to sick bay and put them to work. Picard had even offered their ship's medical facility in the event of serious health issues but fortunately the fleet hadn't needed such generosity. Tomorrow would bring more medical staff, and the official exchange officers would arrive.

Roslin stepped off the runabout, holding a package, and looking well. That was good, that eased the worry that he hadn't realized he'd been feeling until he saw her. She smiled warmly at him, and nodded. Then she made a point of thanking each of the Starfleet medical officers for coming. A nice touch, a nice political touch, and he was suddenly glad he had her to lean on. She may have just been the Minister of Education when the Cylons had attacked, but she was much more now.

She took him by the arm and quickly whispered, " We need to talk," all the while keeping a bright smile on her face. Anyone that didn't know her extremely well would think she was quite pleased. He could see beyond that. She was worried.

She was also surprisingly silent as they walked through the corridors. That was fine with him. If it was bad news, he wanted it kept quiet for as long as possible and there were enough people in the ship hallways that someone would overhear and go running. That was how rumors were created and there were already plenty of rumors running around the ship.

Roslin set down her package on his desk, while he closed the hatch and locked it. " So what's in the box?" he asked.

" Your dinner." Roslin said easily. She withdrew a covered plate and then another. " Captain Picard thinks it's admirable that the civilians are getting first crack at the new food supplies but he also thought you deserved a good meal just as much as anyone else." She uncovered the plate. " Trust me, it's a little unfamiliar but very good. Some sort of stew. There's also a salad, some bread, and desert. And this." She withdrew a bottle.

" He sent ambrosia?" He had to admit, whatever it was on the plate, it smelled savory and good. He took the fork that had thoughtfully been included and took a bite. The taste seemed to explode in his mouth but he set the fork down with discipline. " We're going to have problems if the people find out that this is how they're eating."

" We have bigger problems than that," Laura said. She opened the bottle and got the ambrosia glasses off of his shelf. " It's not ambrosia, by the way. It's similar. They call it wine, and this is apparently from the Picard family farm, and it's made from a fruit called grapes. There are some grapes in the salad as well. They're good. The wine isn't bad." She poured them both a glass and then took a deep drink. " I'm glad I went there. They are extremely powerful, Bill."

He took another bite. It had been a while since anything had tasted good. " Is the offer fair?" That, after all was said and done, was the important thing.

" Yes…," she said as she took another drink, " with several caveats. There's actually several offers available. One of our choices is that we could simply go to Earth."

" I saw that. A lot of the people would like that, considering that Earth is apparently a powerful member of the Federation. It would ease a lot of fears." He could see by her expression that it wasn't so simple. He had rather doubted settling on Earth was going to be a truly viable choice, he had suspected that the cultural issues would be insurmountable but people were going to ask, that had to be expected.

" Earth has plenty of room for forty one thousand or so refugees." Laura took a seat in the chair that was closest to his desk. " The problem is that we would almost be guaranteeing that what little of our culture we were able to save would be gone within a generation. There's seven billion of them. Just on Earth, and they have settlements in their system alone that hold even more. That's not even considering the various colonies, which are numerous." She shrugged. " Fortunately I think the more religious factions in the fleet and in the Quorum are going to be appalled that the average Terran is an atheist, and the ones that are religious believe in completely different gods."

" Terran?" That was new.

" They call the planet Earth but another name for Earth is Terra. Terran apparently sounds better. Visiting Earth is certainly an option but settling there isn't going to appeal to most of the people." Laura said. " It's not like the 12 Colonies at all, according to Mr. Gaeta. Even the less religious among us would be considered quaint. And they're far ahead of us technologically." She began to explain and Adama found himself listening with fascination to what she described.

" They can teleport?" he said finally. " That's like science fiction."

" I know, and I wouldn't believe it if I hadn't seen it, but I did. Captain Agathon actually did it." She leaned over his desk. " And they're willing to show us how to use that technology but there's definitely some problems."

" I thought one of the options was a planet to settle on, with provisional membership in the Federation." That had sounded like the best option to him, when he had read the offer over. Reminiscent of New Caprica, but otherwise a good idea. They could maintain their own culture and finally rest. He sipped the beverage that she had poured for him. It was interesting. Less harsh than ambrosia and almost dry tasting. An interesting drink.

Roslin nodded. " We can pick from about ten different planets. I got the pros and cons from Gaeta on each, although he was quick to point out that his knowledge is out of date. We could cross about five off the list and still have plenty to pick from."

" So what are the problems?" That there were problems was obvious. Bill didn't consider himself a politician by any means but he had learned a few things over the years. It was extremely rare for the more powerful side to simply roll over and bare its belly, and he didn't get the sense that Starfleet was afraid of them in the slightest. They were respectful, and he gave Picard credit for holding back on the comments that he was certain were in the man's thoughts, but they weren't afraid. They had the position of strength, that was obvious, and he was certain that they would use that strength if necessary.

" We would become Federation citizens." Roslin buttered a piece of bread and handed it to him. " We would be given assistance in establishing our new home. We would be monitored, and our laws would need to conform to Federation standards. Some are going to be bigger issues than others. The death penalty for example? Is considered barbaric. The anti-abortion law would have to go, not that anyone will be unhappy about that. The Gemonese can't consider their children property under the law, and all citizens have to be accorded equal rights. Including Sagiterrons. We will be monitored and there will be a lengthy probationary period, generally a minimum of ten years, possibly longer or shorter depending on circumstances. Likewise with technology, we will be instructed in the use of their technology, and we will be monitored closely. One of the things they insist upon is schools, complete with Federation subject matter."

"That's clever," Adama said after a moment. " That almost ensures that the next generation falls in line with their way of thinking. The question is whether we can afford to say no to that. What are the other downsides?"

Roslin took a deep breath. "As a protectorate with full membership pending, we will not be allowed to wage war. We can maintain our armaments, but we won't receive weapon technology until we are full members. We'll be afforded protection by Starfleet but we don't get access to weapon technology until we're full members. We would have access to what is considered common knowledge concerning their weapons, but we'd need to make the hardware ourselves or buy it. And… The Cylons would have to be left alone. Our prisoner would have to be given over to the Federation for Starfleet to deal with. Lt. Agathon would need to be accorded the same rights we grant all citizens."

More a problem for Laura than him, but Adama understood her feelings, even if he didn't agree about Sharon. He didn't care for the weapon technology clause, and he had picked up on that from reading the offer, and the idea that there would be no retribution didn't sit well. Any true retribution would have to wait years. Years for the next generation to be born and grow up, years that he wasn't likely to live to see. It sounded like a harsh term, it felt high handed and wrong, but as much as he wanted to turn around and lead the charge back to Caprica, the reality was that he was never going to see Caprica again.

The question was whether he wanted to make his peace with that. " What are the other options?"

" We could get some non-military tech in exchange for the FTL dive. Their replicator technology for example. We can establish ourselves on a non Federation world and live as we like. No intervention, no extra help. They'd even point us in a safe direction. Or we can accept offers from some other power, possibly even their enemies." Roslin took another drink. " They do have enemies. The Cardassians and the Klingons currently have treaties with the Federation but would be happy to get our technology. There's also the Romulan Empire…. These are all non human societies."

" What did Mr. Gaeta say about that?" He could imagine.

Laura chuckled. " He recommended against it. He said it was unlikely that the neighboring alliances and empires would deal fairly. They would be much more likely to just take what they wanted by force. To be fair, he also recommended that I read the Federation history of Klingon, Cardassian, and Romulan interactions before I made a decision. I did look at some of the material and… we can put it to the people but once they see a Klingon, they aren't likely to want to make alliances elsewhere."

"Scary?"

"You'll find out." Laura warned. " The Enterprise has a Klingon officer that you'll be meeting tomorrow." She sighed. " They seem like good people, but a lot of things will need to change for us to do well with them."

" You want the planet, don't you?" It seemed like the best option so far.

"It keeps us intact as a people." She set down her glass. " The differences in law aren't ridiculous. They'll want the kids out of the military, and if we're settling on a planet, that's not a hardship. They will want a trial for Dr. Baltar, a fair trial. That might be a problem."

"We could just let him run free in the fleet. See how long he lasts." An ugly thought, but it would certainly solve the problem.

But he wasn't surprised that Roslin shook her head. " They think we're savages already. Trust me, they will think even less of us if we do that. As it is, I doubt we'll get Mr. Gaeta back to fix the engines until after this exchange."

And that would be a problem, especially if the Cylons came.

Chapter Text

Dualla wasn't surprised to see that Ten Forward was as nice as the rest of the ship. " This place makes Joe's look like…."

"A bunch of scrap metal and old Viper parts made into furniture," Helo said helpfully. " So do all Starfleet ships look like this, Felix? I might have to request a transfer." He was teasing, Dee could tell, but only a little. And he had a point. It was damn nice on the Enterprise.

After a moment, Gaeta chuckled. " No… This is the flagship of the fleet. The last ship I was on was a lot smaller and not as nice. We didn't have a bar, we just moved tables in the cafeteria for parties." He gestured to the mostly empty room. " We should grab a table. The first shift gets off right now, so it will be busy soon."

" A window seat," Dualla said, and started moving before the men could protest. The Enterprise had a lot of windows to space. " Look, we can see the fleet from here." She watched as the ships gently jostled for position. The Galactica dwarfed the other ships, it dwarfed the Enterprise and that pleased her in some odd way. She turned to her three companions. " Come on, sit down." She grabbed Felix and pulled him to a chair. " You're sitting by me, and you are going to answer all my questions. Is that understood?" She held her stern look only for a moment, only until he smiled.

" Ok, ok," he said, holding his hands up in surrender as he took a seat. " I promise I'll answer."

" Good, because I have questions," she said. " I have so many questions." Some that would wait until she was certain he was all right. Felix seemed very tense for someone who had the luck of the gods. Start small, she told herself. " Is Felix Gaeta even your name?"

Helo laughed, and after a moment so did Felix. " Yes," he said, " That's actually my name, although I did skip putting my middle names down. My full name is Felix Spyridon Palamas Gaeta. It could be worse." He grinned. " And I'm from Earth."

" Earth, really? And here I thought you said you were from some Delphi mountain town that had no name." Dee said it in a teasing tone. " I have to wonder if you're really some sad orphan with no family."

He smiled again, but she had the impression she had made a mistake, touched on a sensitive topic. Felix leaned back in his chair, looking both happy and worried at the same time. " My parents are still alive, and my grandparents, and I have six older sisters, and more nieces and nephews than I can count."

" They must be very pleased," Lee said. Dualla looked at him sharply. Lee was angry about something, she knew that tone. The question was why. It was hardly Felix's fault that his family wasn't dead.

Felix eyed him carefully, and Dualla realized that he was picking up on Lee's irritation as well. " They are. If I know my mother and father, they are both pulling every string they can to get on a ship heading out here. Which means in about three weeks my mother will actually be here, telling me I look too thin." He tapped the computer pad he had brought with him. "Here's a picture of my family. It was right after I graduated from the Academy. My sisters, the ones in Starfleet had leave." He handed the pad to her.

The picture was the same sort of photo her own family would have taken, although her family wouldn't have made a digital photo that was so clear, and crisp. There was a much younger looking Felix, smiling and standing next to a taller man that had to be his father. Certainly he had the same curly hair as Felix, and the same facial features, but the man towered over Felix and was bulkier looking. It didn't help that Felix looked like a teenager, a young teenager. The sisters were as tall or taller, and most shared Felix's coloring and hair, although two of them had the blonde coloring and fair skin of the older woman. His mother, Dee assumed. They were a very attractive family, she couldn't deny that at all. She passed the pad to Helo.

" You have hot sisters," Helo said. He pointed to the scenery in the background, a dramatic looking waterfall with thick green forest all around. " Is this Earth?"

Gaeta nodded. " It's a place called Snoqualmie Falls. It's not that far from where I grew up. And don't call my sisters hot."

" Or what?" Helo said, grinning as he passed the pad to Lee.

" They'll beat you up," Gaeta said. " My sister Sofia is as tall as you. Trust me, I was always the small one."

~*~

" This is when you graduated from Starfleet Academy?" Lee asked after looking. He wasn't sure why he was irritated with Gaeta, but he was. Angry was too harsh, it wasn't fair to be angry. There were too many factors that couldn't be helped. In a perfect world, he never would have met Felix Gaeta. Gaeta would not have had the accident, an accident Lee still didn't understand, that caused him to be living on Caprica. In a perfect world, the Cylons wouldn't have invaded, and all of the events leading up to his sitting across the table in a bar on the Enterprise would never have happened. It wasn't fair to be mad at Gaeta.

But irritated was fair. Because just a few hours on board the Enterprise told him just how badly the Twelve Colonies looked. Even if they still had the Cloud Nine and the Pegasus in the fleet, they would still look horribly backward technologically. And worse, the people of the Twelve Colonies looked like complete savages thanks to Gaeta. It wasn't entirely fair to be angry with Gaeta about that. But it was fair to be irritated.

" Yes." Gaeta looked at him coolly, in that way he had. That smart way he had, which only irritated Lee more, because he knew without a doubt that Gaeta had done something to the FTL drive, and he had promised Roslin that he wouldn't say anything.

That his wife, his ex-wife was almost sitting in Gaeta's lap wasn't bothering him at all. "So how old are you, Felix? Because you can't be twenty seven." It was interesting, the things Gaeta had lied about. Not just that he was from Earth, because that was something Lee understood. It was the little things, like his age, that Lee found odd.

" I'm thirty two, Lee." Gaeta said it easily. " Almost thirty three, to be honest. I lied about my age."

"You don't look thirty three." Dee said. " Not at all."

" I have good genes." Gaeta looked awkward. " It runs in the family."

" You're four years old than me?" Helo asked, his tone incredulous. Lee wasn't surprised, he had already assumed that Gaeta had to be older, but he had to admit, the man didn't look his age.

" Why?" Lee asked. He had generally found Gaeta to be extremely honest and while Gaeta looked very young for his age, it was hardly a terrible thing.

Gaeta shrugged. " Because it's easier to be an ignorant naïve mountain kid when you're seventeen. People expect a twenty two year old to have lived a little bit, and I had no way to justify knowing absolutely nothing without… being a little bit younger than I was. I could pass for seventeen, so I did. It worked. The recruiter bought it, I got a place to live, a job, and time to read up on all the things I needed to know to pass myself off as a Caprican. That was a lot. Fortunately there are a lot of odd similarities. You'll see. I think they have you three scheduled to attend the exchange officer briefing tomorrow."

Dee and Helo both looked at their own pads to see that. Lee didn't bother. He had already checked and it was true. Gaeta's answer made sense too. It was clever and well thought out. Which wasn't a surprise. His father had always had the opinion that Felix Gaeta was clever, and so had he. But… " All right, I have another question. You're not… a tactical officer in Starfleet, are you?"

"No," Gaeta said. He seemed to relax a little. " I'm not really anything here, right now, but I was in Engineering. I was thinking of going into the Science track, but I'm so far behind now… Everything I learned about tactics in Starfleet was… non applicable in the Colonial Fleet, so I had to relearn it all. I didn't expect to be an officer when I enlisted. I was really just looking for a job that would let me figure out what to do next, and it just snowballed from there."

" Now wait a minute," Dee said, her eyes lighting up with interest. " Correct me if I'm wrong but… I get the impression that Starfleet officers are pretty smart. But, you never seemed much above average until the Cylon attack and then it was like you suddenly got a lot better at math. I never saw anyone calculate jumps in their head until that jump from Ragnar Anchorage. What about that?"

" I never said I wasn't good at math," Gaeta said after a moment. " I just didn't want to stand out. It wouldn't have made sense, with the story I told. But I also didn't want to get killed so I… got better at math."

" So why didn't you say anything about the Circle?" Lee said it without thinking, but once he did, he realized that was what had been irritating him. It made the Admiral look terrible, not just to the Federation, but to the people in the fleet, that a trusted officer hadn't confided in the Admiral. After all, Gaeta had been in the Resistance. After Tigh had made it known that Gaeta had provided them with the access codes, Lee knew a lot of people had been very impressed, including his father.

Gaeta looked at him with both anger and surprise on his face. " Are you serious, Lee? It isn't obvious?"

The problem was that not only wasn't it obvious to him, it was clear by Helo and Dee's expressions, that it was obvious to them. Which turned his irritation into anger. " I asked you a question. And if you could tell the truth, that'd be nice."

Gaeta glared at him. " Do you really not know?"

Lee leaned over the table. " Answer the question, Felix."

" You mean why didn't I didn't I tell the Old Man that his best friend, and his pretend daughter tried to execute me? And that your pal Kara still wanted to kill me even after finding out that she'd still be some Cylon's sex toy if I hadn't risked my life to get those codes?" Gaeta was nearly spitting from anger. " Because the Old Man wouldn't have done a thing. I respect your father, Lee. In most ways, he's a good man, and I'm here alive because of him, but there's no way he would have done anything to Col. Tigh or to Kara Thrace. They're his family, and I am not, and we all understand that there's a pecking order and what our place is. That's why Lt. Palladino got blamed for the Gideon Massacre, that's why Col. Tigh is still the XO after going on a two month bender." Gaeta smirked at him. " It's why you were made commander of the Pegasus after you openly committed mutiny. Amongst other things."

" It's why you're not in the brig for attempted murder," Lee said, his anger rising.

" Yes," Gaeta said angrily," and would you like to bet on how quickly I would have been executed if it had been you I stabbed, and not someone the Admiral despised? I know my place. If it had been someone like you or Tigh, I'd still be jail. For that matter, do you think I've just been having fun the last ten years? That I was just amusing myself, having a great time at your expense?"

~*~

Helo watched the exchange nervously. He wondered if Lee realized he was about to start the fight that they had been told to avoid. With Felix Gaeta, a nice guy generally, who had flipped out pretty extravagantly not that long ago. That wouldn't go over well with their hosts at all.

Especially since Gaeta had a point. " I don't think," he said softly, putting a hand on Lee's knee under the table, " That anyone thinks that you were having fun."

" Is everything all right?" Everyone turned. An older black woman, wearing a large brightly colored hat stood by their table. " And would anyone like a drink?"

Gaeta stood up suddenly, unclenching his fists. " I can't," he said, his face losing the angry caste it had taken on, replaced, Helo realized, by exhaustion. " This wasn't a good idea. I've been up since about two this morning and I have briefings and meetings all day tomorrow. I'll see you guys tomorrow." With that he walked off.

" What about you folks?" The woman smiled. " I'm Guinan by the way, the bartender. Do you have something in mind, or should I surprise you?" She looked them over. " I'll surprise you."

Lee waited until she walked away to speak. " Do you both agree with Gaeta? That the Admiral wouldn't have done anything because he likes Kara and Tigh more than he likes Gaeta?"

Helo hesitated. Clearly Lee had never really considered it, and Helo didn't consider himself the best person to point it out. At the same time… " Lee, Gaeta showed up for work covered with bruises. He also showed up on the medical list because four days after the exodus, he somehow managed to get three ribs broken, with no explanation. The Admiral never asked me one question about it, and at the time, I was the XO. And you'll notice that I'm not the XO now."

He wasn't upset about that, not really. It was enjoyable work, but he was just as happy flying a Raptor. What bothered him was that Tigh was still a drunk, and being tortured by Cylons hadn't improved the man's disposition at all. " Once the President gave amnesty to everyone, there was no point in saying anything, but honestly, no, I don't think the Admiral would have done anything to Kara or Tigh. He never did anything before."

Lee stood up, and Helo was pleased that the man looked a little calmer. " I think I'm going to go to my fancy quarters and remind myself that things could be a lot worse."

" So…" Dee said as Lee walked away, " was this as awkward as possible?"

" I think we're the sane ones." Helo said after a moment.

Dee shook her head. " There's something wrong. I would have thought Felix would have been a little more happy. He gets to go home." She sighed. " He's my friend, Helo, but I can't help but be a little jealous. He's getting everything I wanted, to go home, to see his family."

" Maybe that's why he's unhappy," chimed in a new voice. It was Guinan again, and she pulled up a chair. " Here's your drinks. It seemed like a pina colada type of night. You've never considered that? I haven't really had a chance to meet Lt. Cmdr. Gaeta, but he strikes me as the type to take everything to heart. A worrier. The sort that might feel bad over every mistake he makes, and maybe never considers that mistakes sometimes happen. Am I getting close? You should try the pina colada."

Helo did. It was sweet and milky, with a surprising alcoholic burn. Like one of the fancy Picon drinks the Cloud Nine used to serve, but with unusual rich flavors. Dee also sipped her drink, but she was nodding along to Guinan.

" Felix has always been like that." Dee said. " He never said it, but I know he felt awful about… some of the things that happened. But why wouldn't he be happy to get home?"

" You know, he was with your people for a long time. He made a life for himself. Made friends, good ones I suspect." Guinan smiled secretively. " Losing every single tie to your past is hard. I've done it. You've done it. Your friend has done it twice. Three times really if you count coming back to us. That's not easy at all. Ten years is a long time and things change." She stood up. " If you folks need anything while you're here, you come see me. Tell your friend who left too. I expect him to at least try one of my drinks."

" I didn't think of it that way," Dee said quietly. Helo nodded. He hadn't really considered it from any angle other than just how happy Felix Gaeta should be. It hadn't occurred to him until that moment that Felix had lost everything. His family, his past, he had needed to lie about it all, and create a completely new life. And then lose it again.

It was a hell of a lot easier being the ship's official toasterfrakker. And that was still pretty damn hard

Chapter Text

She wasn't surprised to find Gaeta in the briefing room half an hour before it was supposed to start. He was like that, thorough and prepared. " You better be ready, Lt. Cmdr Gaeta," Dee said with mock seriousness as she entered the briefing room. " Or else the colonel will have your ass."

He chuckled as he looked up from the padd he had been typing into. " You know? I can honestly say… I miss Col. Tigh about this much." He held up his fingers with just a tiny space between his thumb and index finger.

" Really? I thought it was this much," and she made the same gesture except that she put her fingers even closer together. She took a seat beside him. He looked tired, she thought, more tired than he should if his bed was as comfortable as hers had been. " I knew you'd be here early. I'm… sorry that last night was… awkward."

Felix shrugged. " You shouldn't apologize. I should apologize. I'm sure that everyone just wanted to unwind and I threw a childish fit at your husband."

" Lee and I divorced. It finalized about four weeks ago but we haven't exactly… had a party to celebrate, if you know what I mean. So you didn't throw a fit at my husband. And you didn't throw a fit." She put her hand over his, stopping his keying and forcing him to look at her. " All you did was say what we all have thought. You know how much I respect the Admiral. I do, and I'm not positive that he would have done nothing if you had told him what had happened… But I know he wouldn't have put either Kara or Tigh in the brig."

The admiral would have dressed them both down in private. Harshly, Dee was certain of that, and no doubt both would have felt Bill Adama's fists. Tyrol and Seelix would have both had some brig time, but not a lot. The two civilians involved would have been jailed and then thrown into the population, or just pitched onto one of the lesser ships if the President insisted on real amnesty.

Which still made Felix's point to Lee valid. Because if anything like that had happened to Lee, the best all six could have hoped for was a moment or two to pray before they were executed.

Felix looked at her intently, and his hand gripped hers warmly. " I'm sorry. I know you two were trying to work it out."

"It's for the best," she said, meaning it, possibly for the first time. Deciding to divorce Lee had been hard, but it was the best decision for her life. He was a good man who liked her, but didn't love her. She didn't hate Lee. Lee was still her friend. But he wasn't her lovematch and coming to terms with that was hard. She looked around the room, a fairly typical briefing room for the Enterprise. " So what's this briefing about?"

Felix shrugged. " It's basically a question and answer session. So that the people going over to the Galactica don't behave rudely or say things that are inappropriate. Plus if they have questions that are out of the ordinary, we can answer them ahead of time so that they don't come off rude or ignorant."

" It can't be that different," she said with a laugh. " Once you get past how its more crowded and dirtier, and how bad the food is, what's left to ask about?" The Galactica wasn't even that bad, compared to some of the other ships.

" Where they'll be staying, what they'll be expected to do. Things they might see, practices that will be unfamiliar." Felix leaned back in his chair. " Stupid things… like paper with eight corners not four."

" Why would paper have four corners?" Dee asked after a moment. She hadn't seen much paper on the Enterprise but they seemed overly fond of rectangles.

" Why should paper have eight corners?" Felix countered, a slight grin on his face. She knew that look, that smug, amused look that he had when he found something funny.

"All right, why?" Because now she was certain he was amused.

" I have no idea." Felix said. " I was hoping you knew. I could never find out. I'm sure it's something innocuous, possibly a superstition or just some odd thing. You should see the old style computer keyboards that were designed originally to keep people from typing too fast."

" A superstition?" She didn't get angry, because it was Felix and she knew him too well to think he was insulting her, but still, she heard the superstition nonsense about Sagiterron beliefs too much to let it pass. " You make it sound like we're primitive."

" Dee, everyone has superstitions." Felix rolled his eyes at her. " You want to see? Ask people where deck thirteen is on this ship."

" What do you mean?" Because it sounded odd. " This ship has to have a thirteenth deck."

" It's never called the thirteenth deck," Felix said, nodding his head sagely. " The Enterprise is an Earth based ship and follows certain archaic Earth customs. The number 13 is unlucky. While obviously there is a thirteenth deck, it's never called Deck 13. It's always the maintenance deck or the engine deck, or some other name, but never Deck 13. It's a superstition, and it's a strong one, and no one likes to admit it but trust me, no one will admit that the ship has a thirteenth deck." He grinned. " It's all over. Most tall buildings skip between the twelfth and fourteenth floor. And hotels don't usually have a Room 13."

" Why? Why is thirteen unlucky?" It was funny. Especially considering how unintentionally condescending some of the Starfleet people could be.

" You have to go back a long ways in our history. It's mostly religious in origin." Felix went back to his computer padd.

" I thought Earth didn't believe in religion any more." She didn't consider herself religious, religion was one of the things that kept the average Sagiterron mired in superstitious beliefs and archaic convictions, but she also didn't much like the rather superior attitude that she sensed coming from the Federation.

Felix smiled. " Dee… We mostly gave it up because we had so many, most of our wars were being fought over whose version of god was right. That is one thing the Twelve Colonies can always say, you don't fight wars over what way to pray to Athena is more appropriate."

"That's… bizarre ." It felt good though, to talk with Felix in a way that was comfortable. It was getting easier, especially after she had time to consider the bartender's words from the night before. Felix did have a life in the colonies, and close friends and he had been a member of the Twelve Colonies for a long time. She had thought about it before she had gone to sleep, that he had been the same age as she was now when he ended up on Caprica. Ten years was a long time. People changed. Even in the last four years, since the colonies were destroyed, she knew she had changed. She wasn't the same person that had enlisted in the Colonial fleet out of idealistic patriotism. She had seen things, done things that made her a much different woman than the young girl she had been just four years earlier.

And the people in Starfleet were different. Different beyond not being exhausted, or dirty, or half crazy from memories they couldn't escape. It wasn't just having nice things either, that she was certain of, although she did think that most of them were soft. They reminded her of Felix, but didn't. Because Felix was…somewhere in between. A different sort of man than the average officer on the Galactica, she had always thought that. Not the first person she thought of for a fight, or a mission, but not the last either. And he had lived on New Caprica under Cylon rule, under their eyes every day, and he had played a deadly game of cat and mouse with the Cylons, and played it so well that neither side had suspected him. It took steel to fight the Cylons face to face, she knew that from experience, and how much more did it take to bring a Cylon coffee and bide time until the opportunity came, knowing that everyone would hate you until they found out what you were really doing? It was a hard path, and a clever one, and she doubted that anyone else would ever have considered it. She didn't doubt that the people in Starfleet were brave, but she already had the sense that as a group they rather liked talking more than doing.

Felix Gaeta was not the same man that had left Earth ten years ago. Maybe he wasn't Caprican or a Twelfth Colonist in the strictest sense, but even the strictest of the Geminons considered outcasts from other tribes one of the people after five years. So maybe he wasn't happy. She wondered suddenly if he even knew any of the people on the Enterprise from before. Starfleet sounded larger than the Colonial fleet. None of her friends from Basic had been assigned to the Galactica, and that had been hard. Harder after the Cylon attack, knowing that everyone, her family and her friends, were gone. If a miracle somehow took back to her family and friends, she wouldn't be the same person either. " Is there anyone on this ship that… you knew before? I mean… Starfleet seems pretty big so I wondered if you knew anyone here."

After a moment, he shrugged. " I wasn't expecting to know anyone but yes. A friend of mine… Ironically he's in the group going over to the Galactica in the exchange."

" Are you all right? Is it ok here? For you?" Because, while she understood that it was hard to adjust, she also could see how worried he was.

He looked at her, and then smiled, but it wasn't a happy look. " Ever hear the saying about when you get everything you want, it almost always is in the worst possible way?" He gripped her hand gently. " I might be court-martialed for bringing you here. Almost everyone I know in the fleet is angry with me, and everyone here…. Everyone here thinks I'm depressed, maybe crazy, and possibly suicidal."

" Well…" She tried to think of something to say. " I tried to be ok about how you stabbed Baltar since he's a bastard that I hate, but when they had you tranked up afterwards, and we were walking in the hallway and you started going on about the Admiral and the President being intimate…. That's how I knew you had really lost your mind."

It was comical, to see his jaw drop. " I did what?"

" We had an extensive conversation where you suggested that President Roslin was frakking the Admiral. Then you pretty much went into hysterics giggling like a little girl." It had been funny, although she had been worried that she was going to find Felix dead in his bunk from an overdose. He had bounced back, but for a while she had been worried.

" Would you believe I don't remember that?" He looked embarrassed.

" Easily. You were more hopped up than President Roslin during her " I see the twelve serpents of Pythia" phase. Remind me to tell you what else you did."

" You are lying," he insisted, his voice taking on a teasing tone.

" It's a good thing we're here and not on the Galactica. There's witnesses there." It was good to see him relax, Dee thought as a few Starfleet officers began to file in.

Chapter Text

The problem, Lee Adama thought darkly as the Starfleet officers peppered them with inane questions about the Galactica, was that he couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't quite right. He wasn't mad about what Gaeta had said the night before, not any more. With some thought, he could see where Gaeta was coming from. Felix Gaeta had made the decision to be silent after almost being murdered, and after the president had granted amnesty to everyone. It was understandable that the man thought complaining was pointless, and with the situation being what it was, it was even understandable that he would still think that way. Being the senior watch officer, and bearer of bad news from the XO and admiral, hadn't made Felix popular before New Caprica, and being Baltar's presidential aide hadn't helped. He could admit, he had only tolerated Gaeta after New Caprica, even after the truth had come out because he was friends with Kara and it was easier being on her good side.

So he could put it in perspective, even if he wasn't happy about it. Gaeta had been hiding, and based on what Lee had already seen, Gaeta had been hiding a lot more than just a murder attempt. It would have been nice, good, if Gaeta had not mentioned what had happened, but if the man had been living in fear for the last year, on top of keeping a huge secret, then Lee could understand why. No doubt the last place Felix Gaeta wanted to return to was the Battlestar Galactica. Not when he had the option of staying on the Enterprise and not have everyone glare at him. Or try to kill him.

And, that wasn't what had Lee's nerves ringing through the briefing. The questions the people had were weird, and he was starting to see just how different they were. " Yes, all the bathing facilities are used by both men and women. Why wouldn't they be?"

Beside him, Gaeta set down his padd. " It's very uncommon in Earth descended cultures for non related men and women to share bathing facilities, or group quarters. Males and females are generally kept separate. Group showering for example? Is considered unusual."

It was funny that Gaeta was embarrassed. More funny that Lee could see most of the Starfleet people that were human were blushing from embarrassment as well. These people are smart, Lee thought tiredly, but soft beyond belief. " You never seemed uncomfortable."

" That's part of being in Starfleet," Cmdr. Riker intoned. The bearded man looked over the assembled group. Lee leaned back in his chair and set down his own computer padd. He could feel a lecture coming on. Riker seemed like a good man, but Lee had already picked up on the man's blowhard tendencies. Still, the man was the ship's XO and they were on the Enterprise to learn, and he could admit to being curious about where Riker was going to go.

Riker stood up and gestured expansively. " Lt. Cmdr. Gaeta did exactly what a Starfleet officer is supposed to do when dropped into a society that has not made a first contact. He kept his true identity a secret and learned to blend in, and not try to change the society he found himself in." There were plenty of nods to that. Lee had taken the time to read up on the Prime Directive the night before, and he didn't quite agree with it, but he was surrounded. There was no point in arguing about the lives that could have been saved. It was clear from the reading that Starfleet and the Federation had let entire civilizations die rather than give assistance to worlds they deemed uncivilized. If not worse. He was beginning to suspect that the information he had access to was limited. It was understandable, he was certain that the admiral was not going to hand over the Galactica logs to the newcomers.

" Any words of wisdom, before we return to questions," Riker said to Gaeta. It was also irritating, Lee realized suddenly, to be treated as though Felix Gaeta was ranked above him. Which was part of what had set him off the night before, and was something he needed to apologize about, but it was still irksome. He had to remind himself that it wasn't intentional. Gaeta was the Starfleet officer who had the most knowledge about the 12 Colonies, it was understandable that he would be deferred to. And even Gaeta seemed uncomfortable with his relatively high rank. Lee wasn't positive of the details but it sounded like Gaeta had been promoted purely because he had gone missing, and that was an easy way to breed resentment. There were still any number of people in the fleet that thought he had been promoted because of who his father was.

Which only added to the reasons why he needed to apologize to Felix.

Gaeta looked at the group of people. " Just be aware that the Galactica is a forty five year old ship that was being decommissioned the day the Cylons invaded the 12 Colonies. It's not representative of the technological level the colonies were at, and most of these people have spent the last five years running and barely surviving."

A fair statement, and a kinder one than Lee expected. After the incident with the Circle had come out, he had remembered a comment Tyrol had made, that it was surprising that Gaeta hadn't simply stolen a Raptor and run. It was surprising. Especially considering how touchy the Federation seemed to be about interfering with other cultures.

The questions continued, mostly revolving around courtesies. It was interesting to listen to. Apparently women had held a lesser place in Earth society for a lengthy stretch of time, and while considered lower, there were many extensive courtesies extended to women. Women could fight each other, although it was considered low class, and men could fight, but a man striking a woman was considered offensive. That was different, and good to know. He personally didn't plan on getting into any fights with anyone, but he could see it causing a bad misunderstanding, especially with women like Kara. It also made Gaeta's reluctance to fight, and his often excessive politeness make more sense. Still, the differences weren't huge. The Starfleet people were less religious, and polite, and Lee figured everyone in the fleet was too grateful to pick fights over minor courtesies. His earlier thoughts, that Starfleet personnel were sharp and chosen for intelligence, was born out by the questions. It was definitely a step up from a mission briefing on the Galactica.

"So this word… frak, that we aren't supposed to use," one of the older women asked. " Does it mean what I think it means?" Most of the human officers looked amused. Worf looked bored and the two Vulcans were inscrutable.

" Yes," Gaeta said, again looking embarrassed. " It's a reference to intercourse, and it's used in a nearly identical fashion as a popular vulgarity. It's a bit more socially acceptable but it's still considered inappropriate in polite company."

"Right…" Dee grinned. " For example, it's really inappropriate to shout this word at Colonel Tigh when you're unhappy with his orders. Right, Cmdr. Gaeta?"

"Yes…" Gaeta said, obviously struggling not to laugh. " That's a great example of when not to use the word frak. Other examples… Really just because you hear someone using it, that doesn't mean it's fine. You're better off not using it."

There were a few other questions, but Lee found himself listening with interest as one of the men who had been identified as a medical doctor raised his hand. " I was wondering, Cmdr. Gaeta, if you had noticed any Palamas indicators in the population, considering the likelihood of Pollux interference…." The man's words trailed off as the feeling in the room got distinctively chilly. Lee schooled his features to not react. Judging by Riker's reaction, and by Gaeta's, the man had said something important. It tickled something in the back of his mind, something that Gaeta had said but he couldn't place it.

Gaeta eyed the man darkly. " I don't have the training. It would take genetic testing of the population. There were certainly none of the obvious indicators, and you might want to reread the last two pages of the briefing I prepared, Lt. Svenson."

Which was interesting because the last two pages of the report Lee had read the night before was a thorough rehash of the rank differences and protocols. There was nothing about genetic issues. He could see just by the sudden tension that whatever it was, it wasn't supposed to be discussed.

"Well," Riker said after a long moment, " We need to head to the shuttle bay to catch our runabout. Major Adama, Captain Agathon, Lt. Dualla, I appreciate you taking the time to brief us, and I hope that you find the next few days enlightening." He shook each of their hands, and then shook Gaeta's. " An excellent briefing, Mr. Gaeta. I know it's early for you to be considering your next assignment, but I hope you'll at least consider requesting the Enterprise."

Gaeta nodded, although Lee had the impression that he was rather uncomfortable. The crowd of people quickly filed out. Lee rose to his feet and looked down. His computer padd was right next to Gaeta's and he flipped them around. It would make Gaeta seek him out, so he could apologize. It also might let him look up a few things.

" Well, I hope you three have a good time," Gaeta said as he picked up Lee's padd. " I'd stay to talk but… I'm already late for something." He turned to Lee. " Maj. Adama, I wanted to apologize…"

Lee picked up Gaeta's padd. " You don't have anything to apologize for. We both lost our tempers, it happens. And I think we have someplace we need to be as well. Something called the Holodeck?" He didn't know what that was supposed to be but he assumed it would be interesting.

" And then the cartography lab." Helo added. He sounded less than excited. Lee wasn't sure he blamed the man. At the same time, it wasn't as though there weren't worse chores.

Gaeta smiled slightly. " You should see if they'll let you take out a runabout. Those are new. And fast. They're like Raptors except that they have phasers."

And that, Lee thought, was another interesting thing to look up.

Chapter Text

Admiral Bill Adama had to admit, the landing bay hadn't looked this sharp in years. Tyrol's crew had cleaned the place up, pulling an all nighter to make the landing bay look acceptable for dignitaries. He hadn't ordered it, because several of the Starfleet people including Picard had already seen the Galactica. His people worked hard, keeping the fleet going, and years ago he had decided that spotless floors weren't that important while they were running for their lives. Plus, they only had so much soap and cleaning materials. Still, he could admit, it pleased him to know that his people had gone to such pains unasked. Along with the Colonies, they had lost almost everything. Save their pride. Once he had made the announcement that they would be hosting twenty Starfleet officers, there had been a flurry of people working all over the ship.

He hoped they wouldn't be disappointed. He had a feeling that the Starfleet officers were going to be horrified at the condition of the fleet. Laura had described the Enterprise and he had no doubt that the Enterprise and its crew was a top of the line ship. The Galactica was a damn fine ship, but she was old, almost forty five years old, and the people from Starfleet were already much more advanced to begin with.

Beside him was Saul Tigh on the left, and Jack Cottle on the right. Further along the receiving line, he had Captain Thrace, Captain Kelly, Lt. Agathon, and then a group of junior officers and slightly higher ranked majors and captains from the engineering and support staff. Chief Tyrol was the senior petty officer and his people looked young and extremely tidy.

With Gaeta gone, and Lee, Dualla and Helo essentially gone for the time being, his command staff was sadly bare. Worse, he could see any number of men and women that should have been promoted and hadn't been because of the holocaust. Kelly should have made major, Gaeta had been waiting for the decommissioning to accept a promotion to captain, and Sharon… Sharon Agathon was still a lieutenant. The petty officers were equally low ranked. By right of time in grade, Cally Tyrol shouldn't be wearing a specialist uniform, she should be a petty officer. He added promotions to his increasing list of things to do. Promotions and awards, because there were any number of men and women who deserved it, and they finally had time to think about such things.

Of course, the Galactica was still dead in space, and he was absolutely certain that the Cylons were tracking them. There had been lulls before. Captain Picard insisted that Cylon technology simply wouldn't stand against Federation weapons, and he didn't disbelieve the man, but the waiting made it worse. The waiting, and the knowing that it was just a little while longer until the fleet was safe. He had read over the Federation offer. It was generous, and while he expected the usual quibbling from the Quorum, they had the enjoyable task of picking a new home from several choices, all of which were better worlds than New Caprica had been. He was just glad they had something to keep themselves occupied with, since they were generally a pain otherwise. He glanced over at Roslin, who was talking to the Quorum members that were attending and the reporters. He was still insisting that Vice President Zarek and half of the Quorum be kept off the Galactica. It was overly cautious, but it hurt no one to be cautious. And it kept Zarek out of the loop and off the wireless, which was a plus for everyone. She caught his look and walked over.

" The reporters want a word or two with an actual Starfleet officer," she said as she took a place between him and Tigh. " I was assuring them that Commander Riker had already agreed to a conference with them at some point, and that the details of the Federation offer was going out today. Wireless and paper copies for each ship." She took a deep breath and then smiled. " It's exciting, don't you think?"

He almost laughed. It was exciting, that was the truth. Exciting and good news for a change. It had never occurred to him, growing up as a child on Caprica, that his life would lead him to Earth, commanding a fleet of refugees. Meeting aliens that weren't Cylons… It was like a book, one of the books that Zak had liked so much as a child. " They're here," he said sternly, covering his own amusement as the runabout carefully maneuvered on the deck.

Commander Riker was the first to step out of the runabout and he was quickly followed by an assortment of men and women, all looking bright eyed and fresh, even the older ones. He looked carefully at the people. Picard had made it clear that the Enterprise had non-human officers and Adama noticed the different ones almost immediately. Human appearing at a first but then he spotted the pointed ears and the slightly off skin tone. More golden, and with the arched eyebrows and lack of expression, he figured they were the Vulcans that Roslin had mentioned. Not so scary looking, he thought as he looked more closely. He could tell the press corps and most of the assembled crew hadn't even noticed. He had looked at pictures, pictures he had pulled from one of the computer pads he'd been given and Vulcans were pretty similar to humans in appearance. People weren't going to be scared by antennae or aliens that looked like piles of rock.

But they were going to be scared by the last person that exited the runabout.

"What in the name of the gods?" Tigh muttered.

" Be quiet," Bill hissed. He wasn't exactly happy with Tigh to begin with. The amnesty had to count, or else a lot of people would become targets, but he wasn't ready to forgive Tigh for leading the charge. And he didn't need the commentary, not with something that looked like a monster standing on the ship's deck. " What is that?" he asked Roslin quietly.

" That's a Klingon," Roslin said, her smile growing as the press corps gasped in shock.

~*~

It smelled. Barclay knew that they weren't supposed to react or comment, but the Galactica smelled like a gym locker. A dirty gym locker where someone had left wet towels to sit. It was dank, and humid and he was certain he could smell mold underneath everything else. This is why water showers are bad in spaceships, he thought as he clutched his small bag close and followed the man ahead of him through the poorly lit corridors. No matter how good the reclamation system was, there was always water escaping the system. On an older ship, and even by Colonial standards the Galactica was old, the water collected and led to… issues. "Remember what you were told," Reg told himself as he suppressed a shudder. These people were making do with next to nothing. Even older styled Starfleet ships, the early ones, had the water problem, and once the problem was noticeable, the ship was usually retrofitted and repaired. With regular water showers, the Galactica was ten times more likely to have a mold problem to begin with, and then the lowered hygiene standards… They had soap rationing, and clothes and towels and bedding were washed on a schedule that was not even close to his usual preference. Felix had told him that things hadn't been quite so bad at first, that before the Cylon invasion, living on the Galactica was like living on one of the Fleet's museum ships. Pleasant enough if a little primitive. The crowding on all of the ships led to shortages and restrictions. The Enterprise was more advanced, and the supplies would have lasted longer, but if twice the normal number of people were crammed aboard, the conditions would deteriorate. It could be worse.

It was hard to keep saying that when they arrived at their quarters. A bare long room with benches and beds stacked one atop another. Racks, they're called, he thought as he set his small bag down on one of the beds. This was all the room they get, and they lived better than the majority of people in the fleet. The bed was made, with clean if worn sheets, and a blanket, and he could see the built in shelves had been scoured clean. Clean is nice, he thought.

"It's a little spartan," Commander Riker intoned quietly to the group of officers, " but we are guests, and our hosts are trying very hard to be hospitable. So let's all get settled. Admiral Adama advised me that he has assigned each of you an officer to shadow and to spend time with. Get your things put away and then we'll head to the briefing room where you'll meet your sponsor officers. Dr. Morten, you know where the sickbay is, and Dr. Cottle has one of his assistants to take you and Dr. T'kil there. Everyone else, pick a bed.

Reg nodded. There was really no rush to unpack so he simply left his bag on the bed, and everyone else did the same. They all followed Riker out into the corridor and down the hallway into what looked like a class room. They all quickly took seats. In a matter of seconds, the colonial officers poured into the room. They looked nervous, he thought, nervous and tired and mostly very, very young.

Admiral Adama shook Riker's hand. " I hope your quarters were found acceptable."

"We appreciate the opportunity to come here," Riker said, smiling slightly.

Adama nodded and took up a position in front of the lectern. " I must start by thanking all of you for coming. The people of the 12 Colonies will always remember that our first contact with the United Federation of Planets was with the crew of the Enterprise, and that we were met with dignity, respect and generosity of spirit." He paused, and looked at the mass of people with a steely eyed gaze. It was, Reg realized, the look of a man with an iron will. He had wondered before, why did Gaeta held the Admiral in such respect despite some of the things he had heard, and now he was beginning to see why. Adama had the look of a man that would personally haul his people from the fiery depths of hell if it came to that.

" I have assigned each of you to one of my officers. They'll be showing you around, and showing you how we do things. Commander Riker, I thought you'd appreciate working with my XO, Colonel Tigh."

"That would be excellent," Riker said.

Adama pushed up his glasses, and Reg wondered about that as well. Glasses were almost unheard of in the Federation. Adama looked at Worf. " Since we currently don't have a tactical officer, Mr. Worf, I decided that you'll be with me."

An odd choice, Barclay thought, especially since it was more appropriate from a rank stand point for Adama to take Riker. It puzzled him, so much so that he almost didn't hear his own assignment.

"Lt. Barclay?" He raised his hand nervously. Admiral Adama's eyes seemed to bore into him. " You'll be with Captain Thrace, the acting CAG."

Thrace stepped forward, one of the young looking female officers. She looked… angry. Angry and already annoyed.

The groups quickly broke up into pairs and he made his way to where Thrace was standing. She eyed him. " So you're going to follow me around? What was your name? Lt. Barclay?"

" People… call me Reg. Or Lt. Barclay." He held out his hand, willing it to not shake. She was pretty, and obviously confident, and that always made him nervous.

" Reg…" She shook his hand and smiled darkly. " You can call me Kara. Or Starbuck. You're supposed to follow me through my typical day, right?"

" Yes," he said. " To… see how you do things…."

Kara patted him on the back and began to pull him out of the room. " Reg, I normally start the day by frakking my husband, but you're lucky. He's not free until later. So let's go do something else I do in a typical day. We're going to Joe's to play cards and get drunk. How does that sound?"

" It's a little early in the morning…" Reg said hesitantly.

"It's never too early to drink and play cards." Kara winked at him. " Now come on. We have to start now if we're going to be drunk by lunch."

Chapter Text

It was getting hard to not just goggle like an awestruck little boy. Lee was amazed, there was no way he could deny it. Cmdr. Troi had taken them all over the ship, a more thorough tour since they weren't pressed for time, she had explained. They could have spent all day in the Holodeck. The simulated reality experience had been amazing. Better than the Cloud Nine's garden, and the Cloud Nine had been a top of the line pleasure cruiser. But they did have a purpose, being on the Enterprise, and that was to see how Starfleet officers worked. Troi seemed aware of that as well, and made a point of describing how they could use the Holodecks in their free time, and with eight hour shifts the norm on the Enterprise, they had plenty of free time.

He had spent the last four hours with Lt. Cmdr. Geordi LaForge. Normally he didn't care for the technical aspects of ship engineering, but there simply weren't too many choices for a Viper pilot on a ship with no fighters. LaForge was interesting anyway, and wasn't put off by what Lee assumed were easy questions. Lee wasn't an engineer by Colonial standards but he did find ship engineering interesting. LaForge was odd to look at, but it was easy to understand why the man chose to wear a metal band over his blind eyes in order to see. It was also something good to report back on. There were blind people in the fleet, and LaForge had quickly pointed out that the technology he used was only because his problem was quite rare, that most people were able to get more normal looking replacements.

Helo had gone with a lieutenant who worked with the matter transporters and Dee had decided to shadow an officer in communications. He hoped they both had kept their eyes open. The Enterprise was different, it was very different in how it worked, but the essential structure of the crew was very similar to the Galactica. Lee didn't doubt for an instant that the crew people were loyal to Starfleet and to Picard to a fault.

But now, with the first shift over, he had about an hour before there was anyplace he needed to be. So he was in his quarters with time to look through Gaeta's padd. It wasn't that he didn't trust their hosts, he just couldn't shake the feeling that certain things were being avoided and not mentioned. He didn't understand why. He understood the basic concern, that the Twelve Colonies were already a shattered society, and that making what the Federation called first contact could sometimes deal a death blow to a society's well cherished beliefs, but he didn't see the concern. That Earth was much more advanced was really something that the colonists considered a blessing. The 13th Colony had luck. The fact that the Federation included so many non-humans… it was shocking but not nearly as Caprica being nuked by Cylons in a surprise sneak attack. The people could handle it. They were tough.

Gaeta clearly had a much busier schedule than they did, Lee thought as he looked through the man's day planner. Briefings to give, meetings with specialists, appointments with a counselor…. Lee almost snickered and then stopped himself. Starfleet did seem a little soft in comparison, but the truth was that the Galactica could have used a therapist. Gaeta seemed very busy for someone who had just rejoined Starfleet. Then again, Lee mused, the man is the perfect source of information. Not only is he intimately familiar with how the 12 Colonies and the fleet work, he could compare it to Starfleet and the Federation in a knowledgeable way. Sure enough, a quick look at requests and reports indicated that Gaeta was up to his eyes in questions and was working on multiple reports. Reports on the Cylons, reports on the structure of colonial government, and a lot of esoteric topics that Lee didn't quite follow. He mentally jotted one down though, because it sounded so odd. Gaeta was working on some sort of research on something called Stonehenge.

But prying into Gaeta's schedule wasn't why he had swiped the padd and he quickly moved on. The first thing he wanted to look up was the term "Palamas indicators". The medical doctor made sound like it was something obvious and everyone had seemed annoyed that the topic had been raised. He typed in the term and in seconds, text scrolled on the small screen.

Palamas indicators are a catch all term for the mutations caused by humans inter-breeding with the lifeforms of Pollux IV. While such offspring will have the general appearance of the human parent, most will show some signs of genetic enhancement. The first identified hybrid, Apollonia Palamas, the child of Lt. Carolyn Palamas of Starfleet, is currently 102 years old and has the appearance and health of a woman of 45. This trait is passed down and is currently being observed in other offspring. Other notable traits include high intelligence, enhanced senses, some minor psionic powers, and a typically above average appearance. Observation indicates that there may be a tendency to produce more females than males as only the third generation hase produced males in significant numbers. Both male and female share enhancements, including a rudimentary organ similar to the one observed in the Pollux lifeform known as Apollo…

Lee stopped. Apollo, of course, was one of the Lords of Kobol. But the article was obviously describing him as an alien life form. Picard had told them that Earth did at one point worship the same gods. He looked up Apollo and Pollux together.

Apollo is one of the gods of the Greek pantheon. Current research indicates that at some point alien life forms masqueraded as the Greek pantheon gods, using advanced technologies to create an impression of god-like powers for a lengthy period of time. It is unknown where these lifeforms originated from. One of these lifeforms was found on Pollux IV, calling himself Apollo and making a convincing case that he had spent several hundred years interfering with Earth's Hellenic culture. Further research was impossible as Apollo transcended or died after his defeat at the hands of Captain James T. Kirk of Starfleet. Apollo did impregnate Lt. Carolyn Palamas and there is some indication that at least some of the lifeform's abilities have been passed on to the next generation (see Palamas indicators). From genetic sampling of Earth and Earth descended populations, it is now clear that at least some of Apollo's claims were true. While the enhancing effects fade over generations, there are humans alive today who bear traces of Apollo's DNA. Many theorize that this interbreeding is responsible in part for the legends of demi-gods such as Heracles and Theseus.

Lee stopped reading. He knew the stories of Heracles and Theseus. The 13th Colony had at one point worshipped the same gods, he had known that. Captain Picard had mentioned it. So that wasn't a surprise but… So many of the scriptures mentioned the gods living among men and taking wives and husbands. The doctor had been suggesting that people in the fleet might have genetic signs that they had interbred with alien life forms masquerading as gods. Which meant the gods… were a lie. He wasn't devout, but finding Kobol, finding Athena's tomb had changed his mind about a lot of things. Athena threw herself from a cliff to allow the people to escape, and if he subtracted the flowery language, it was remarkably similar to the description of Apollo transcending or dying.

That was upsetting. He could understand why the Starfleet people were trying to be discreet about it because it was startling. It was startling to him and he didn't consider himself religious. The Gemonese in particular were going to have a huge problem with it. He supposed that it was fortunate that the Starfleet people weren't blurting that out because it was just… unpleasant to think about. It made their entire way of worship a lie. He was certain that the Gemonese were going to go ballistic over a lot of things, including the reality that humanity had evolved on Earth and not Kobol, but that at least had scientific backup. That the gods simply weren't real, and that it could be proven… It was going to be a problem. A big problem for a lot of people.

But it didn't answer the question of why he had even cared. He knew he had heard something that had triggered his interest but the question was what. He turned his attention back to the padd. It was the word Palamas, he decided. He'd heard it before. And then it flashed on him.

My full name is Felix Spyridon Palamas Gaeta.

Lee's eyes narrowed. He quickly keyed his next question, although he was certain he knew the answer. Felix Gaeta was the grandchild of one Lt. Carolyn Palamas. Which meant that Felix Gaeta was also the grandchild of Apollo, who just might be the same Apollo of the Lords of Kobol.

He took a deep breath and then let it out. It was shocking, but in an odd way it made sense. Gaeta did look much younger than he should, especially considering how the last five years had aged everyone. Gaeta was never sick, even after living on New Caprica, he was one of the only people who had come off the surface without skin problems or open sores. It was just… amazing. Shocking to realize that a man that he had played cards, showered with, planned missions with… wasn't entirely human. And by some in the Fleet, he would be seen as a demigod. A sacred figure at the very least. There was a significant portion of the population that considered President Roslin sent by the gods after all. He chuckled, briefly wondering how Kara would take it... Out of curiosity, he went into classification files. In the Federation, Gaeta was classified as a citizen of Earth and a human hybrid of unknown origins. Human classed for the most part, but there was definitely a distinction made. As near as he could tell from the records, there was a fairly extensive scientific history being kept on the descendents of Carolyn Palamas.

The door chimed. " Come in," he said. He wasn't surprised to see Felix Gaeta stepped into his quarters, holding the padd that Lee had switched out.

" I think we switched pads this morning, sir." Gaeta held out the padd. " I didn't realize it until a little while ago."

Lee handed him the padd and took his. " I notice ours don't seem to have as much access as yours." He kept his tone mild.

Gaeta's eyes narrowed slightly as he exchanged the padd. " I'm not surprised. I'm sure there were restrictions in place. Did you find anything interesting?"

" I found out that you've been lying about a lot, Felix." Lee crossed his arms. " Like how you're not a human being. That your grandfather was some sort of unclassed space alien that liked to masquerade as the god Apollo? Were you ever going to mention this?"

Gaeta took a deep breath and looked down at his feet. Then he looked back up and Lee suddenly realized he wasn't dealing with someone he outranked anymore. " No, Lee. I had no intention of sharing that information, for a variety of reasons. The first reason is because it's my business, my personal family business. And since you're accusing me of lying, I'd like to know when you ever asked me about my family. I don't recall you ever asking me if I was even from Caprica. So spare me the indignation. You and I both know that no one would have believed me anyway. Just like no one would have believed me if I had gone on the wireless and said I was from Earth." He eyed Lee carefully. " So what do you plan to do? Tell everyone? I don't recommend it. If the President accepts the treaty offer, everyone will find out eventually, but it could have unpleasant ramifications. Not for me…. Under Federation law, I can't be discriminated against, and for most practical purposes I'm considered human."

" How nice for you," Lee muttered. " Maybe I should tell everyone."

Gaeta took a seat on the small couch. " Go ahead. I can't stop you. You might want to stop and consider what this revelation might do to your people though."

Lee also took a seat. " What is that supposed to mean?" It meant something. He had the feeling that he was playing with fire suddenly, that Gaeta wasn't talking about any personal abuse he might receive.

" You're not religious. Neither is the Admiral, and deep down, neither is President Roslin." Gaeta leaned back in the small lounge chair. " You're not considering the ramifications. Athena, who threw herself off the cliff to allow the people of the Colonies to escape? Might not have been a god. If you do the research, and the details of the Pollux IV incident with Captain Kirk are available, even a layman can make a pretty good case that the 12 Colonies only exist because of alien interference. Aliens including my grandfather. Or Preservers…. Aliens who transplanted humans from Earth's different cultures, establishing numerous colonies on a lot of different worlds. It's impossible for the 12 Colonies to have developed a culture and language based on Earth's Ancient Hellenic period without assistance. The odds are astronomically against it. Which means most of the scriptures aren't true, in the sense that they aren't about gods. Only really advanced aliens, who posed as such. And we've met quite a few of those, which is among the reasons people on Earth don't worship gods anymore. Some people, mostly the more religious ones, might find it upsetting to discover that their gods aren't real. Some others might find it upsetting that gods have been interbreeding with humans." He chuckled darkly. " Ever read the Scroll of Apollo? You should. It could cause you a lot of problems."

That tickled Lee's memory but he was too overwhelmed by the implications to take that further. Because it suddenly occurred to him how the Gemonese hard liners would take what Gaeta had just said. And the Gemonese weren't the only devout people in the fleet. He didn't even have to think about how many of his friends had become more devout as the journey had progressed. There had been something of a revival after New Caprica. There were a lot of people who would be shocked and horrified to discover that the gods weren't truly divine.

If it were true. There was a chance that it wasn't, after all, that the Apollo of Earth and of Pollux IV wasn't the same as the actual god Apollo. But did he want to take that chance? He understood Gaeta's point, the bell couldn't be unrung. And it was very likely that the treaty would be signed. He had read over the treaty, and he wanted it signed. It was generous and fair, and the people needed a home, and adding any sort of controversy was going to make the process unpleasant. So he didn't plan on saying anything. " So when you said you had good genes…."

" Barring an accident I'll outlive you by at least fifty years." Gaeta said it easily. " Probably longer if my mother is any gauge. She's one hundred and two and she looks like she's in her mid forties. My oldest sister, Sofia, is 63, and she doesn't look that much older than me. I, and my sisters, consistently score in the 99th percentile for intelligence in humans. We all have perfect pitch, perfect recall in visual, auditory, sensory and kinetic tests, and we're all extremely fit, flexible, and stronger than average. And yes, that's one reason I never got into fights. And since you're interested, you might want to look up the Eugenics War so you can have some understanding why my family doesn't insist on being classified as fully human, even though from a medical standpoint we're closer than we need to be." Gaeta stood up. " I don't really care what you do, Lee. I'm not stupid. I know why you, and Dee and Helo were chosen for this mission. You're not likely to disobey the admiral and Dee and Karl are friends of mine. I'm completely aware that most of the people in the fleet think I somehow betrayed them by not mentioning that I was born on Earth, and this little revelation isn't going to help. But it's done. The colonial fleet part of my life is over. The Starfleet part of my life may soon be over too, and I just don't care what you do, Lee. But at least do me the courtesy of not calling me a liar. You never asked, your father never asked, and your pal Kara certainly never asked about my background. Do what you want. It won't be a secret for long anyway."

" I have to think about it." Lee said, after a long moment.

Gaeta went to the door. " I don't care what you do, Lee. Just don't call me a liar." He stopped and turned back, an odd expression on his face. " Give me your padd."

"Why?" Lee said, suddenly nervous. It was technically a rule violation, he was certain, to circumvent the security restrictions on information, and Gaeta had always had a tendency to tattle. He held it out.

Gaeta took it and let rest flat on the palm of his hand, with the buttons and tiny view screen face up. It seemed to suddenly light up, although he knew it could only be keyed from the topside that Gaeta wasn't touching. The little view screen flickered with eerie green lines and symbols and Lee realized with a start that Gaeta was staring at it with a burning intent expression.

An expression he'd seen before. In the CIC during crisis. Sometimes in the lab. After a moment, the greenish caste from the padd faded, and he could see Gaeta relax. Then Gaeta held out the padd to him. " Here," he said curtly. " If you're going to research me, or my family, you might as well have the access you'll need to find out the truth."

" What did you do?" Lee asked.

Gaeta shrugged. " I don't have the powers of a god. And I'm glad I don't because that kind of power is addictive. But… I have talents. Especially with machines." He looked at Lee intently. " I removed the security restrictions. You can look up whatever you want. Feel free to go through my personnel file. Or you could check out my counseling sessions. I'm sure those are recorded. It might be worth a laugh."

And then he was gone, out the door, leaving Lee holding the padd, and wondering just what he had seen. It was familiar, that was the problem. The eerie intent look, the green glow of a computer doing something that… only Gaeta could make it do. He looked down at the padd. I'll skip the personnel files, he decided, but I need to know more. Because it would get out to the people eventually, and the president and his father would need to be able to deal with it.

Chapter Text

" So what do you do, Reg? Reggie? I really don't have to call you Lt. Barclay, do I?" Kara rolled her eyes as she led her sponsored officer into the hallway. It figured that she was stuck with the one that looked like a lost math professor. She figured the Admiral was doing it to punish her.

The Admiral was angry, she had only seen him angrier once. That had been over Zak, and deep down she was glad he wasn't that mad, but it didn't change the fact that she was not currently in the Old Man's good graces. He knew she didn't like this sort of chore. Taking some visiting dignitary on a tour was hardly her idea of good duty. She had been pleased to have been removed from escort duties. Listening to the Starfleet people defend frakking Gaeta… It made her blood boil. She'd read the information that had been put out on the wireless about the treaty. Unlike some, who were too busy falling on their knees to fawn over the Starfleet officers, she had taken the time to read the treaty offer and the information about the United Federation of Planets.

They were cold people, the Federation. They prided themselves on not interfering. She understood it, more than she suspected anyone else did. To them, Gaeta's silence on being from Earth was some sort of noble act. People had died, thousands of them on New Caprica. If people had been given more than scripture that most hadn't believed in before the colonies had been destroyed, they might have voted differently. Gaeta had kept his mouth shut and people had died, and his people thought he had done the right thing. That was all fine for them. They hadn't been on New Caprica.

" People call me Reg," the Starfleet officer said hesitantly. " Do… you prefer… Kara?"

She turned. The guy was nervous like a first year cadet. And the truth was, she'd had a breakfast that morning that included real toast and real butter, and she was stuck with him for at least the day, if not longer. The admiral wouldn't appreciate it if this Reg character complained. Not that he looked like the type to complain. She knew his kind. Nervous, timid, and probably wickedly smart underneath. She could see it. The Gauis Baltar's of the universe were a rare breed. He had been social, charming in a sleazy way, and adored attention. As much as she wanted the bastard dead, she allowed that it was inherently more cruel to lock Baltar in solitary confinement where no one paid attention to him. But it was rare, in her experience, for someone that was truly brilliant to be very social. They were usually like this Reg guy, all twitchy and shy. Which meant that Lee was right about one of his theories, that Starfleet preferred the smart type.

" You can call me Starbuck, Reg." She paused. " Look, do you have orders? Anything in particular you're supposed to do?" Because it wasn't this Reg guy's fault that he was here, and if she didn't assist him, no doubt the Admiral would be even more angry with her.

He twitched nervously. Yes, Kara thought tiredly, this is going to get old. Finally he said, "No… we're not under orders to do certain things. We're supposed to… see how you live, what you do every day. What we can do to help." He paused. " And we're not… we're not supposed to ask about the FTL drive. Because it's part of the treaty negotiations."

"Right…" And suddenly she realized she was totally right. Lt. Reg Barclay of Starfleet was smart, and deep down he wanted to see an FTL drive more than anything. She understood because she was the same way about flying. There was simply no chance that she would have been chosen to go to the Enterprise for a few days, but if she had been chosen, the first thing she would have asked was to take one of their sleek little ships out to see what it could do. So Reg was an engineer, a snipe. Snipes were still people, and for all she knew, the Galactica was the last place Reg Barclay wanted to be. And Sam was waiting, for an appointment that had been scheduled a month before. " And you're here for three days… Tell you what. This time tomorrow, I'm flying a CAP. I can arrange it so you're in the Raptor, and if they happen to use the FTL drive on that patrol… well, that's my call not yours. But today, I think we should be a little more… relaxed. I'll give you a tour, we'll pick up Sam… and we'll have some fun. Do you people play card games?"

"I'm… I like card games." Barclay said. He seemed to relax a little.

" Good! I'll teach you to drink ambrosia, and we'll be good pals. Now we need to find my husband."

~*~

Will Riker was fairly certain that Col. Saul Tigh was drunk. He had read Lt. Cmdr. Gaeta's report with dispassionate eyes, and assumed that the young man was exaggerating the problem. But after watching Tigh for an hour, he had to admit, it seemed pretty clear that Tigh had a drinking problem. He'd caught the man surreptitiously drinking from a flask three times in the last hour. The man was discreet although Riker was fairly certain that no one was unaware of the issue.

On the plus side, Admiral Adama seemed quite pleased with Lt. Worf and Worf likewise seemed taken with the admiral. And considering how intentionally low tech the Galactica was, it was a rather amazing vessel. He had to admit, it was a good thing that Gaeta had admonished them to remember that the Galactica didn't represent the 12 Colonies in technology. In many ways the Galactica was primitive beyond belief. Riker bumped up his estimation of the quality of the crew when he realized that all major ship tasks depended on individual people monitoring and relaying information. Most of the computers were primitive at best. As he watched, a navigation officer took out a large reference book and began plotting. On paper.

That meant that the CIC crew, at least, had to be pretty sharp with some fairly heavy math skills. Sharp and fast, he noted, as Tigh strode over to the hapless officer. A junior grade lieutenant, Riker noted, and nervous and Riker realized suddenly that he was looking at the person who had assumed some of Lt. Cmdr. Gaeta's duties. Tigh slapped his hand down on the console, making the young woman jump. " You have got to be faster, Lt. Alghee! I don't care if we're dead in the water, or if we've got an entire squad of ships ready to defend us. When I ask for jump coordinates, I expect jump coordinates. Is that understood?"

The young lieutenant winced and nodded, and then fled. Tigh threw up his hands and stalked back to the main console. " People are getting slack."

Adama eyed him, looking over the rims of his spectacles. Riker suspected that Adama was annoyed but trying not to show it. " You're spoiled, Saul. When was the last time you did jump coordinates in your head?"

Tigh snickered. " A long time ago. And I was never that good at it. But we're not out of the woods. It's her job now. She's got to learn."

And that was an interesting dynamic. Riker wondered if it was intentional. William Adama exuded an air of coldness but Riker could see that it was mostly for show. The man was obviously concerned about the well being of the crew. He allowed Tigh to be the bad guy to the crew. Which was fine as long as it didn't get out of control, and he could see where a man like Tigh could get out of control. From listening to the exchange officers on the Enterprise, from reading Felix Gaeta's carefully polite reports, and from his own observation, Colonel Saul Tigh was a scary wild card to the crew of the Galactica. There was respect there, Riker could see it, but there was also fear.

On the other hand, Riker doubted that Admiral William Adama had any viable way to remove or replace a wayward officer. It was obvious too, that there were precious few experienced older people on the Galactica. The staff in the CIC as a group were young. Hard eyed and tired looking, worn to the bone, but young. Under thirty, for the most part, and some that looked under twenty. They had been running for five years. That meant some of the hardened veterans he'd met had been teenagers. He wondered about discipline, but he assumed that was one reason Adama kept Tigh around.

" Come on," Tigh said to him, his tone gruff. " We need to inspect the landing deck. Kelly always needs someone to light a fire under his ass."

" Of course," Riker said, nodding cheerfully. He'd met Captain Kelly and the man seemed like a good, if uncreative officer. He had noticed that the more creative thinkers in the officer pool tended to be pilots. A rather unfortunate tendency in his opinion, because it was obvious from observation that pilots were less likely to survive. He intended to talk to Gaeta about that, when he returned to the Enterprise.

He followed Tigh out of the CIC and into the maze of corridors. Riker was confident that he could find his way down to the Galactica's main landing deck but it still helped to have a guide. The Galactica was huge in comparison to the Enterprise and he was glad to be in good shape as Tigh avoided most of the more convenient lifts. Following the older man led him down to the deck, where the crew was working hard as far as Riker could tell. He did note that he didn't see any of the Starfleet officers. It didn't surprise him, although he was a little surprised that Adama was that canny. The flight deck was the best place to eye the smaller ships that had working FTL drives, and Adama had made sure that none of the sponsored officers were assigned to officers that spent their time on the deck.

A little paranoid, but smart.

Tigh glared his way around the deck, and a part of Riker was amused to see how quickly everyone made way for the colonel. People were scared of the man, that was obvious. Tigh didn't bother to call anyone to attention, he simply made his way to a small, relatively clean area where some of the ship's enlisted people were working. "Chief!" Tigh called out. " I was looking for some special supplies."

A dark haired burly man in a worn orange coverall stepped forward. He glanced over at Riker, and Riker realized that the man was uncomfortable and somewhat appalled. " Sir uh… The special supplies… They're ready but…."

" Then I'll take care of it, Tyrol." Tigh said it as though it was nothing, but Riker could see that Chief Tyrol was uncomfortable with whatever the colonel was up to. Not enough to protest but that didn't surprise Riker, not after watching the man for the last few hours. It was interesting though, how the crew did respect Tigh. The man was a tyrant but Will doubted very much that the chief was going to do anything other than be annoyed. There was an element of sadness, as if the whole crew sensed that there was something in Saul Tigh that was irrevocably broken. Riker had even gotten that from Gaeta, who hadn't been willing to detail anything of his experiences other than an admission to a counselor and a politely worded report that, after all was said and done, said little more than the fact that he disliked Saul Tigh.

And he wasn't surprised to discover that Tigh had led him into a storage room that contained a rather elaborate still. " Is this the special supply room?"

" You can't run a ship without some special supplies," Tigh said gruffly. He opened a drawer and withdrew two glasses. Before Riker could protest, he has poured two glasses of what Will had to assume was rotgut alcohol. " Don't worry, it won't kill you. Tyrol's pretty good at it by now. He used to make it on New Caprica, and before, here." Tigh smiled darkly as he tossed back his drink. " Last time I was down here, I was talking to the XO of the Pegasus. About his commander. That ended badly, all things considered."

" How so?" Riker said. He downed his drink as well, and kept his expression pleasant despite the sudden burning.

Tigh shrugged. " It was lucky we didn't all get killed. We didn't get killed because of Bill." He took Riker's glass and poured new drinks for both of them. " There's a lot of times these last few years… that we'd be dead if it hadn't been for Bill Adama."

"He seems like a strong man," Riker allowed.

" Believe it. That son of bitch dropped this entire ship into the atmosphere of New Caprica to rescue the people on the ground." Tigh looked at his drink with his one good eye, seeming lost in thought. " It looked like Phaeton's chariot coming down. Ever see something like that?"

Riker considered. And thought about the Borg. " Yes." He tipped his glass back.

" I though so," Tigh said harshly, although his expression held a hint of amusement. " Your captain… he likes to play the political game. He's good at it, I can tell. But I think underneath that… He's not someone to frak around with, is he?"

That was surprisingly astute, especially for a man who was killing himself with alcohol. "Captain Picard is a good man, who can be a hard man… when he needs to be. He prefers to not show that side of himself when necessary, but when it is necessary…."

" He's not gonna let the gods stop him," Tigh finished curtly. " I understand. So you know, that's goes for Bill Adama."

" Understood," Riker said easily. It was a warning but not an unexpected one. " What about you?"

" Me?" Tigh laughed as though it was funny. He went to the still and refreshed his drink. " Let me explain something to you, Cmdr. Riker. I am the weapon behind the glass with the warning 'do not break except in case of war'. But the Cylons broke that glass….and now the war is over and I might have to think about what I've done." He quaffed the drink. " The war's never really going to be over though. You know how I lost this eye?"

Riker shook his head. "No."

" A Cylon tore it out. Held it up so I could get a look at it. Asked me who was in the Resistance. And I didn't tell it a thing. And that broke the glass." Tigh rubbed his mouth. " I put explosives on kids…. I killed people. People who betrayed us. Jammer… My wife… " He paused. " I almost killed Felix Gaeta and wouldn't that have been a laugh?" H swirled his drink pensively. " So if you're worried…. Don't be worried about me. I have regrets and that is one, among many. But between the two us, as execs? Bill won't allow any treaty to be signed until the Galactica can jump. And believe me… he's not a man to back down."

Riker smiled slightly. " I'll take that under advisement."

Chapter Text

" Are you still having trouble sleeping?" Deanna Troi knew the answer, of course. Felix Gaeta was turning into a problem. She was worried. The man looked wrung out from stress. He was sitting at the edge of the chair, back straight and his hands firmly clenched around his computer padd. The problem was twofold. Felix Gaeta wasn't stable. In a perfect world, she would have had him removed from duty. The incident with Gauis Baltar had been an essentially untreated psychotic break. The Colonials hadn't had the time or the inclination to help him recover. Their doctor had drugged him up to get him past the rough spots and let it go. Of course, Dr. Cottle was overwhelmed by work, and was a general practitioner and not a psychiatrist besides, so it was easy to see why it happened. Gaeta had calmed down, he was unlikely to hurt anyone else, and they didn't have the manpower to allow heavy duty counseling or psychiatric treatment. So she was trying to clean up a psychological mess that had never really been treated. Add on the post traumatic issues of New Caprica, what the colonials called the Circle, the Cylon attack, and even the initial wormhole accident that led to the entire mess and it was like trying to remove a hardened, dry, carpet stain by patting it gently with one hand.

There was more going on. He was depressed, and not over the shock at all, and it was obvious to her that he was burying himself in work to avoid thinking about anything else. He was also obviously guarding his thoughts, guarding far more than he needed to. She had met one of his sisters years ago, and while she knew he was no telepath, he'd obviously been taught a few things. Like how to wall up his thoughts against intrusion. In a way she supposed it was a good sign. It was obviously a defensive measure that he had to think about, because he had been much easier to assess earlier on.

It also implied that he didn't trust her, which was a problem. " I know what you're doing." She said it to ease the tension. " Is something wrong?"

" These sessions are supposed to be private," Gaeta spit out. " Is there anyone who doesn't know what happened in the Galactica's airlock?" He glared.

"That's fair," she admitted carefully. " I was concerned about your safety, and about whether the colonial government had a legitimate reason to convict you of a crime." It had gone all over, unfortunately. It was something of a sensation on the Galactica and there was no way to stop the Starfleet crew from hearing the story, which meant it was all over the Enterprise.

" It was private." He didn't relax or give an inch in his stiff body posture. " I didn't even mean to tell you. It was over. It was done. I was over it. You made things worse for the Admiral, over something he can't do a thing about. Everything that happened on New Caprica and the exodus was pardoned."

"Felix... you must understand just because the people were pardoned doesn't make their actions right. Or any less wrong. Just not prosecutable in a court of law. About the Admiral... I understand you respect him, but this doesn't change the fact that he's only human. Humans aren't infallible you know. And what happens to his subordinates, on his ship, is ultimately his responsibility, no matter how you look at it. And no, you're not over it," Troi said easily. Some patients needed nothing more than a gentle prod, and some were like Felix Gaeta, so far in denial over their problems they couldn't even admit them. " You're miserably unhappy."

"I'm not unhappy." He didn't even blink, it was such an automatic response.

" Yes, you are." Troi stood up and began to walk around the small room. " Did you like Caprica? Before the Cylons attacked?"

" What do you mean?" Gaeta looked at her quizzically.

" It's not a trick question." It was, actually, but she was quite certain he had no way of knowing that. His ability to block her was about the only trick he had. " Did you like it there? Once you got over the shock?"

" What… yes. It was nice. Caprica was a lot like Earth. There were differences… I never understood the whole issue with the Sagiterrons but otherwise I thought I was lucky." He shrugged and relaxed a little in his chair.

" What were you going to do? If the Cylons hadn't attacked, I mean. Were you planning to stay with the colonial fleet?" She had a plan. Sometimes people had to be forced to see what they had been doing.

Gaeta shrugged again. " I was supposed to be promoted to captain and go to the Picon Headquarters. That would have finished out my enlistment, and…. The Caprican government would give veterans educational grants so I thought I'd go back to school. I never really was interested in biology when I was in school but it's an interesting field…." He looked at her. " Why are you asking me this?"

"You were going to settle down as a Caprican. You put your previous life aside, like it was just a book that you could close. It made thing easier, I'm sure, and no one is faulting you for doing that, but it's not healthy for you to do that now." And it wasn't always wise to force the issue but the truth was, she had a feeling that Gaeta was heading towards a serious crack up.

" What do you want from me?" Gaeta hissed back. " I did what I was supposed to do. I didn't tell anyone about the Federation. I gave up everything about myself. No one ever suspected that I was anyone but Felix Gaeta, a normal guy like everyone else. What else was I supposed to do? Live in a cave?"

" You liked it. You liked being that person didn't you? Felix Gaeta, a normal guy like everyone else." She hesitated. " I can see where that might be a compelling fantasy but it's not true."

He rolled his eyes at her. " Right… because I can't just turn off the weird things about myself. I know that. My parents mentioned it once or twice."

" But you did," Troi retorted. " Considering the religion of the Twelve Colonies, you could have played that hand very well. No one seems to suspect you're anything but a brighter than average human being."

" They're not stupid people," he said, his voice edging into anger. " Until the attack, I never had to do anything, I never needed to do anything that would make people suspicious. There's not much that I couldn't explain away. I assume you've read the research. I fall within established human norms."

" At the high end in all categories," Troi added. " But really, no one on the Galactica has remarked on your being different."

" You're not talking to the right people." Gaeta crossed his arms. " Just last night, Dualla remarked that she thought I'd had an IQ burst when the Cylons attacked. After the initial attack, when we were jumping the ships every thirty three minutes? Towards the end, I got looks because I was still functioning after seven days with no sleep. No one ever said anything but someone liked to write the word "Cylon" on my stuff. So my act wasn't perfect. By the way, this isn't going to be a secret for much longer."

" What do you mean?" Troi asked. Ultimately Felix Gaeta's suspect ancestry would become known to the people of the Twelve Colonies. It wasn't a secret. It wasn't even that big of a deal to the average member of the Federation. The Palamas effect, as it was called, tended to fade. The various descendents of Pollux and human coupling had likely led to the flourishing of Greek culture and the current members of Gaeta's family all had similar talents but they were likely to fade down over the next few generations. The problem was the story that went along with it. The god Apollo… who at best transcended and at worst was killed by none other than Jim Kirk, Starfleet Captain and almost an iconic hero of the Federation. Then there was the fact that Felix Gaeta, and his family, had special abilities.

" They aren't dumb people, and they are curious. One of the exchange officers asked about Palamas indicators in front of Lee Adama. And last night, I was answering questions and mentioned that Palamas is one of my middle names. I assume you can see where this went?"

After a moment Troi nodded. She did see where it went. Of the three exchange officers, all three were bright, but Lee Adama had struck her as the most inquisitive and the most likely to pry into things. She didn't need to be empathic to know that he was the one looking at the Enterprise with the hard cool eyes of a seasoned fighter and politician. "And he asked?"

" No, he stole my padd and looked it up himself." Gaeta stood up. " I didn't see the point in lying about it. So I unlocked the security blocks on his padd so he could look everything up that he wanted. Are we done? Or are you going to have me locked in the brig on a psych hold?"

" Or maybe just the brig, for security violations." Troi snapped. " Who gave you the authority to unlock guest access?"

He smiled slightly. " I'm talented. And you're right. I liked it on Caprica. I liked the people there, not knowing what I was, simply accepting the guy in front of them for who he was. I liked how they were never asking me to demonstrate what I was, or being jealous that I could do things they couldn't. And when the Cylons came, I had to give that up in order to keep these people alive. I violated the Prime Directive to bring these people here. So I let Lee have access to something he had already figured out. And once the treaty is signed, they'll all have free access to this information anyways. How does that make anything worse? What, I get an extra ten years on my life sentence? Can I go now?"

Troi also stood. " Felix… nothing you've done rises to the level of a serious violation of the Prime Directive. The colonials have faster than light capabilities. You didn't give them any technology. You didn't use your ancestry to gain any special privilege. You don't deserve any special punishment and you need to start accepting that."

" Well, isn't that nice for me?" And with that he stalked out of the room. Definitely a problem, she thought tiredly. He was going to explode or collapse, it was just a matter of time. And he had a point about the information, but she still had to inform the captain. And perhaps take Maj. Lee Adama aside for a little talk.

~*~

Lee looked around Ten Forward. It seemed fairly late, if he understood the ship schedule. A few people were at tables, including the Andorian crewman he'd found but it looked as though the evening crowd had dispersed for the most part. He took a seat at the empty bar. He wasn't even sure why he was there. He had spent most of the evening looking at information, so much that his head was spinning. Dee and Helo had both looked in on him and he had begged off participating in their evening plans. They had both been invited to some sort of sporting event called parrises squares and the last thing he felt like was being social. And yet, he was at the bar. He turned on the bar stool and looked at the few remaining patrons. It reminded him of one of the bars at Picon Headquarters, on the big station that docked the newer battlestars.

" You look like a man with troubles." He jumped. The bartender, Guinan, was suddenly behind the bar, and he didn't know how she had gotten there. It was rare for people to sneak up on him. Kara could do it, but she had an almost eerie ability to sneak about when wanted.

" I'm sorry, you surprised me," he said after a moment.

Guinan smiled. She set a drink down in front of him. " You should try this. It'll help you relax. It's called a Dark and Stormy. Not really a common Earth drink, not any more, but you seem like you'd appreciate it. Go ahead."

He picked it up and sipped it hesitantly. Spicy, and tart with something that wasn't quite lemon, and fizzy with an alcoholic burn that warmed him. " I like it." He was slightly off put by how she waited for him to speak. " Is… this your job? I mean... Starfleet has ship bartenders as a job? I might have to sign up."

" Captain Picard asked me here. Most ships don't have an official bartender but I rather enjoy it. How are you doing? Learning a lot?"

" More than I thought," he said as he sipped the drink.

" I imagine it's quite different," she easily. " It must be a relief, knowing you aren't alone. They call you Apollo, don't they?"

" It's just a call sign." A call sign that was increasingly irritating, all things considered.

" Apollo, the son of Zeus." Guinan smiled slightly. " I'm not human, personally, but with finding your fleet, I did a little reading. That must not be an easy nickname to bear. People must have had expectations, must still have expectations… Admiral Adama seems to be a legend. That must be hard to live up to."

Lee took a deep breath. " I appreciate the drink, and I think you're trying to be hospitable so I appreciate that as well, but you really have no idea who my father is." It wasn't a topic he liked discussing with people he was close to, after all.

"No one gets to pick their family," Guinan said after a moment. " That's true for everyone, human or not." She seemed to look over him. " Deanna, you're up late."

Lee turned again, to see Deanna Troi standing before him. She looked irritated. She nodded briefly at Guinan but Lee could see in her eyes that she had been looking for him. Because Felix Gaeta was nothing if not a tattle tale. A nice enough fellow but exactly the sort of guy who turned himself in after breaking a rule.

" I was hoping I could speak with Maj. Adama," Troi said easily. She smiled but it didn't reach her eyes, not at all.

" Of course," Guinan said easily. " We can talk later, on what's in that drink."

Troi pulled him over to one of the empty tables. " Major Adama… I think you know why I need to talk with you."

" You mean Felix Gaeta's little secret? Yes, I assumed someone would be concerned." It wasn't hard to be angry. He understood Gaeta's reasons for being quiet. Especially after the Cylon attack. It was lucky for Felix that he did pass for human, because if he had failed the Cylon detection test, he would have been killed as a Cylon.

The problem was, after reading for most of the evening, he understood why it wasn't the first thing that Captain Jean-Luc Picard had brought to their attention. It wasn't just going to upset people. Sure, at first people would just be frightened that Gaeta had lied and wasn't really human. But once the more religious sat down and thought about the ramifications…. It would be more than upsetting, it would be disastrous. People were clinging to the smallest things. He had never been a believer but a lot of people were, and the people would be devastated.

And more importantly, as angry as he was, there was a treaty being looked at. A treaty that the people needed, that they desperately needed and wanted. " I plan to discuss this… situation with the Admiral and the President when I return to the Galactica. However… I have concerns about how people will react. What I discovered about Palamas indicators and the Pollux lifeforms… I think it needs to be presented discreetly."

Troi seemed to visibly relax. " That's a good idea. This knowledge…" She thought carefully. " It wasn't kept from your people. There are any number of human hybrids in the Federation. I wouldn't say it's common but it's certainly not unusual. For example, I'm actually half human and half Betazoid. I chose to be a citizen of Betazed because I was raised there. Lt. Cmdr. Gaeta is three quarters human, and he's a citizen of Earth because that's where he grew up." She clearly was hesitant. " You're not happy about this."

He almost rolled his eyes at her. Almost. Because she was fairly nice, and she simply had no idea how Bill Adama was going to react to all of the news. " I think that my people have very little to hold onto. I don't think this little revelation should be kept secret, but we need a new home, and we need to stop running, and we need all of that a lot more than we need everyone up in arms over the gods. Once the treaty is signed, this information will be available to everyone, and that's good enough for me. I will tell the Admiral and the President, but my recommendation is that we keep this quiet."

"That would be for the best," Troi said. " You haven't told your companions, I take it?"

"No," Lee said.

" That's… awkward." She seemed even more hesitant. " I think Lt. Cmdr. Gaeta might tell them. He's been… upset. If you could let me know if that happens, I'd appreciate it."

" All right…" That just opened up even more things to think about. He sipped his drink and tried to relax. Just remember, he told himself, these are problems that you're dealing with because the fleet is safe. It's still ten times better than running from the Cylons.

Chapter Text

"No," Reg Barclay said, " I just… learned how to play this today." He set down his cards and turned to Kara. " This is Full Colors… right?"

The people sitting around the table groaned and started getting up but Kara hooted with laughter. " I have to admit, Reg," she said as she helped him rake in the cubits, " I didn't think we were going to get along, but you're ok."

Reg nodded. " You like that I won," he said. It was surprisingly insightful, Kara thought, considering that Barclay seemed overly nervous and something of a straight arrow. He looked down at the pile of money and twitched. " I really didn't mean to take everyone's money. We usually play for chips…"

The gods were rarely so amusing in their choices, Kara thought. Reg was a mousy, bland fellow, obviously awkward, who could play cards like a professional on the Picon gaming circuit. Either he was a natural or good at calculating the odds. " Tell you what, Reg. I can solve your problem. If you'll let me."

He nodded.

She scooped up the tattered cubits and held them up. "Connors! Drinks on the house! Our new friend, Lt. Reg Barclay of Starfleet is buying!" Much as she suspected, that got everyone cheering. She winked at her companion. " I hope you don't mind, Reg. My dad always said cubits saved in the bank made you a lonely rich person, but cubits spent for fun surround you with friends."

It was something her father had liked to say. Before her mother had chased him off.

Reg nodded. " We don't… really use money."

Of course they didn't, Kara thought with just a twinge of jealousy. " So are you having fun, Reg?" She had taken him around, shown him the CIC, the water storage center, the sort of techie things that people like Reg liked. Then they had stopped to pick up Sam, and that had taken a few minutes since it had been a while since she had seen Sam, but Reg wasn't a child so leaving him alone for a few minutes hadn't killed him. Then they had grabbed rations from the mess and gone to the bar to nibble on ration bars and drink. And then Reg had shown his remarkable talent so they had spent a few hours playing cards.

" It's… fascinating. Amazing really." For a moment, she thought he was being condescending and then he started talking excitedly. " You don't use dilithium nor antimatter but you do have faster than light travel. That's unheard of… and your computers are like calculators compared to ours but you get so much out of them. It makes me think… how much we depend on computers and on dilithium to provide energy. It's… humbling." Reg looked down at his feet.

Kara chuckled. Reg was an easy read. He was worried about giving offense. But he wasn't, which made it easier. She doubted he could fake the enthusiasm. " How fast can those runabouts go, anyway?"

"It's hard to say. Your methods of measurement are different Maybe… three quarters the speed of light is the standard full sublight, for Warp... We'd have to go into the equations..." At the prospect of which Kara groaned, good naturedly. She knew some math, all pilots did, but she had already discovered that Reg was the sort of guy who wrote math texts.

Reg gestured to one of the paper cubits. " Like cubits… We have cubits as a form of measurement but it's really… old… and different."

" What do you mean?" Sam said. Sam was bored, she could tell. He wasn't much for cards, and he was annoyed that she was detailed to babysit, but he would need to deal with it. Soon enough, they would be on some new planet and their life together could get back on track. Until then, she was still a pilot of the Fleet and Sam was a civilian. Sam did have his pluses though. He was smart, and he knew enough to be polite. She'd caught some snickering earlier from Hotdog over how Reg seemed to be a stuttering mess, and that was what had led to the intense game of triad to begin with.

" Cubits… it's a measure of length." Barclay held up his hands indicating a space about the length of an average sized man's foot. " It's just odd that… you use the same word. There's a lot of things that are the same or… just a little bit off."

Sam sighed and stood up. " I have to catch my shuttle to the Rising Star." He leaned in and gave her an inviting kiss. Quietly he said to her, " You remember what I said. This is a chance for all of us to move past the last few years. Try not to frak things up."

" I love you too, Sam," she said with good humor. Sam was a good man, a better one than she deserved if she allowed herself to be honest. He had even considered getting into one of the nugget classes just so they could be closer, but she had talked him out of it. He was supremely fit, and bright and everything quantifiable said he would be a good Viper pilot, but she had made sure that he wouldn't be chosen. He didn't feel right. Zak Adama hadn't felt right, and she had pushed him and he had died. She hadn't ignored the feeling again, and she had kept track of the few that had pushed on despite her recommendation. They were all dead. From the training most of them. One had struggled through the training and then flamed out on a landing two days. That wasn't going to happen to Sam.

He was too old to develop the right reflexes anyway. He'd be all right in a Raptor but in a Viper, he just felt wrong. And he was off to the Rising Star, and worst of all he was right. She was mad, and she knew herself well enough to know that a part of her was going to be mad for the rest of her life. At the Cylons, at her mother, at Leoben. Even at the Earth people, and the Federation, and Felix Gaeta, although she could accept that it was mostly unfair. She was angry because Gaeta had tricked her. Had tricked them all really, but it only mattered that he had tricked her. Tricked her twice. Worse that everyone knew it. Ten times worse that Gaeta was slowly but surely becoming the hero of the fleet, but she was pretty certain she was past the killing rage.

For the most part.

She turned her attention back to her companion. Definitely a smart man, Barclay sipped his fresh drink, made a face, and set it down. "Ambrosia not to your liking?" she asked.

" I uh…" Barclay seemed to struggle to find the right words. " I don't… drink very much… and this is really strong. It's good… but…" He gestured over to the bar.

Kara had to chuckle. She wasn't the only one who had hauled their exchange officer to the bar, and it was obvious that Starfleet didn't let the kids out to play very often. As she watched, one of them, a man who had been assigned to Racetrack, stumbled away from the bar, carrying a tray of drinks. The man spotted them and walked over. He set the drinks down with a clatter. " All right, Reg! I figured we'd have to teach these folks hold'em or five card draw to get the drinks." The man had an odd drawl, an accent, Kara realized. He leered at her and took a seat. " I'm Tex Jarman and you are one pretty lady. Too pretty for Reg here."

"Don't be impressed," Racetrack said as she joined them, " I'm also a pretty lady, and one damn fine filly. And this, " and she gestured to the glasses of ambrosia, " is damn fine firewater. Remember Tex, this is your last drink."

" I'll drink to that!" Tex said jovially. He tossed back a glass. " That's some mighty fine moonshine!"

" Is that complimentary or not?" Racetrack asked dryly. She rolled her eyes. Kara chuckled. It was funny really. " Kara, would you watch him? I need to… not be here for a few moments." Racetrack looked frazzled, so Kara gave her a nod and the other woman ran off.

Tex cheerfully held out his hand. " Now that lovely lady insists her name is Racetrack, which I don't rightly believe, but I don't recollect being introduced to you."

She shook his hand. He was amusing in a drunk, idiotic sort of way. Not bad looking either, a bit younger than Barclay, but blonde and ruggedly handsome. " I'm Starbuck."

The man's eyes widened, and she realized suddenly that underneath the drunken exterior, he was still as smart as the average Starfleet officer, and they were all pretty smart. " I heard about you," Jarman said. " You tried to kill Felix Gaeta."

" Yes." She didn't see any point in lying. Everyone knew. She wasn't proud of what had happened, not exactly, but what introspective thought she'd given the incident, she knew it would have happened the same way. She had been angry then. So angry, she couldn't even think about that time without feeling angry. Gaeta had been lucky that night in the airlock. If Galen Tyrol hadn't been there, they would have killed him.

Which was ironic, all things considered. " He pissed me off. Kept secrets. If he'd opened his mouth after the exodus, we all would have known what he did and things would have been different." If he had opened his mouth to people like the Admiral, anyway. It was still difficult to think past the red haze of anger that surrounded that time in her memory, but she was pretty certain Gaeta had tried to reason with her about his role.

But then Felix Gaeta wasn't exactly known for choosing the right people to trust.

Jarman merely grinned foolishly. She wasn't surprised. She had a feeling that the Starfleet officers had been warned not to go looking for revenge. Jarman was drunk, but he was just, in his way, making conversation. And it didn't escape her that Barclay was uncomfortable with the discussion.

" It's good you didn't kill him," Jarman said, chuckling. " What with you guys worshipping Athena and Apollo and Zeus and all that."

Barclay looked sharply at Jarman. " Tex… "

Kara's eyes narrowed. Barclay was not the sort of guy to correct people, she had figured that out very easily. That meant Tex was saying something important. And Tex was drunk, so it was quite possible he was saying something he wasn't supposed to. " What do you mean, Tex?"

Tex leaned over the table, his face taking on a conspiratorial cast. " Don't you know who he is? What Felix Gaeta is?"

"Tex!" Barclay said it sharply and now Kara was certain that Tex was about to say something significant.

" You can't tell by looking," Tex said, " but he's not human." He drank down his glass of ambrosia. " They don't really know what he is… and you should see his sisters. There's some pretty fillies!"

" So what?" It was extremely difficult to be nonchalant, but Kara had learned more than just where to stab with a dull fork from her time with Leoben. " Why should I care if he's not human? It's not like I frakked him."

She had, actually. Several times. It was a small ship, relatively speaking, and Gaeta could always be counted on to be freshly showered. Which was more effort than most of the men on the ship could say. And that thought just made her skin crawl even more because she didn't think Tex was lying.

Tex laughed. " It's not just that he's not human…. His granddaddy was Apollo himself."

"Apollo?" For a moment, she was relieved. Because Jarman was drunk and was just being an asshole. The people in Starfleet didn't believe in the gods, and while Barclay was pleasant and respectful, she had definitely felt the condescending attitude, the unconscious arrogance, from any number of the people bringing over supplies. Jarman was teasing, hoping to make her look foolish. " What are you talking about?"

" Apollo. The god Apollo. Only, he wasn't an actual god, he was some sort of alien. They all were." Tex stood up, and swayed unsteadily. " You almost murdered Apollo's grandson. How do I get to the head?" Before she could answer, he walked away, lurching to the door of the bar.

Kara turned her attention back to Barclay who was looking horrified and pale. " So… " she said as she picked up one of the remaining drinks. " How much of that was true?"

Barclay looked down at his hands, nervously wringing them. " All of it. It's all true… but…"

" But what?" Kara kept her voice calm.

" It's not… unusual… in the Federation, for someone to have non human ancestors." Barclay looked at her. " I…. Didn't want to make you feel awkward but… I knew Felix… I know Felix… We were in the Academy together. What Tex said… It's not a secret but I think Captain Picard wanted to be the one to talk about this."

" But he's not human?" Kara pressed.

"He's… mostly human. Three quarters human, one quarter Pollux lifeform." Again Barclay hesitated. " The captain wanted us to not mention this. Because of…Apollo."

" You're saying Apollo was an alien, and Felix Gaeta is his grandson." She could see why Picard, who had struck her as a tricky bastard, hadn't wanted that going around. It was more than a bit blasphemous for starters. Also a bit unbelievable. " If Gaeta is part god, why doesn't he do anything god like? He seems pretty normal." Although when she thought about it, there was a lot of weirdness about Gaeta. He had always been smart but nothing special until the invasion. Then, all of a sudden he was the resident Cylon expert, better than Baltar, truth to be told, at figuring out how the Cylons were doing things. He hadn't been sick either. Not even on New Caprica during the occupation and everyone had been sick then, except Felix Gaeta.

" It's a Starfleet officer's duty not to reveal higher technology, or the existence of other life, to a society that hasn't made first contact. He'd never show you the things he can do." Barclay paused. " He's not… a show off, anyway. And just… just because that particular alien life form said he was the god Apollo…. That doesn't mean he was your god Apollo… Although it's pretty likely considering what happened…. It's probably how our worlds are connected."

" Connected through the fake gods…" Kara stood up. Her thoughts were rolling. If Tex and Reg were telling the truth…. Worse that it tickled her memory. It reminded her of her childhood, of spending hours in the temple while her mother harangued her about the gods and her special destiny. She felt like she was in a swirling vortex. She had felt that way since they had found the Federation, and she was beginning to understand why.

She had read the Scrolls of Apollo. Felix Gaeta needed to prove that prophecy by more than just a claim at birthright. She just didn't remember enough of it to be sure. " We're going to talk more on this, Reg. But for now… I need to think. Can you find your way back to your quarters?" She was angry, but she was still an officer of the fleet and Reg Barclay was a diplomatic guest.

" Yes…. The Galactica is actually quite simple in layout…. Are you all right?" Reg also stood.

" I'm fine. I need to think. I'll pick you up at 0800." She turned on her heels and walked out. She had already shaken off the alcohol, and she needed to think, but suddenly all she could think about was the twirling circle of colors that had haunted her since she was a child.

Leoben was right. She had a special destiny, and it was beginning to unfold right in front of her.

Chapter Text

It was quiet. To a point, Bill couldn't complain, not in the slightest. Other than that the ship couldn't jump away. He didn't disbelieve Jean Luc Picard, in fact a part of him was hoping to see the Cylons face something that would take them down a peg or two. It would be satisfying. Pleasing.

But when the Cylons were quiet, they were usually plotting something. He wanted to see the fight that he could sense was coming, but it was much more important to see that the civilian population was safely settled. The debates were already raging on the wireless about what to do, and already it was clear that while it would be put to a vote quite soon, most of the fleet wanted their own world, with visitation to Earth allowed under Starfleet oversight. At least for the duration of the initial transition period. Afterwards they'd be free to move through the Federation like all the rest of its population. It helped, he was certain, that Vice President Zarek had agreed with Roslin that actually settling on Earth wasn't a viable option. Of course, Zarek was no fool either. Settling on Earth would not only effectively destroy the Colonists as a people, it also destroyed Zarek's political career, and it wasn't like the man could fall back on his old line of work. From his own reading, Adama could tell that the Federation frowned on terrorism. Amongst other things. And he was somewhat convinced the prospect of loosing their positions of power and going back to being nobodies had been a factor for the Quorum members as well. And the president. Laura tried to pretend otherwise, but she was rather attached to being president.

Meanwhile he still had a ship to fix, and a crew to watch out for. He looked down at the new report, made by Lt. Jg. Alghee, who had once been a talented computer science major at the University of Caprica. Alghee had been Gaeta's assistant with navigation, and while she was talented, she was clearly struggling with the work. He knew enough of the tech talk to understand that she couldn't figure out what was wrong. He also knew enough to know that the total tear down and redo that seemed to be the solution was impossible. It would take forever, and they didn't have the parts anyway. It was frustrating because he could almost instinctively sense that the problem could be easily fixed. There were times that he regretted not placing more importance on the CIC staff. Gaeta never had been given time to train anyone.

On the plus side, the exchange seemed to be going off well. He had to admit, he found himself rather enjoying the presence of Lt. Cmdr Worf. Once he had gotten past the man's appearance, the Klingon displayed a sharp wit and certainly was a more martial officer than the other Starfleet officers.

It wasn't a surprise, for example, that Worf was patiently waiting for him in the CIC for the start of the morning shift. Riker was there as well, and both seemed a little off. Not nervous, not exactly. Riker in particular looked like he was about to give some bad news. Gods, Bill thought, please don't tell me someone got into a fight. He had expressly warned everyone to smile and be polite. The people from Starfleet were different, and while he found them pleasant, there was simply no way to know what they might say that could give offense. His crew had been pointedly told in no uncertain terms that no one was to be offensive to them, and nothing the guests did was to be considered offensive. The crew was on its best behavior. And he'd have the head of anyone who couldn't control themselves.

"You're both right on time," he said pleasantly. To Riker he added, " I'm sure Col. Tigh will be here in a moment." That was another one that had gotten a warning.

Riker shrugged. " He was a little… indisposed when I went by but he said he would be here shortly. I'm early. I was hoping to speak with you and perhaps President Roslin. There was an… incident in the recreational area last night. Nothing serious…. But there could be some ramifications."

An incident, Bill thought tiredly. Lovely. " Is anyone hurt?"

" No, no…. nothing like that." Riker was quick to reassure. " It's more of a political problem…."

Even better. " Then its fortunate that Ms. Roslin is already on her way." In fact, Laura was moving onto the Galactica for the time being. It was just getting ridiculous the amount of time she was spending going back and forth from Colonial One. He had made the invitation the night before and she had accepted. It helped, he was certain, that the video wireless broadcasts had to be done from the Galactica in order to accommodate the number of people who wanted to attend. The Quorum meetings would be easier as well. And it would only be for a short time. "Lt. Danvers, what's the eta on the President's runabout?"

"Already landed and on her way here," Danvers said. Danvers, Bill realized suddenly, was one of Cain's men originally. Another one who needed a promotion.

"Advise her to come to my quarters at once." Whatever it was, Laura would want to know. His quarters were probably the only private place on the ship. " Gentlemen, please follow me." But as they were leaving the CIC, Kara Thrace stomped in.

" Sir, I need to speak with you. Privately." She came to attention as she spoke, and Adama could see the fire in her eyes. So she was involved with whatever had happened. He sighed inwardly, somehow that wasn't exactly surprising... Which made the fact that no one was hurt quite amazing.

" In my quarters," he said and he began walking. Riker and Worf followed and in seconds Kara had dashed out in front of him.

" I meant privately… sir. Without our guests." She didn't quite glare at Riker and Worf but she did eye them the way she would interlopers.

Riker smiled slightly. " Captain Thrace… I'm quite certain you want to discuss the same incident in the bar last night that I want to discuss. Am I right?"

After a moment, she nodded. It just gets better, Adama thought. Fortunately his quarters were just off the CIC and he was pleasantly surprised to see Laura waiting patiently by the door. " We have a small problem," Adama said as he ushered her and the others in.

" It wouldn't be a day in the fleet without a problem," Roslin said easily as she took a seat on the small couch. " What's going on?"

" I'm waiting to find out myself," Bill said as he sat down opposite her. " Why don't you begin, Cmdr. Riker." Riker had been first, after all.

" One of our people was very intoxicated in your recreational area." Riker managed to look embarrassed but also concerned. " He… gave out some information on Lt. Cmdr. Gaeta's background that… while it wasn't a secret, it was information that we had hoped to present in a less inflammatory way."

" Considering that Lt. Gaeta was actually from Earth," Adama said after a moment, " I don't know how much more shocking his background could be."

" He's not human," Kara chimed. " Not human."

Adama struggled to keep his composure. "What?"

" Technically, Felix Gaeta isn't entirely human," Riker said after a moment. " But he is a citizen of Earth and the Federation and he is a form of human hybrid. He's not even a full hybrid, he's three quarters human. I realize that this must be a surprise and a shock but it was something that for obvious reasons he couldn't exactly tell you. And like I said, it wasn't something we intended to keep a secret, but you do have to understand that it's partly a privacy issue."

" And what does that mean?" Roslin asked gently. Her tone was even and cool, and Bill was again impressed with her ability to maintain that iron control.

" It's not required for Mr. Gaeta to inform people of his genetic ancestry. He has rights." Riker paused, his tone changing to a far more serious one. Of the "you'd better pay attention" sort". He continued. "The right to privacy is among them, and he is under no obligation to explain his heritage to anyone. There are laws in the Federation that prohibit any sort of discrimination in this respect, and guarantee a measure of privacy to the citizenry. But there are some other concerns as well due to the nature of his non-human ancestry."

" They think he's the grandson of Apollo," Kara snarled. "That stupid frak Jarman said the gods were aliens, and that Gaeta was part god."

And Adama could understand suddenly why Riker felt it was necessary to say something. He wasn't religious at all, and he suspected that while Laura took her visions seriously, she also didn't hesitate to make use of them for political gain if necessary. But Kara Thrace was an entirely different person in that respect. Regardless of the possibility that it was true, and he assumed that it was some sort of gross exaggeration at worst, Kara was no doubt offended. And her reaction was subdued compared to what the average Gemonese civilian would think. And if that had been said in that damned bar, then it was already peculating through the ship. " I trust there's a plausible explanation for this?"

Riker looked awkward. " We don't consider Felix Gaeta to be part god. Not as we understand the concept. He's not much different from a normal human. However… there is a lot of hard evidence to suggest that the alien life form that was Mr. Gaeta's grandfather had masqueraded as the god Apollo on Earth. You can see that evidence if you like. That this life form from Pollux 4 claimed to be the god Apollo doesn't mean that he actually was the god that your people worship…. Even if a lot seems to speak for it. In fact there's really no reason for this to be upsetting, but since I'm certain the basic tale is out there already, you may want to think about how you want to present this."

There was a long moment of silence. Finally Laura leaned back on the couch, and smiled slightly. " Anything else? Anything that might be… I don't know… shattering to our religious faith?"

" In the records…" Riker hesitated. " One of the Federation's greatest heroes, Admiral Kirk, killed Apollo rather than worship him. You can read about it."

"What?" Kara all but screamed.

" It was a glorious battle," Worf said gravely.

Laura nodded. " It's 0800 in the morning, and I have a monumental crisis of faith to deal with. I'd like to speak with Admiral Adama privately if you all don't mind."

Riker rose. " I've already reported this to Captain Picard." Worf merely nodded inscrutably, and they both walked out. Kara stepped forward, her face dark with anger.

" That's it? Have you read the Scroll of Apollo, Madame President," Kara cried.

"I have, Captain Thrace. Be assured on that." Roslin's tone took on an edge that Bill had heard before.

" The president and I will discuss this matter, Captain Thrace." He said it firmly. "I want you to be quiet about this, Starbuck. This could have a lot of ugly ramifications."

For a moment, he was certain she was going to say no. Then with a terse "yes sir!" she snapped a salute and stormed out, leaving him alone with Roslin.

" She's going to be a problem," Roslin said as she leaned back on the couch. " But not our worst one. You understand that this sort of information will devastate the faithful if it's not presented carefully. And it most likely is already circulating in some form already. Kara won't be the only one to think of the Scroll of Apollo. And…." She paused, seeming to think carefully. " You and I need to talk."

" About what?" It wasn't as though he expected a huge amount of problems outside of the Gemonese contigent. After all was said and done, it was really more Laura's problem than his.

Laura took a deep breath. " I knew. I knew Felix Gaeta was from Earth. I knew he wasn't entirely human…. I knew he was the grandson of an non human being that claimed to be Apollo. I've known for about six months."

Bill let his hands rest on the desk. Mustering his last bit of calm, he said, " How did you know that?"

" He told me." Laura said. "And now it's time that I tell you what I've been doing. And what I know."

Chapter Text

She hated the times that she had to lie to Bill Adama. He always took it so hard, even after years of knowing her. Politics were hard, but this was one time her regrets were minor at best. Bill would get over it, and quickly. He had to. It didn't make the situation any easier.

Laura leaned back on the couch. " Where would you like me to start?" She tried to not sound arrogant. Bill Adama was a proud man, and she suspected he was still smarting from not knowing that his tactical officer and navigator wasn't exactly the pleasant, quiet Caprican that he'd thought. Bill wasn't the sort to like secrets, and she had just sprung a large one onto him.

Bill glared at her. "Let's start with why I'm finding this out now, and not six months ago."

"That's easy. There's several reasons. To begin with…." After a moment she laughed. " I thought… I thought the gods had answered my prayers. That they were speaking through Felix Gaeta and that he had… gone a little crazy as a result and made up being from Earth as a way to cope, since he had always been…indifferent to the gods." It was rather funny considering the situation. " I didn't say anything to you, because I assumed you'd have him locked up and drugged. I didn't believe he was from Earth, but… I did think the gods had chosen him to save us." She hesitated. " I'm not convinced I was wrong. Commander Riker wasn't being entirely honest. Mr. Gaeta is much different from the average human being."

Bill rubbed his face tiredly. " What does that mean?"

"Let me explain."

~*~

She looked at the report and sighed. According to Dr. Cottle, the people of the fleet were getting just enough calories and nutrients to keep them going. If there was any failure in the food supply, she would need to start making some truly ugly choices. " Tory, what else do I have?"

It was late. She was exhausted, that was a fact, and she was certain that it showed. She didn't consider herself a vain woman, but lately when she looked in the mirror, she saw not a middle aged woman but an old woman.

Tory looked at her worriedly. " You have an appointment with Lt. Gaeta. He was pretty insistent about seeing you at this particular time. He's also got a religious book… Maybe he's a new convert." She rolled her eyes. "I can get rid of him if you want."

" No… just come in after fifteen minutes to remind me of a meeting." Tory was good at discreetly getting rid of the occasional annoyance. Still, every citizen had the right to an audience with the president if they went through the proper channels, and if Lt. Gaeta wanted to have an audience, it was petty and unkind of her to refuse. It was just odd that he was coming to see her, made more bizarre by the fact that he had a religious book with him. Lt. Felix Gaeta was polite, and indifferent to her. He had been kind on New Caprica, quick to help her find supplies for the school even after the Cylons had come, but she had assumed that was more about his wanting to help than any liking for her. And he had been a little unstable since the incident with Dr. Baltar. Not that she was upset about what had happened. It justified keeping Baltar in jail for one thing. The man had obviously tried to turn suspicion onto Gaeta by suggesting Gaeta was some sort of secret Cylon. That sort of comment got people killed, and the ex-presidential aide of one Gauis Baltar was already an easy target.

She would have stabbed Baltar in the neck just on principle. But it had been surprising coming from Gaeta. He had always seemed so calm, so civil, both in the CIC, and on New Caprica. Not like the other military officers who tended to blow off stream with fights. He had been fine since, perhaps a little shaky but back to work without medication. That meant he was doing better than a lot of people. And if his little nervous breakdown had led him to the Scripture… then it was worth giving him a few minutes. Bill's people tended to be very loyal to him and she couldn't always depend on Lee Adama to be on her side of a problem. Felix Gaeta wasn't one of the true believers, but if he had gone through some sort of religious conversion then he could be very useful to her. Useful and worth cultivating.

She smiled as he stepped into the office. He still had a certain youthful fresh faced appearance, that the uniform only enhanced. " Lt. Gaeta, it was a pleasant surprise to find you on my calendar. What can I do for you?"

He clutched the book he was holding close. " I wanted to discuss the Scroll of Apollo with you… Could we sit by the windows?" He looked sheepish. " I spend a lot of time in the CIC. I hardly ever get a view. Do you mind?"

" Why not?" He has converted, Roslin thought with amusement. Surprising, but he had seen everything in his life shattered. Better this, she decided, than having to read the report about how he blew his brains out. She'd had a lot of those recently. She took a seat in one of the well stuffed leather chairs. "Now what did you want to talk about?"

He took a seat opposite her, still holding the book. " I was reading the Scroll of Apollo and… I had a vision."

Why, of course you had a vision, Roslin thought tiredly. It wouldn't be the first time that someone had read the scrolls and sought her out to discuss the ensuing vision. It never came to anything. " What do you mean?"

" I'm the child born in the shadow of Olympus." Gaeta opened the book and pointed to a marked passage. " I fit all the signs and… I saw the fleet surrounded by a wall of fire. In the vision, it was the sign that we had to change course."

It was said so efficiently. It was as if he had planned his words very carefully. It felt like a lie and she was generally a very good judge. And Gaeta had never struck her as a good liar. So what was he up to?" And when was this supposed to happen?"

" You don't believe me." He smiled slightly. " I'm not surprised. I imagine a lot of people say things like this to you…But I am right. I am the chosen of Apollo." He looked down at his watch. " If it helps… according to my vision, we should see the wall of flame within the next five seconds. Five, four, three, two, one…"

She had been musing whether to call Tory to gently get rid of Gaeta when the window lit up with fiery color. She felt a rush of cold fear as the flames in space seemed to roll over the fleet. It did look like a wall of flame enveloping the fleet and she could already hear the panicked shouting in the rest of the ship. " Oh my gods…"

" It's just a warning," Gaeta said softly. " It'll stop in just a minute. Don't worry." He was as cool as always, and eerily intent and Laura found herself nodding to that. She wondered suddenly if this was how people had felt when she had announced what had happened in the Tomb of Athena to the waiting fleet. She felt both shattered and renewed and even a little disappointed. Jealous even. The gods were speaking, and they were speaking to Felix Gaeta, not her. As she watched, the flames seemed to flicker and then disappear. Right on time, just as he had predicted.

Gaeta crossed his arms. " So, are you listening to me, now?" His tone made her realize that he was fully conscious of the fact that she had been humoring him.

" Yes, I am," she said after a moment.

"Good," Gaeta said curtly, " Because everything I just told you was a lie."

Before she could even think of a response, Tory rushed into the room. " Madame President, the fleet is panicking. No one has been hurt but…"

She rose to her feet. " It's a warning. We need to jump." She glanced at Gaeta and made a sudden guess. " We have emergency jump coordinates ready, don't we Mr. Gaeta?"

He also rose. " Of course. I had just finished up new coordinates before I came here. Admiral Adama would just need to distribute them."

" Tell the Admiral to prep the fleet for jump. I'll be contacting him shortly." She waited until Tory left to turn her attention back to Gaeta. " What exactly do you mean, Mr. Gaeta?"

" I don't believe in the gods." Gaeta tapped the book. " The Scroll of Apollo… I picked the scripture that fit the situation best." He flipped open the book to another marked passage. " See, it refers to a wall of fire here. I knew that would make you listen to me and not… discount what I need to talk to you about. Maybe we should sit down again."

" All right," she said easily. They both returned to their seats. " Do we really need to jump?" The fleet wasn't in the best of shape, and if it could be avoided, she could still call a halt to the process. " What just happened here?"

" Yes, we do." He took a deep breath. " The wall of fire… it's a well known subspace anomaly. It's caused by a certain kind of energy particle and it occurs once every thirty six hours. It's perfectly harmless but it marks the edge of Romulan space in this sector." He paused. " I studied it in school. In school on Earth."

"On… Earth…" He's gone mad, Laura thought after a moment. She had read about it in the scriptures. The chosen often went insane. Elosha had warned her that it was possible, and she went back to her previous thoughts as well. Felix Gaeta hadn't been a believer. To be the chosen of the gods, for the gods to use him as a mouthpiece… he had snapped. He came up with the story to cope with what the gods expected of him, a rationalization of a sort.

He shrugged and smiled suddenly. " I never thought we'd get this far, that we'd get this close. I thought the Cylons would kill us before I ever had to do this."

" Had to do what?"

" Our laws… our greatest law is to not interfere with societies that haven't made contact with outsiders. Telling you that I'm from Earth… Earth is a legend to you, and worse it's a religious legend but…" He sighed. " I'm from Earth. I ended up on Caprica due to an accident nine years ago. I've kept the fleet going in the right direction. We're about eight months away from Federation space at our current rate but… we can't stay on this route, and the admiral would never make the course changes without you insisting on them."

She tried to think. She could feel the FTL engines starting to spin. "What would happen if we didn't jump?"

" The space anomaly marks the edge of Romulan space. They don't like intruders, and they would assume, since the fleet is human, that we were spies." Gaeta looked at her intently. " They are aliens and they are much more powerful. They probably know we're here, sitting back and wondering about how exactly does the Federation plan to bring down the Star Empire with it's latest ploy. If they attack us, if we go into their territory, at best the survivors would end up in slave camps. It would make New Caprica look like a picnic."

It was an odd little fantasy but the important thing was that they needed to jump. He might be crazy, he might be in complete denial but… she had read the Scroll of Apollo once or twice and it said that the child born in the shadow of Olympus would come to the leader of the people at a dark time and save them from a horrible death at the hands of demons. And how did he know about the wall of fire, to where he could predict it within seconds? The trembling inversion of the FTL jump rushed through her.

It would be better though, if he wasn't crazy. " Mr. Gaeta…Felix… You understand that I simply can't believe you're from Earth."

" I can't make you believe anything, Madame President. But if you agree to the route I choose, you'll know for certain in eight months, maybe sooner if there's a patrol, that I am telling the truth." Gaeta leaned back in the leather seat. " If you want to believe that I am having visions, you can. It's my fault for lying to begin with, but if you tell anyone that I'm a religious prophet, you're just going to screw things up even more. I promise you, I am from Earth, and I know the way and it has nothing to do with Apollo or Kobol or any prophecy you can think of." He chuckled suddenly. " If it helps at all, once we find Earth, they will help you. I'll be in trouble, but they won't hold it against you. Until then, I think it would be easier on both of us to let people think you're the one hearing the gods."

She considered her options. He seemed content to allow the gods to use him as long as his coping mechanism of fantasy wasn't disturbed. " We need a signal… so you can tell me where we should go."

" I'll leave that to you. I had to call in every favor I had left to get this meeting. When we get closer, we'll have to talk more." He said it matter of factly.

" That seems reasonable." She hesitated again. Letting him be crazy in a stable way just to get what she wanted, it was cruel. " Could you prove you're from Earth and not…" She gestured to the book. " And not Apollo's child sent to save us?"

He seemed to blush. "You might find the proof upsetting."

Laura let herself smile. " Why don't you try me, Mr. Gaeta?"

He stood up and walked over to her desk where her lap top was. " I'm not…I'm not entirely human, Ms. Roslin. Colonial technology has a hard time spotting the differences but if you look at my medical records, you'll find an anomalous organ next to my spleen. It's very small… Dr. Cottle thought I had cancer until I explained it had always been there, and then he decided he didn't really care as long as I wasn't dying. I think he wrote it off as vestigial. But that might not be enough proof, right?" He waited.

" I have to admit that I don't find it likely, considering your appearance." All things were possible of course, but she had always thought of aliens as appearing like monsters, with extra eyes and limbs.

" Well, looks can be deceiving… After all Cylons look human. More human than me, to be quite honest." He put his hand on the laptop. " Let me show you something. The computer isn't on, right? And my hand? It's not on the start button." Suddenly the computer whirred to life. As she watched, the files flipped open and everything seemed to be moving a lot faster than when she used it. " Look," Gaeta said, " here are your secret files. The ones you keep under encryption codes."

She did look, and she was shocked to see exactly what he said, her secret files scrolling up while his hand merely touched the screen. " What are you doing?"

" I'm undoing your encryption locks. Sometimes when we needed to jump quickly, I transmitted coordinates this way." He looked at her intently. " It's a gift, Ms. Roslin. It's a form of telekinesis that I have because one of my grandparents was not a human being. How else do you think I got the codes for the Galactica from the Cylons? They certainly didn't give them to me."

I think the gods are working through you, Roslin almost said. But she stopped herself. He was crazy, but he was also touched by the gods. That was why he had come to her. She had read the Scroll of Apollo after all. If he was the prophet then she was the chosen leader of the people. So much the better for her.

She wished suddenly that Elosha was alive. " That just proves you have a gift, Mr. Gaeta."

" Like I said, I can't make you believe me." Gaeta stepped away from her desk, and crossed his arms. " Just… eight months from now… when you are meeting the leaders of my people, please remember this conversation. I only revealed this to you so that you could change our course and keep everyone alive. What I've done is violate one of my people's most sacred laws, but it's a hundred times worse if they think I told you I was a god."

" But if you're the child born in the shadow of Olympus, you'd be Apollo's son." It had been a while since she had read it, but that was one of the salient points. Apollo sending his son to save the people and lead them to the promised land.

" Apollo's grandson, Madame President." He smiled wryly at her. " If you're going to think that, then at least be accurate. I'm Apollo's grandson."

0o0o0o0o0

" And yes… I did feel foolish when Captain Picard said they were from Earth." Roslin finished. She waited a long moment. " Bill?"

Bill sighed and took off his glasses. He began to clean the lens. " You thought my tactical officer had lost his mind and you just… hoped for the best? No… you thought the gods would handle it. I'm not really happy about this, Laura."

" It all worked out." Laura said.

" And now… he is part alien and the grandson of an alien named Apollo and we might have a major religious crisis." Bill looked at her. " I'm glad it's your problem and not mine."

"No, it's partly your problem." If he was mad before, she knew the next part was going to make it worse. " I'm positive that he… used his gift to make the Galactica's FTL computer collapse. Because I told him to do whatever he had to in order for us to make contact."

" I figured as much." Bill stood up. She could see that his temper was flaring. It figured. He was a proud man and she had gone behind his back in a way that he'd find particularly offensive. " And he has to fix it, doesn't he?"

" I think so." Again she waited.

" You need to step out while I think about this," Bill said, his voice dark with anger.

She rose from the couch. " I understand. But Bill…"

"But what?" he growled.

" Do you want Felix Gaeta to spend the rest of his life in prison for helping us?" Roslin faced Adama and let her voice grow icy. " Because that's what he gets if I ever admit this to one of the Federation officials. They're going to ask you why we changed course and neatly avoided crossing Romulan space. And by the way, do the reading. If we hadn't changed course, the truly lucky ones among us would be dead."

Bill maintained his glare but only for a moment. " Seems to me he's already in trouble, Laura. But no… I don't want that."

" Then we need to make sure that we both agree what we're going to say about the course correction." It was the best she could do. She had asked Gaeta how much trouble he was in, back on the Enterprise, and that was when she realized he was covering for her. The Federation could insist that she not be allowed to continue in the colonial government and she was no fool about how the Quorum would vote if given a choice.

" He deserves better than prison," Bill agreed after a moment. He eyed her, his anger suddenly replaced by amusement. " You thought the gods were speaking through Felix Gaeta? How stupid did you feel when you realized the truth?"

After a moment, she laughed. " I felt like the biggest idiot in the colonies."

Chapter Text

" What is chorizo?" Dee tapped the padd with annoyance. " I don't even know this second word is…" She handed the padd to Felix. He still looked tired, she thought. There was something wrong, she knew him well enough to tell that, and it was serious, whatever it was that was bothering him. She had suggested that they all have breakfast together on their last full day. Tomorrow they would be going back to the Galactica and she could admit, at least to herself, that she wouldn't mind staying a few more days. Partly because it was just… amazing on the Enterprise and partly because she was worried about Felix. So they were in Ten Forward, and it was interesting to her how many people were there. The Enterprise seemed like such a small ship but the officer she had spent time with, Lt. Skorski, had told her that there were over a thousand people on board.

"Chorizo quesadilla…." Felix shrugged. " You might not want to try that." He made a face. " It's spicy… Chorizo is like… really spicy hot ground meat. A breakfast quesadilla is eggs, cheese and this would have chorizo. It's Mexican… Mexican food is really spicy. Like Libran food only worse because there's more types of peppers and they're all hotter."

" Ok…" Libran food was notoriously hot. She would take Felix's word. " What do you suggest for breakfast?" Most of the choices seemed pretty exotic.

" I had something yesterday that was excellent." Helo chimed in. He seemed quite impressed. " It was called pigs in a blanket and it was good. It was like pancakes wrapped around sausage and there was this sauce stuff… It was sweet and… " He stopped. " I don't even know how to describe it."

" Maple syrup," Felix said, smiling slightly. " It's good. We used to make it… my grandmother had sugar maples planted on our land and you have to tap the trees for sap in the winter. You'll have to try the real thing, Karl. The replicators don't get it exactly right. I can't tell now, since it's been so long since we had decent food, everything tastes perfect but… it's better freshly made."

Dee took the padd back. " What do you suggest then? What would your mom make you?"

"Well, for a normal day, we'd just have cereal. On weekends we'd have pancakes or eggs and bacon. Homefries… fried potatoes…. Waffles… On holidays my mom would make tyropita and loukoumas…That's like egg and cheese filled pastries with doughnuts but the replicators don't get that right."

" I'm hungry," Helo said. " I think I'm going with the country breakfast… that's eggs, bacon, sausage, toast, and hashbrowns." He grinned. " It's good we're only staying a couple days. I think I'd get fat."

" I want to try something different," Dee said. She had to admit though, it was nice to know that not everything about Earth was exciting and fancy. Her own family had a similar morning routine, cereal on the weekdays with something a little more fancy on the weekends when there was time. It wasn't different, and that made her feel a little better about all the fancy things they were seeing. It was different on Earth, but she suspected it wasn't completely and unimaginably different.

" You should have French toast," Felix said after a moment. " It's good, and I never found anything like it in the colonies." He looked around. " Isn't Lee coming?"

" Yeah but he got some sort of special call from the Admiral that he had to take." Helo said, " He said to get started without him. Say Felix, aren't we all attending this Cylon briefing later today?" Helo sounded both interested and worried. Dee wasn't surprised. The Federation was interested in the Cylons, she could tell, but they weren't worried. They were more interested in asking about the colonies, and what conditions were like in the fleet. They were nice people, even the non humans like the one she had met while tailing Lt. Skorski that had looked like a walking cat, complete with whiskers and a tail that had quietly asked her if the fleet children needed books or toys. Apparently the crew of the Enterprise had discovered how few children there were and were arranging special packages of necessary items and wanted to make sure there were some treats for the children and not just useful things. It was a nice, thoughtful gesture, especially considering how few treats the children had gotten over the last few years.

Helo was worried about Sharon and Hera. She wasn't sure why. The Starfleet people were squeamish. They weren't likely to suggest something violent or unpleasant, and she doubted the Admiral would agree to it even if they did. Now the Cylon prisoner was a different story, but Sharon was probably safe.

" Yes," Felix said. He looked suddenly nervous as the waiter approached. She wondered why. She knew from talking with him the day before that he didn't know anyone on the ship, so it wasn't like some long lost enemy was approaching. Granted the man was odd looking, with albino white skin and yellow eyes, but he wasn't any odder than the cat person, or the blue people with antennae or any number of others. Still, the odd looking man seemed to upset Felix even as he pleasantly took her and Helo's orders.

"And you, Mr. Gaeta?" The alien asked. He was rather monotone but pleasant sounding. Felix in contrast seemed to be nervous.

" I'd like… an omelet. With feta cheese, tomatos, mushrooms and shrimp.

And coffee." Felix said it carefully. He seemed tense.

" Yes. According to your past history, you prefer Turkish style coffee. Would you like that today?" The alien waited patiently.

"Yes but I would like it in an American style mug. If you don't mind, Mr. Data." Felix said.

" Not at all although I would caution you about caffeine consumption." Mr. Data seemed concerned if a little abrupt.

" I'm sure my caffeine levels, my sleep patterns and my alcohol consumption are all being carefully monitored." Felix spoke carefully. Dee knew him well enough to know that he was at best annoyed and more likely angry and hiding it. He wasn't quite being rude but there was an edge to his voice. " I appreciate the concern, sir, but its just coffee."

" Understood." The alien stepped away. Dee was going to let it pass when Helo began to chuckle.

" You don't like that guy do you?" Helo asked. " You're giving him your 'die Colonel Tigh, die' look. What is he, anyway? I've seen him around. He's like one of the big guys in charge but no one has introduced him. Did you call him Mr. Data?"

" Yes… His name is Data, and he's the second officer, third in command." Felix said quickly. " I don't dislike him. I'd read about him… before, and gone to some lectures. But…he's a special case… he's an android, and after New Caprica… it makes me nervous, and everyone knows it makes me nervous and watches me… And that's why he hasn't been introduced to you."

" An android?" Dee knew she should know the term. It tickled her memory, of old war videos from the first Cylon war.

" A robot… " Felix said. " A robot made to look like a person, only the scientist who created him didn't want anyone mistaking him for human."

" It's a robot? Like a Cylon?" Now her skin was crawling. It wasn't that long ago that the colonies had used robots for menial tasks. Like waiting tables.

" Not like a Cylon," Felix warned. " He's a respected member of the crew. He'll be at the Cylon briefing this afternoon. Try not to let it bother you."

" But it's a robot… Don't they understand how… how awful that is? How it can get out of control?" Dee could only hope she didn't sound as panicked as she felt.

" He, not it, Dee. He's not a Cylon, he's a sentient lifeform and that's a big deal here. He is a Federation citizen and has the same rights I do, or anyone else. And the Federation is probably going to recognize the Cylons as basically sentient as well. Data is the only one of his kind, we're not in any danger of being overrun." Felix sounded more like he was convincing himself than trying to convince her. She wondered about that. Felix had always been… mild when it came to the Cylons. He had always called Sharon by name, and yet he was clearly trying to act calmer than he actually was, and convince her at the same time. It was odd, and it worried her more than the robot itself, who returned with their meals.

For several moments, all they did was eat. The French toast was interesting, and she suspected that the unusual syrup was the same maple syrup that had Helo so entranced. It was good, she couldn't deny that. She had to admit though, she was more amused by Felix saying that a normal everyday breakfast on Earth was cereal. That was the traditional Sagiterron breakfast, which many of the colonists spurned in order to have the fancier perceived Caprican and Picon noodle dishes. It was going to be fun when people realized that. She had read through the treaty offer the night before and it was going to be a lot of fun to see the more virulent Gemonese, Picons and Capricans twist and turn to avoid agreeing to the terms that everyone had to be recognized as equal.

" This Cylon briefing," Helo began again. " How worried are they? I mean… They don't seem that worried but… Still, the Cylons are coming, we know that. I believe you and Captain Picard when you say that the fleet is safe but… I still worry. What if they try to infiltrate like they did before?"

Dee was surprised to see Felix wave off the concern. " Don't worry," he said as he sipped his mug of coffee. " Cylons might look human but a molecular scanner will stop any of them from infiltrating and molecular scans are standard at all space stations and transient points. Just looking human isn't going to work. We don't rely on just looking like a human… a lot of people look human but aren't." He seemed uncomfortable.

" What do you mean?" Dee asked. " Everyone who doesn't seem human… doesn't look human." Granted, she didn't have a huge amount of experience with aliens but in general the non humans looked well… not human.

If anything Felix looked more awkward. " You know… you don't have to look different to not be all human. You met Guinan the bartender…. She's not human at all."

" Really?" Dee asked. The bartender looked as human as she did.

" Yes," Felix said. " She's El-Aurian. That's not human at all. Or Commander Troi. She's half human and half Betazed. Betazoids look human but they're pretty different internally Or… " Felix took a deep breath. " I'm not… entirely human."

" What?" Dee dropped her fork. It was the last thing she ever expected to hear from Felix Gaeta.

He took another deep breath. " I'm not a human being. Not fully. My father was, but my mother was half human and half… Pollux life form." He seemed to take in her shocked look looked both embarrassed and pale at the same time. " It wasn't really something I could tell people… It's not like anyone would've believed me either but I'm… just three quarters human."

" But…" Dee felt almost sick to her stomach. " You're from Earth."

" Yes. I was born on Earth, I'm a citizen of Terra… but I'm not entirely human." Felix looked at her earnestly. " It's not a secret here… I wanted to tell you both before you found out. Lee found out and he was… upset and I didn't want you two to find out the way he did, I wanted to tell you myself."

And as much as she was certain that it was not something that Felix was finding easy to talk about, she just didn't care. " You're not…" She couldn't even say it, because it felt so awful. Like when they had been applauding Boomer and then Boomer had pulled a gun and shot the Admiral. I can't do this, she thought as she rose to her feet. I need to think, to think about things.

~*~

Gods, what is going on, Karl thought as Dee jumped to her feet and almost ran out of Ten Forward. Am I the only one who can cope?

" You can leave if you want," Felix said quietly. His hands encircled the mug of coffee he had been drinking from. " I don't mind. I know it's a shock."

The problem, Karl thought was two fold. He had already figured that Felix Gaeta, who was a friend of his after all was said and done, and a better friend than he had originally thought back when he had first met the man on the Galactica, was seriously troubled. Helo rather agreed with the bartender who had suggested that Felix had lost his life not just once but three times in the past ten years. What he had just said, it wasn't an easy admission to make. Not to people who treated Cylons like inanimate objects. And he had to admit, the thing with the android having equal rights sounded very promising. And… that led to the second issue.

" Why? You're not any different than you were ten minutes ago." And he would need to have that conversation with Dee as well. And more bluntly because whatever Felix was, he had still saved the lives of everyone on New Caprica. More importantly, Helo had the suspicion that what Felix had just said wasn't a big deal in the Federation at all. Felix himself was a Starfleet officer, and so were his sisters and his mother. His half human mother. Cmdr. Troi was apparently some sort of half human, half alien as well, and she seemed to be well respected. He had done a little reading the last few nights, more out of concern for Sharon and Hera than anything else and… The United Federation of Planets considered any sentient life form a valid citizen, worthy of rights.

In the colonies, he was only considered a married man because the Admiral had made an exception. His wife was an object, and his daughter's status had yet to be determined. He didn't want his daughter raised as an object and living in fear of being locked up on the whim of whoever was in charge. And what if there were more children? The President had ordered an abortion the last time, and that had only been averted by chance. He wondered if Federation law would take precedence over the Colonial one. Probably so. Then he could always fight for his family in Federation courts. That was pleasing.

" So you're not entirely human," he said after a moment. " My daughter isn't entirely human. It happens. I'd be a real asshole if I got upset over it. Dee is just surprised but she'll get over it." He might have to have a chat with her but he'd be damned if she wasn't smiling and pleasant for the meeting they were all going to later. She owed Felix that much.

"Hmm… the not entirely human part was just the start," Felix said after a moment. He chuckled suddenly. " You're making this easier, Karl. I never actually have had to tell people before. Everyone knows. Everyone will know… Lee figured it out yesterday… That's probably why he's late, he's telling the Admiral."

"Don't worry about it. At least you're not a Cylon." Helo made a point of acting cheerful. " I'll have to buy you a drink tonight."

" Why?"

" Sharon and I had a bet that you were really a Cylon." He grinned. " I defended you… I said hey, he's probably just from Earth, that explains the weirdness, but Sharon was all 'no he's a Cylon spy…. '. She was really suspicious. Honestly, I almost believed her."

The truth was up until ten days earlier, he had been in agreement with Sharon. Ever since New Caprica, when Felix had come off the surface with none of the sicknesses or disorders that everyone else had brought back, he had wondered. Sharon had been positive. Maybe he's a one off, she had said once late at night, some failed experiment that hadn't been rounded up. It was the only way she could explain his affinity for their technology, his acknowledgment of her as a person.

It also explained how he had survived four months of living at close quarters with Cylons.

Felix eyed him. " You thought I was a Cylon and you didn't say anything? Why not?"

" You weren't hurting anyone. You never hurt anyone and I'm not an idiot, I can guess why you never said anything about the Circle. It would have killed the old man but he would have believed you, and we needed Kara flying then. And…" Helo stopped. He had gone too far.

" And what?"

" You were depressed and blaming yourself and if I had said it, that you were a Cylon… I don't think you would have denied it. And you would have been executed and right after New Caprica… I just didn't want to see it. Hardly any of my friends came off the surface, but you did, and you got the codes that let us rescue everyone." Helo shrugged. " I figured that if you were a Cylon, you sure weren't a very good one, and if you weren't… if there was something else going on… It wasn't hurting anyone." He felt lame saying it but it was the truth.

" That… that I'm not entirely human… That wasn't the only thing I was going to tell you." Felix said it hesitantly. " It might change your mind."

" No. It won't." Helo said. " Come on, I'm the toaster frakker. You're still more acceptable."

Chapter Text

Reg Barclay felt silly in a Colonial flight suit. He felt especially silly in the dark sunglasses that Kara Thrace insisted as his "disguise". He also could see that the other pilot, Racetrack from the night before, wasn't very happy about the change in plans. "Really, I don't want anyone to get into trouble…"

"No one is going to get into trouble, Reg." Kara said it easily. Too easily. She winked at him. " You're supposed to follow me through my typical duties right? Well, as the acting CAG, I am sometimes required to fly patrols."

" When was the last time you flew a regular Raptor patrol?" Racetrack asked, her tone filled with annoyance and amusement.

Kara tossed a flight helmet at her. "Obviously not recently enough, if you think you can take that sort of tone with me, Lieutenant." It was said in a joking tone, which eased his mind just a little. In contrast to the night before, Kara seemed to be in a fine mood, but he wondered. He certainly didn't know the woman that well, but she didn't seem like the sort of person who simply got over things. She was one of the people that had tried to murder Felix Gaeta. She had also been badly shocked by what Lt. Jarman had said the night before. Her calmness was a little eerie.

Racetrack rolled her eyes. " The Admiral said we weren't supposed to explain the FTL drive to our guests."

Kara patted Reg on the back. " Reg here is just going ride along and watch and not ask one question. Right Reg?" She winked at him.

" Right. I am just watching and following along." Of course a great deal could be learned from watching, but he suspected both Kara and Racetrack knew that.

" Think of Reg as a piece of furniture from Earth," Kara said cheerfully as the three of them strode towards the Raptor.

" I don't like it," Racetrack muttered. Still, she didn't protest any further and in seconds he was sitting in a small hard seat inside the Raptor. Racetrack handed him a helmet. " Put this on, put on the safety harness, and remember, no questions about the drive."

He nodded. That wasn't currently what he had questions about. The flight suit he was wearing was interesting. The pilots wore them as clothes and he could see why, the suit was very comfortable, but that was partly what made it so interesting. Both Kara and Racetrack had given him a quick lecture on its properties. It was essentially an emergency EVA suit when the helmet was on, and he'd never been in a protective suit that wasn't somewhat bulky. The Galactica's flight suit in contrast was almost like wearing regular clothes, and yet both pilots told him it could keep him alive for hours on a hostile planet or even in empty space.

Which meant they had more than just an FTL drive to bargain with, after all was said and done. I will include that in my report, he told himself. That was for later, though. Now he watched intently as Racetrack's hands flew over the computers. And Racetrack, for all her protests, almost immediately began explaining what she was doing. Not in lengthy technical detail but enough that he could follow along. It was simple to use. He wasn't really surprised. The Galactica was almost a shrine to simple usage. Colonial technology was deceptively primitive. They didn't have dilithium or warp or subspace, but everything they did have was refined and uncomplicated. As he watched Racetrack prepare for the FTL jump, he found himself smiling. It looked impossible and daunting when he had first seen the ships of the fleet flit away like magic, but watching Racetrack, and examining the drive while it was being charged for use, that made all of his theories collapse. It really was genius. A genius design…Of course he wouldn't say anything until after the treaty was signed, but already he could see the possibilities.

" Get ready…" Racetrack said. He heard Kara laugh. The wireless in the helmet wasn't bad either, and he added that to the list of questions he had for Felix. Then he just stopped as a weird, intense physical sensation overtook him. It felt as though every cell in his body turned inside out. For a moment, a long moment, it felt as though time itself had stopped.

" What…" he sputtered. " What was that?"

" That," Kara said with obvious amusement, " was your first jump. Weird, isn't it?"

" Don't worry," Racetrack said, her expression cheerful and suddenly much younger. She was maybe twenty five or twenty six, and Kara Thrace wasn't much older at twenty nine. Racetrack leaned back in her chair, and gestured to the bank of computers and scanners. " Now we basically sit here and watch for Cylons."

He watched the screens for a few minutes. The colonials didn't have scanners in the same sense that the Enterprise did. Their scans were short and seemed more military orientated. With their communication equipment so limited, if they did find something on the scans, the standard protocol was to jump back to the Galactica. The scans were fairly basic, the most sophisticated being the dradis scan that was like a jumped up form of radar. He watched as Racetrack began to power down the FTL drive. " Why are you doing that? Isn't it safer to have it ready to use?"

" Yeah," Racetrack said easily," but it burns fuel like a motherfrakker and we can only carry so much. Besides it loads up in seconds. Watch." She went through the steps and it come online in a matter of seconds. She seemed amused by his worry. " It's pretty easy."

" Maybe not as soft as those fancy runabouts." Kara said with a chuckle. " Did you look in any of them, Racetrack? I swear I saw leather cushioned seats in one."

" Pretty nice," Racetrack agreed. She gestured again to the scanners. " Basically now we sit here and monitor everything. It's pretty boring. We usually just talk or play cards. Unless a Cylon appears." She paused. " So… I heard from people in the bar that you went… to school with Lt. Gaeta…."

" We're not discussing Lt. Gaeta." Kara didn't turn away from piloting to look at them. She didn't have to. Her sudden growling tone was warning enough. After a lengthy moment of silence she then said," Let's talk about something else. Where are you from, Reg?"

" Um… Earth." He was almost certain that wasn't what she meant though.

" Yeah we figured that, but where? Equatorial region? Some weird little desert town where everyone marries their cousin?" She snickered suddenly. " You don't seem like a big city guy."

"No…" She sounded calmer already, so he was more than willing to go along with the change in topic. It wasn't as though the stories about studying subspace physics were that interesting. He could see that Racetrack was interested as well, and it wasn't often he had two attractive women asking him questions about himself. " I'm from Nuuk. It's the capital of Greenland."

" Greenland…" Racetrack smiled. " I grew up in a place called Green Valley. Nothing but horse farms and grassy meadows." She sounded wistful. " Is it like that?"

" No… It's in the polar regions and most of the land is covered in glacial ice. They said… in history class, that the man who led the first expedition there called it Greenland so that more people would come to settle." He hesitated. "I grew up there. My dad was the head of the climatology department at the University of Greenland. It's… kind of a backwater. But there are places like what you said," he added after a moment. " Kentucky is like what you described, Racetrack. It's green… They're famous for the grass and all the horses…. We went there once for well… a horse race and it was so green…."

Racetrack smiled slightly. " It sounds nice… but I bet you had a lot of fun with the cold weather too…."

" Sometimes…." He hadn't always liked the cold, or having to chase polar bears away from the trash, but the older he got, the more he understood why his mother and father both loved it there. There was an icy beauty to the place, something he hadn't really understood as a child.

Racetrack nodded and turned back to the monitors. Her slightly wistful expression vanished. " Frak! Starbuck! On dradis!"

Reg looked over her shoulder. A blip had appeared in the middle of the screen. It was like radar, and he could see a target moving in. He looked up. The Raptor had a surprisingly large viewing windows and he could see a small ship. It looked almost like a flying wing with a glowing red eye and it was swooping down towards them. A Cylon, he realized, feeling a sudden cold ball of fear in his stomach.

The Raptor rolled steeply and he grabbed a handhold. " What do we do?"

" A Raptor can't outmaneuver a Raider," Kara shouted. "Racetrack!"

"I'm on it!" Racetrack shouted back. She frantically typed on a keyboard. Reg watched in sick fascination as the Cylon Raider bored down on them. He sat down and grabbed a handhold as the Raptor rocked. Whatever Kara Thrace's problems were, and he had already gotten the idea that she wasn't the most stable of people, she was one hell of a pilot. Eerily good, especially since by her cursing, he could tell the Raptor wasn't as responsive as she preferred. He turned his attention to Racetrack. She was punching in jump coordinates, he realized. That was good.

And then the Raptor rocked and spun, taking a glancing blow. He could feel it flip over and he saw Racetrack get flung from her seat. After a moment the ship stabilized.

" You all right?" Kara called back.

He looked back at Racetrack. She was crumpled in the corner, her eyes closed and her arm at an odd angle. " Racetrack! She's hurt… unconscious… the safety straps on her seat broke." He let go of the handhold and crawled to where Racetrack was lying. A look answered the unspoken question. " She's alive!"

" Fine! Now get in her seat and fire up the godsdamned drive!" Kara shouted.

" But…" It clicked suddenly. Kara was the pilot and she was excellent, but she couldn't twist the Raptor out of the Cylon's fire and restart the jump drive. Which meant that he had to rely on his memory.

Fortunately he had a good memory. He got into the seat and looked at what Racetrack had already done. She had all the jump coordinates in. All he needed to do was restart the engine and then he assumed there was just a button to push. Restart, he thought grimly, I just saw it and it's so simple. That was the genius of Colonial technology. It was easy and it made sense. He flicked switches and suddenly he felt the drive hum to life. " It's on! What do I do now?"

"They want to ram! Hit the green button!" Kara shouted.

He turned to look. The Cylon raider was bearing down on them like an eagle with talons bared. He looked down and slammed his hand down on the green glowing button. He was absolutely certain he was screaming. The Raider was so close….

And then the strange inside out sensation washed over him and suddenly the colonial fleet loomed in front of them. He tried to stop yelling, only to have Kara join in, whooping with glee. She unhooked from the pilot seat and came back, slapping him on the back. " I knew you were good for something," she said, a grin plastered on her face.

" What about Racetrack?" he asked worriedly once he could do something other than breathe from relief.

Kara took a look. " Doesn't look too bad but we'll need medical." She got back in her seat. " Galactica, this is Starbuck. We are requesting emergency medical attention."

The wireless crackled in Reg's ear. " Starbuck this is Galactica Actual. Report."

Kara began maneuvering the Raptor towards the Galactica's landing deck. " Enemy contact sir. Looked like a scout. Racetrack is hurt. Looks like a busted arm, maybe a concussion."

" Copy." The wireless crackled again. " Who was howling through the wireless?" Adama sounded genuinely puzzled.

Kara chuckled. " That was just Mad Dog sir. He was a little excited."

" Who… get the damn raptor landed."

After a moment, the landing deck captain came on the line and Reg let himself relax just a little in the hard seat. The landing itself was smooth and uneventful. He could see one of the Starfleet medical personnel waiting with Dr. Cottle, and he was careful to not get in the way as they jumped into the Raptor.

" This isn't bad," Cottle said quickly.

" No," the Vulcan doctor said as she waved a small tricorder. " A moderate concussion and broken ulnar."

"Like I said," Cottle muttered. " Not bad!" In seconds the medical team had taken Racetrack out. Kara came up beside him and undid his helmet. Hers was already off.

" You're good, Reg." She said it like she hadn't really considered it possible. " I'll buy you a drink tonight. But first, look over there." She led him out of the Raptor and down the small ramp.

Admiral Adama was waiting, with Worf at his side. He looked worried. " Starbuck, what happened?"

Kara made a point of coming to attention. " We were scanning, sir. The Cylon jumped in and came right at us. Racetrack's safety harness snapped, so Mad Dog took over. Damn lucky too, we jumped back just in time. The gun camera films are going to be amazing."

" Mad Dog…." Adama looked him in the eye and then looked at the flight suit. To Kara he said, " You took one of the exchange officers on a patrol?"

" Well, he was supposed to follow me through my day sir," Kara said, obviously struggling not to smile. " It's a good thing too. We'd be dead if he hadn't been there. The Cylon was all over us, and with Racetrack down, it would just have been a matter of time until we were picked off."

"Right…" Adama turned his attention back to Reg. He held out his hand and Reg shook it nervously. " I suspected that Captain Picard had a fine crew, but it's always nice to see the evidence first hand. Good job… Mad Dog." To Kara he added, " I expect the two of you to give me a full report in a half hour and I want the gun camera film as well. I need to let Captain Picard know there's a threat."

He stepped away. Worf started to follow, but as he passed, he gave Barclay a rare look of amusement. " Mad Dog… that's a warrior's name."

Reg nodded, but the truth was, he just wanted to throw up.

Chapter Text

"Did you hear one of those Starfleet guys got drunk off his ass on ambrosia," one of the young marines said as they prepared for duty.

Venner, the sergeant, listened halfheartedly. Gossip about the Starfleet officers was all well and good but he was more concerned with their upcoming mission. Guarding the food supplies as they were being distributed to the different ships was tricky and exhausting. The admiral had made it very clear that the distributions were to be orderly and non violent. That meant no weapons other than pepper spray and he wasn't all that certain that years old pepper spray would work, let alone hold back a wild crowd.

" Yeah, he was drunk all right. Frakking lightweights all of them," said the other private. " But he said something about Lt. Gaeta…"

Venner listened. He'd never had a problem with Gaeta. A prissy bastard, but fair with duty and with inspections, and he'd been an enlisted marine before becoming a fleet officer. Marine Basic was hard core tough, Venner had hated every minute of it, and he knew how rare it was for someone to get the golden ticket to the Academy. Which meant Gaeta wasn't just the typical chicken shit deck officer.

Getting them to Earth was a nice plus as well.

The second private continued, " He said… Lt. Gaeta was Apollo's grandson. Like in the prophecies."

The first private scoffed. " I never read a prophecy that said Apollo had kids."

" You two!" Venner shouted. "Shut up and get your gear ready. You're burning daylight and we need to be on the deck ready to go in ten minutes." The two young marines scurried to finish preparing.

That gave Venner a few moments to think. His mother and father had been true believers, believers of all the scripture, not just the convenient ones, and he knew the prophecies that the young Leonid private had so openly derided. Apollo would send his child, when the people were in dire crisis, to save the chosen.

His duty was on the Gemini Traveler, and that was fortunate indeed. Many of the remaining religious scholars lived there.

~*~

She hurt. Her head ached fiercely and her arm… it burned like it was on fire. Margaret "Racetrack" Edmonson opened her eyes, and found herself staring up into the face of… "You're an elf… I didn't know there'd be elves in the Elysium Fields."

The elf looked down at her. " You're not dead," and it sounded female and curtly annoyed, " and I am not an elf. Dr. Cottle, Lt. Edmonson is awake."

Cottle was suddenly there, and Racetrack began to understand. She hadn't been killed, Kara had somehow gotten them to safety, and oddly the headache was quickly fading. Faster than it should, she'd had concussions before. Cottle looked down at her. " How are you feeling? Dr. T'Kil tried some Starfleet quackery, and I want to make sure it doesn't kill you."

The elf, the Vulcan, Racetrack corrected herself, looked at Cottle and arched her eyebrow. " You have a truly terrible bed side manner."

Cottle lit up a cigarette. " Yeah. And you have pointed ears. Now that we've both stated the obvious, Racetrack, how is your head?"

" It… its not really hurting now…." Which was nice, because the initial wake up had hurt like hell, but it also allowed her to focus on her arm and how it hurt. " My arm…"

The Vulcan looked at Cottle, who nodded and then to her. " We will treat that in a similar fashion," T'Kil said, as she began to apply some odd metallic looking devices to Racetrack's arm. Almost immediately the pain was eased. T'Kil moved to her side and helped her sit up. Then she applied an unusual looking splint. " Your arm will be healed within the hour. Normally I would allow you to leave but Dr. Cottle is… being cautious so you'll need to stay for a few hours."

" I want to make sure all this new stuff frakking works," Cottle added. He gestured to the nearly empty sickbay. " No one has died yet so chances are good that you'll live." He took a long drag and smiled as a hugely pregnant woman walked into the sickbay. " Looks like the twins are arriving. Ever had a baby, Dr. T'kil?"

" I have had three," T'Kil said, her tone deadpan.

" Then you know you'll probably want to wear gloves for this." Cottle chuckled and strode off to the pregnant woman. T'Kil didn't say anything but Racetrack sensed the alien woman was annoyed.

" Dr. Cottle is always like this," Racetrack said helpfully. " It's not you. And thank you, my head and arm feel much better." In fact she could almost feel the healing take place.

T'Kil eyed her. " There is no need for thanks. I am a physician, therefore I heal injuries." She paused. " Dr. Cottle is much like my first human mentor." Then she handed Racetrack a computer padd. " Many of the patients waiting are reading the treaty offer. You could do that if you like. Or, if you like stories about elves, you could read this." T'Kil pointed to a reading choice.

" The Hobbit?" It didn't sound interesting but it had been so long since she'd had anything to read that wasn't a report about Cylons.

" It's a classic of Earth literature," T'Kil said. They both looked as a piercing wail came from the pregnant woman. T'Kil frowned. " I must assist. Prenatal care has been almost non-existent here." She strode off, but after a moment Racetrack didn't care, as she began to take in the tale of Bilbo Baggins.

~*~

" Is that from the Earth people," Sheri asked Cally as she fingered Nicholas's new outfit.

" Yes," Cally said excitedly as she pulled her friend into their quarters. " They had packages for all the kids. Mostly things like clothes and blankets and soap…" And it had hurt a little, taking charity, but she had agreed with what Galen had said the night before, when the box had been delivered. The holy scrolls said that accepting charity gracefully when in need was a virtue, and they just had to remember to give charity freely when they were able. And Nicholas had never had new clothes or bedding. She pointed to the brightly colored comforter that already lined Nicholas's bed. " Here, let me show you… There were even some story books and toys."

" Bear!" Nicholas added cheerfully, reaching out to the stuffed animal that was on his small bed. Cally set him down on the bed and returned her attention to Sheri. " It's just nice that he can play with something that's not… one of our tools, you know?"

" Yeah, and I never thought we'd live to see Earth, to tell you the truth," Sheri said. " So… are you sure Chief Tyrol won't mind my borrowing it?"

" No… Just be careful with it." Cally sniffed as she took the small book down from their makeshift bookshelf. " Why do you want it, anyway?"

"Oh I heard something last night…." Sheri shrugged nervously. " I'm not… you know, religious but… They said something about Lt. Gaeta and the Scroll of Apollo and I wanted to see what they meant…."

~*~

" It could be blasphemy," Mariah Hastings the senior priestess in his faction said. " The 13th Colonists appear to be enamored with secular humanism, and this could be an initial attempt to undermine our faith. Still…There are still a few who disagree with the interpretation of the Pythian Prophecies made by and for President Roslin. Despite finding the Temple of Athena, there are still minor factions who don't believe Laura Roslin is the leader of the prophecy. This… rumor… could be a reaction to that, to discredit her claims.

" And that…" Tom Zarek said, his eyes sparkling, "Could be very good news for me."

~*~

Gauis Baltar looked down at the tray of food. " Why am I not receiving any of the new food rations?"

The guards chuckled. " Because prisoners," the female guard snarled, " don't rate special rations. You're getting an extra ration bar. So shut up."

" If you're quiet," the male guard said, " We'll let you listen to the big wireless show."

" Yeah, President Roslin and the second in command of the Enterprise, are going to talk about the treaty offer and take questions." The female guard eyed him carefully. " So its your choice. Take your breakfast and be quiet and get to listen to the show, or keep mouthing off and go sit in the solitary cell. Remember what happened the last time you were in the solitary cell? Lt. Gaeta stabbed you."

Baltar took the tray without another word. The taunts of the guards were just that, taunts. He was no fool. The arrival of the Earth ship dramatically increased the chance that he would someday be freed. The Federation, as it called itself, was clearly a more lawful state than the dictatorship of Laura Roslin and her lapdog Bill Adama. He had been allowed a paper copy of the treaty offer and had realized with no small amount of glee that the Federation was not going to stand for a prisoner being locked up without a trial. And guilty as he was, there was nothing that anyone could prove.

Even accusing Felix Gaeta of being a Cylon could be argued as a self defense measure. He rather doubted Felix would even be willing to press that charge, since it led directly to the lieutenant's oh so charming attack. The memory of that attack burned almost as much as the new knowledge that he had been completely wrong about his ex assistant and aide.

But he wanted to hear the wireless show and that meant appeasing the guards, who weren't in bad moods from what he could tell. They were snickering over a Starfleet officer getting drunk Clods, he thought darkly.

" The president and a Starfleet officer, answering questions from the populace," chimed a sultry voice, " Charming, isn't it? It should have been you there."

He didn't look up. It was her, of course. " It's not."

" No," Six cooed in his ear. " They're foolish, all humans are… but they're not so foolish that they'd ever let you have power again. But… I think you should listen to this wireless broadcast very carefully."

" Why?" he muttered darkly, willing himself to not get aroused by her voice.

" Because the public is finding out something you already knew." She kissed his lips. " Did you think I'd forget your love of revenge? Do you like seeing little Felix, your sad little errand boy who tried to kill you held up as a hero?"

" No…." If only because it made one Gauis Baltar look like a fool. Up until their discovery of Starfleet and the Federation, he had been quite willing to forgive and forget Felix. A regrettable loss really, Gaeta and his naïve honesty and sense of duty had eased the way more than once. But while he could conceivably admit if just to himself that he had pushed Gaeta into a breakdown, he couldn't forgive the man tricking him like he had tricked so many others. There was a part of him, a very small part to be sure, that was jealous of Felix Gaeta's ability to lie.

Six nibbled on his ear. " You'll remember… and you'll have your chance for revenge."

Chapter Text

Will Riker adjusted his dress uniform and looked at himself in the mirror. He looked sharp. Just like how a Starfleet officer engaged in a diplomatic mission should look, he thought with a grin. It was a part of his job and he prided himself on doing it well. Establishing diplomatic relations with a human population that had no prior contact with any sentient life was extremely challenging. More challenging, in some ways, than meeting a non human society. Even the most isolated colonies in the Federation knew something about other societies and accepted the reality that humanity evolved on Earth. The Colonials in contrast had for generations viewed Earth as a myth, a story like Atlantis or Lemuria. They never had a proper, actual first contact, as the only non-human intelligent species they ever had anything to do with was one of their own making. That had involved a devastating war forty five years ago and then the devastating attack and destruction of their home planets and the deaths of almost thirty billion people. Then, they had thought they had found safety only to have that safety yanked away from them, losing almost twelve percent of the remaining survivors.

The people of the Twelve Colonies had reason to be afraid of the future. His job looked simple on the surface. He was to present a positive face to them, to show them that the Federation was there to help, and wasn't going to screw them over. They had all the reasons to be afraid, and he didn't want to belittle that. At the same time, he both wanted and needed to be reassuring.

And it was a new experience to make first contact with humans. He'd read about such things in history class. Jim Kirk and the Magna Romans…. There were many examples with James Kirk but for a variety of reasons he wanted to avoid discussion of James Kirk. The Colonials would learn the facts of Pollux 4 soon enough. There was no need to smack them in their faces with it. And Starfleet diplomacy had moved beyond James Kirk, although Will Riker suspected that Kirk would have liked the Colonials. And Jim Kirk would have cheerfully avoided the whole topic of Apollo.

Riker put it out of his mind as he left the large group bathroom. He would have preferred that Felix Gaeta's ancestry be kept quiet, for a variety of reasons. The biggest reason of course was that it was inflammatory. It was unfortunate that it had to be one of the Palamas family that had ended up with them, because it was touchy. It was unfortunate, he thought, and stupid because it came from one of their people being stupid. The only reason he hadn't sent Lt. Luthor "Tex" Jarman back to the Enterprise for a well earned tongue lashing was that he didn't want to grant what had been said even more importance in the eyes of the people of the colonial fleet.

Most of the people in the fleet weren't ready to hear about human hybrids. The truth was that there were humans on Earth and the various settled worlds that weren't jumping from joy at the idea of humans interbreeding with non humans. And they had close to two hundred years to get used to the concept. Ironically, the Palamas family was on the surface, one of the least exotic looking mixes that were out there in the galaxy. They looked human, and even a genetic scan said that they were human. Just… a variation of human. To him of course, with his... history with Deanna Troi, such issues hardly mattered. Human hybrids were a fact of life.

But the paranoia was already out there. He had heard it and witnessed it. There were people grateful to Felix Gaeta, of that he had no doubt. Riker was certain that there was no serious anger, at least not on the Galactica. He was of the opinion that the flashes of anger they had seen initially were mostly from shock. He thought Gaeta would be safe if he was brought over to assist with the engine problem. There definitely was a severe problem with the FTL drive and most of the CIC crew were vocal in wishing that they had Gaeta around to fix it.

Which, considering what he knew of Felix Gaeta's hybrid talents, was interesting but hardly damning. The Colonials would have run into Federation ships eventually. If the man had done something, it had been to speed up the inevitable and to save lives. Still, the part god talk was circulating. He suspected the remaining group that was still angry would be tempted to make a point about Gaeta not being a god. Which meant that Gaeta would need an escort. Which, Riker suspected, would be perceived as rude at best, as it implied the Colonials were not capable of doing this job properly themselves. It also implied that the Colonials couldn't be trusted not to murder Gaeta.

And that completely ignored the fact that Lt. Cmdr. Felix Gaeta was at best passively suicidal and would likely not give a damn about his safety. Which was another problem.

But not the problem he was facing today. The press conference was tricky but he hoped that it would ease fears as well. The Enterprise didn't have the manpower to put people on every ship in the fleet and he wasn't so sure that people would be safe. The Galactica was disciplined but a rough crowd and he was absolutely positive that Admiral Adama had warned all of his people to be on their best behavior. He had been on a few of the other ships, with some of the early food deliveries and while he was certain that the panic and desperation was leveling off a bit, he had no doubt that the colonial marines needed to be sent with the food shipments. It also meant that he couldn't allow any of the exchange officers other than the medical personnel, who were escorted by marines to the various ship clinics, to roam around the fleet. The wireless broadcast was partly to answer questions and partly to ease the fears of people who had received so much startling new information.

The walk to the special briefing room was brief but it gave him a little time to focus his thoughts. The truth was that Starfleet didn't have a really good idea of what the Colonists would do. Roslin had been clear in other wireless broadcasts that she preferred the option of colonizing a new world, and Vice President Zarek, an often mentioned but still unknown figure, had endorsed it as well. That was good. He was starting to get a feel for the people of the colonies and while they were definitely good people, they weren't going to fit in on Earth. Plus, their traditions and customs, perhaps too martial for Earth, were still worth preserving. That wouldn't happen if they went to live on Earth.

The room dedicated to the wireless broadcast was already bustling with activity, but he wasn't surprised that all of the civilians in the large space turned to look at him. The Galactica was a military ship and even in the cramped conditions, the mass of civilians that lived on the ship was being kept highly segregated. He had originally considered the possibility that Adama was something of a tyrant and didn't want the civilians to see that the military people were living better. But after two days aboard the Galactica, Riker could see the wisdom in the restriction. The military quarters were actually more cramped than the civilian emergency quarters on the unused flight deck, and the ship itself was a maze of corridors, easy to get lost in. Even on the Enterprise, civilians weren't allowed to roam wherever they pleased and the Galactica wasn't designed for civilian living at all.

That meant though, that he had met hardly any civilians that weren't connected to the government. He smiled warmly at the curious people as he made his way over to President Roslin. It was interesting to see what passed for fashion with the people of the fleet. It all looked so quaint, like an old video of people from the early 21st century. He could easily pick out the reporters and various dignitaries by the conservative, clean, suits and dresses. That was in contrast to the camera crews who had a more ragged appearance, and even the nicely attired people had a threadbare look. At the same time, there was a touch of excitement and fun in the air. He stepped around the camera men and over to Roslin.

"Commander Riker," she said, smiling. She looked him over. " You look very official and uncomfortable in your uniform. Are you ready?"

" Yes." He gestured to the lay out of the room. " How exactly are we going to do this?"

" You and I will sit on that raised dais." Roslin led him over to the two comfortable looking chairs that were set up. " The reporters will sit behind those tables in front. They'll be asking questions and we'll also be taking questions from the people watching in the fleet." She looked at him. " I should warn you, this is essentially a town hall meeting. While we've had to suspend some liberties, with the gravity of the treaty and potential profit it will bring, in a new home and new technology and opportunity, I can't in good consciousness not allow the people to speak their minds and ask the questions that might concern them. In other words, be prepared for tough questions. The questions aren't being screened." She waited.

" I wouldn't have it any other way," Riker said pleasantly. " Hard questions are expected with a situation like this." Mentally his estimation of her went up a great deal. There was fear that President Laura Roslin was essentially a dictator in all but name, but he was starting to see that she didn't expect to remain in power illegally. The treaty provisions for democratic elections weren't going to be a problem. Dictators who intended to grind down the populace rarely allowed free questioning. He was about to suggest that they sit down when a handsome older gentleman in a nice suit and the regalia of the officials of the government strode into the room. The man exuded confidence and while a variety of the reporters and camera men looked surprised, the interloper seemed completely at ease.

"Madame President," the man said, making a courtly semi bow, " I was afraid I would miss this." He smiled winningly and held out his hand to Riker. " I'm afraid we haven't had the chance to be introduced due to security issues. I am Vice President Tom Zarek."

Riker shook the proffered hand. Zarek had the look of a man that wasn't afraid of much. He also got the immediate impression that Tom Zarek was not only highly intelligent but also used his charm as a weapon. A politician, perhaps more of one than Laura Roslin, if the firm handshake and toothy smile was any sign. " It's a pleasure."

" I thought," Roslin said carefully, " That we agreed that you and I weren't to be on the same ship until further notice." She was annoyed, Riker could tell despite her pleasant smile.

Zarek grinned. " Oh come on, Laura. The Galactica is perfectly safe and I have been missing all of the fun being stuck on the Astral Queen. Besides I think it's important we show a united front. The people need to see that their leaders are in agreement." To Riker, he added, " I am in complete agreement with President Roslin that our best choice is to accept the Federation's generous offer. Of course, as elected stewards of the people, I am sure that both President Roslin and I want the best possible resolution for our people." He crossed his arms. " The United Federation of Planets has a lot of fascinating differences. I hope at some point we'll have a chance to discuss them."

" Of course," Riker said. The problem was that Tom Zarek, no matter how pleasant he appeared, reminded Will Riker of a snake. Then again, he was never overly fond of professional politicians to begin with. Laura Roslin had the feel of someone foisted into her position. Tom Zarek in contrast had the feel of a professional, someone who had no problem actively seeking power. " I'm curious Mr. Zarek…what did you do before the Cylon invasion?"

Zarek blinked. " I was a political activist and an author. I brought a copy of my book for your captain as a gift."

" A political activist? Is that what we call it now?" Roslin asked, her tone amused.

" That's what the Federation calls it," Zarek said, his tone chiding but also amused. That, more than anything, made Riker think that Zarek was lying in some way. Gaeta had said something about Zarek, something not terribly pleasant, but it hadn't been harsh enough to stick in his mind. Still, Roslin clearly wasn't happy that he was there, and it was obvious that her staff was surprised to see Zarek either. That was interesting and potentially bad. The Colonials had enough problems without major upheavals caused by two political rams slamming into each other, and Zarek had come purely to make that point.

Roslin eyed him, her faint annoyance magnified by her quaint reading glasses. " Oh Tom… of course you should be here. We need a united front more than ever." And suddenly the staff was bustling and a third chair was added to the raised dais.

It was a challenging press conference. Riker quickly put aside any thought he had that the Colonials weren't politically savvy or familiar with the democratic process. There were some very thoughtful questions asked about the potential new colony, whether visiting Earth would be allowed, and exactly how much support the FTL drive was going to buy them. It was a bit mercenary, but also realistic. There was clearly a lot of fear at the idea of settling and he was pleased to be able to discuss what typical planetary defenses would look like. It was also helpful to see the concern. They could probably offer more protection if negotiations became a problem.

Many of the questions he took were about Earth itself. What it was like, where he was from, what sort of things did people do. The questions about Starfleet were generally about its structure and the Prime Directive, and he could see that there wasn't really a lot of information circulating. There were also a great deal of interest in the technology of the Enterprise. Still the hard questions were going to Roslin and he was impressed with how thoroughly she had read the treaty offer and grasped its implications.

" Ultimately," she said brightly to a question from a concerned parent, " we will have to accept a lot of new ideas and thoughts, even if we decided against accepting the Federation offer. Our children, no matter what we do, will grow up and live in a society that is much different than the ones we lived in. I believe that our best choice is to accept the Federation's offer and become Federation citizens. Our way of life will carry on, and it is possible for our people to remain distinct but still be Federation citizens. I've read the information they've brought, we've all asked Commander Riker a lot of excellent questions. The laws of the Federation are only a little different than ours, and the differences I have found reflect a society that has had the luxury of safety that we have lacked the last four years."

Riker could see that most of the reporters and participants were nodding in agreement. Even Zarek, who had the feel of the opposition was nodding agreement. He was beginning to see why Laura Roslin was president. She certainly knew how to work a crowd. And then:

" I'm Sarah Porter, Quorum Representative for Gemenon, currently residing on the Rising Star." The wireless crackled with static but the room was suddenly quiet. Riker tensed just a little himself. The Gemonese were the faction most likely to have a problem with some of the Federation's laws. The wireless crackled again. " My question is for Cmdr. Riker. Commander, is it true that Lt. Felix Gaeta is in fact the grandson of Apollo? The Lord Apollo?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Riker saw Zarek grin. A set up, he realized. He had hoped that they would get through the press conference without that particular question being asked. Fortunately, he had prepared for it. " Lt. Cmdr. Gaeta is a Starfleet officer and a citizen of Earth and of the United Federation of Planets. His ancestry is considered his personal business. However I have asked his permission to discuss it, just in case this question was asked." Because if they were to be Federation citizens, they needed to understand that the Federation had a different take on sentient rights and all that. " His grandfather was a non human life form of the planet Pollux 4 which claimed to be Apollo, one of the gods once worshipped on Earth." He was certain that the wireless equipment picked up the gasp of shock from the audience in the room. He ignored it. " However, though the entity had admitted to having masqueraded as a god on Earth, that doesn't mean it was actually a god, as in a supernatural being or that there's anything sacred about Lt. Cmdr. Gaeta. In fact, we do know that Apollo was using advanced technology, not unlike our own, to give impression of his god-like powers to then bronze-era Humans on Earth"

"And you don't think that this… tidbit…. Would undermine our faith?" Sarah's voice was tinny but accusatory.

Laura Roslin held up her hand as soon as Riker began to speak. " Allow me," she said. Her voice was pleasant but Riker suddenly saw the cold shark he had suspected was hiding underneath the façade. He nodded and leaned back in his chair. It was going to be interesting, he thought.

Roslin turned directly to the cameras. "Sarah, it only undermines our faith if we allow it. Perhaps this… non human life form merely called himself Apollo. The truth is that we'll never really know who or what Lt. Gaeta's grandfather was. I've read Starfleet's reports on the encounter. It's disturbing… I don't deny that. But perhaps we're ignoring the power of the gods when we're upset by such things. When you think about it, if the gods had their choice of anyone to send to our colonies, to live among us and learn our ways…. Who do you think they would send? Someone like Commander Riker who would have utterly no connection to us? Or someone like Lt. Gaeta, who grew up with the knowledge that he was the grandchild of someone who thought he was Apollo? Cmdr. Riker, the people of Earth did at one point worship our gods, correct?"

" There was an extensive period of time where they were, yes." He wasn't sure where she was going. " There are still ruins of temples to Athena, for example, on Earth. One of our most cherished historical sites is a temple we call the Parthenon, which was a temple dedicated to Athena." The crowd gasped again.

Roslin waited just a moment. " So… if the gods had a choice, and they certainly did….They chose to send Felix Gaeta to us… someone who at the very least superficially resembles the savior described in the scroll of Apollo. What does that really mean? Is it possible the gods aren't real? Yes. But is it also possible that the gods chose to send the one person that would make their wishes clear?" She paused. " I believe that this revelation strengthens our faith. Of course, the priests and priestesses among us will want to examine the Scroll of Apollo carefully…. But I suspect they will come to the same conclusions I have… That the gods were watching out for us, and chose the one person available that would let us see the truth."

The crew and reporters erupted in applause. Riker rubbed his face pensively. Roslin wasn't expressly stating that Felix Gaeta was a god, so there wasn't any complaint he could make. She had, judging by the response and by Zarek's barely concealed anger, deflected a major political issue. But then again, he had always thought she was clever.

The reporters quickly wrapped up the press conference with platitudes and warm thoughts about the treaty. They were quite good at it and he was certain that Laura Roslin had spun the press conference to her advantage. Out of curiosity, he followed Roslin and Zarek as they stepped out into the hallway and deftly hid as they stopped in the middle of the Galactica's hallways.

" Nicely played," Zarek said. It was almost a hiss.

" Don't frak with me," Roslin hissed back. " I know you planned that."

" I deny everything," Zarek said cheerfully. " Even the truth."

" Do you want a career once we have a planet to settle? Because you're jeopardizing that." Riker peeked around the corner and saw Roslin poke Zarek in the chest. " You do that again and I have no problem revealing everything I know."

" Like what?" Zarek asked.

" I know who signed off on the order to execute one Lt. Felix Gaeta for war crimes. I like you, Tom. We went through New Caprica together and that means more than you might think but don't frak with me on this point. I have no problem setting you up in a powerful position on the new colony but only if you play ball now. You had better tell Porter and her zealots that for the near future, my interpretation of the Scroll of Apollo is acceptable."

" You don't have any proof."

" I have your signed order and the testimony of Col. Saul Tigh, Chief Petty Officer Galen Tyrol and Samuel Anders that you ok'd the execution of Felix Gaeta. Do you think the Federation will allow you to be a member of the government once they know that? Or once they know about the other people who were executed without trial on your orders?"

A pause. " You play this game very well Laura."

" Just back off Tom, and you and the Sagiterrons will reap the rewards."

Riker quickly ducked back into the conference room before either noticed him. I need to speak to the captain, he thought as he cheerfully shook hands. This could get unpleasant.

Chapter Text

The door sensor chimed, and reflexively Dee called, " Come in," before she even considered who it might be. Much to her relief, it was Lee Adama. He stepped into her quarters, looking sharp and handsome in his uniform. He always was nice to look at, she thought tiredly, even during the fat stage. But it didn't surprise her to see him. " Helo already yelled at me. Don't worry… I won't embarrass the Twelve Colonies at our meeting."

" That's been moved up, by the way." Lee sat down in one of the plush chairs. " A patrol ran into Cylons. No one was killed but they're definitely out there. So hopefully this will get things moving a bit. But that's not really why I am here. Are you ok?"

She knew what he meant, and it was nice of him to be concerned. " No, Lee. I'm not ok with the fact that one of my best friends is some sort of alien." Some sort of alien and apparently the grandchild of Apollo, if Helo was telling the truth. She had barely paid attention to the things she had been doing, her mind on the articles Helo had given her to read. The articles he had gotten from Felix. The articles about Felix.

Lee seemed to consider his words carefully. " It bothers you."

" It doesn't bother you?" She didn't believe that, that was not the Lee Adama she knew.

" I've had about twelve hours longer to digest it. And I can admit that I was… horrified at first. And shocked. But…" he looked at her, " The reality is that it explains a lot of things to me, a lot of things that didn't make sense before. Things that bothered me."

" Like what?" Because that was new. They had been married, for close to two years, and she knew Lee. Lee was, at heart, a good man. She had always sensed that Lee was faintly jealous of her friendship with Felix, and had disliked the man. She had never understood why. She had never thought that Lee was suspicious or concerned about Felix. Dee wasn't a fool. The Cylon rumors had always been around, and Felix Gaeta had always at the top of the list, and it wasn't just because he could be a stickler about regulations.

Lee shrugged. " A few things. I never understood why Gaeta was in the military. In our military. We both know he's not the type, and you weren't assigned to a lot of ships before the Galactica. Most commanders I knew were like my father. They weren't impressed with deck officers who weren't pilots. And… for someone who had been a fleet marine, he was pretty shy about talking about it. Or about fighting. I never knew a marine or an ex-marine that didn't jump at the chance to show off how good they are. I tried boxing with Felix a few times, and he's good when he's not faking, and I know now that he was faking most of the time." He took a deep breath. " I always thought he was smart. Not just smart, but really smart. You and I, Dee? We're not stupid at all, but we're not Dr. Baltar smart. Felix is, and there were times that I wondered why he was standing back when he should have been taking credit for the things he did. It makes sense now. He was hiding but trying to help."

He laughed suddenly. " You know…. I wondered, after I read all the reports, if he was actually smarter than Dr. Baltar. Wouldn't that be a kick in the face to Dr. Baltar?"

She laughed as well. " I thought that too, I have to admit."

" That's why…." Lee paused. " Before I knew what I know now… I wondered what he did to get the codes out of the Cylon computer system. Because I thought he was smart but I didn't think anyone had the brains to just take codes from the Cylons. I figured he did… something. I didn't want to know… I didn't want to suggest anything because I thought… I thought Col. Tigh was trying to put a positive spin on whatever Gaeta did." Lee looked down at his feet. " I was glad to be wrong… But for the record, if he had done what I thought, I would have respected him."

It occurred to her what Lee meant…. What so many people must have thought. What she had first thought. And it occurred to her just how difficult the time since New Caprica had really been. Because Lee's attitude was one of the nicer ones. There were a lot of people who hadn't really accepted that Felix had gotten the codes. There were a lot more who had assumed the same as Lee, that Felix had gotten the codes on his back. She had thought that Felix was bright, but she had been surprised that he had somehow pulled codes from the impenetrable Cylon computers. " I… know what you mean."

Lee nodded. After a long moment he added, " I knew he liked you. Dee, we had our problems but I did love you." He stopped, and looked at her intently. " I still love you. But we shouldn't have gotten married. I wasn't ready, and you were… a good friend that I loved, and not a lover, and I was too angry at other people to know the difference. It wasn't fair to you, and we did the right thing by getting divorced. But he liked you, and I worried… Until I realized that he had more concern for you than I did."

" What does that mean?"

"Someone who didn't care about you would have jumped in when… when I was being a total ass about our marriage. Felix didn't…. and he might not be totally human, but he's human enough and he wanted to step in. And instead he was your friend and he let you and I figure it out for ourselves." Lee stood up. " That means he's been a pretty good friend to you, Dee. A better friend than I was, and I hope you let that cloud your judgment more than anything about his ancestry."

That wasn't easy, she realized. Lee was not a man who admitted mistakes easily and he was trying to be a much better friend than she had been. " Lee, it's not that simple."

He stepped over to the door. " I remember a conversation we had on the Pegasus. I was fat and bloated and depressed and you… you were disgusted with me. I could see it in your eyes and on your face. You could have said what you thought, that I was being weak and pathetic… and it would have been true, and I would have deserved it. But instead, you did everything you could to help me. You didn't excuse anything, but you treated me like a friend and you said some pretty hard things… and you said some pretty good things, and I needed to hear both in order to reach down and find myself. You were a friend to me, Dee, a better friend than I deserved. And Felix has been a better friend to you than I have. So I hope you can get past this, since I don't think it was something he could have helped." He glanced down at his watch. " I need to get ready for the meeting. I'll see you there."

" Ok…" Dee hesitated. She knew just how hard it must have been for him to come to talk to her. It was more than he had said in months, and while the divorce was a good thing for both of them, she was suddenly glad that Lee Adama was still her friend. " Thank you Lee… I think I needed you to say that."

" I'm only returning the favor," Lee said after a moment.

Chapter Text

Counselor Troi was right, Jean-Luc Picard thought as he looked at Felix Gaeta fumbling with paper files. If something didn't change, Gaeta was going to find himself flat on his back in sickbay. And not by any order. The man looked strung out from stress and exhaustion. President Roslin certainly wasn't helping, although Picard understood that she had been on the spot. And she had come up with a safe answer, an answer that would keep her people reasonably calm on the topic, at least for a while. He didn't envy her the problems it would cause her, but ultimately the colonists were going to have free access to the same information that everyone in the Federation had. It could have been worse, although he didn't say that out loud, at least not with Gaeta in the room.

She could have taken the religious angle to a much uglier place, and he had worried about that when Riker had first reported that Gaeta's background was circulating. His first assessment about the two leaders of the colonial fleet had been right. Laura Roslin was the more dangerous of the two. Admiral Bill Adama was a strong man, a man Picard didn't want to go up against unless it was necessary, but he was also a fairly easy read as an opponent. Going up against Bill Adama would be like fighting an alpha wolf for it's pack. Someone would die. Laura Roslin on the other hand… Picard still didn't have her figured out. A fine leader, all things considered, but there was more than a touch of genuine fanaticism in her eyes. Which was why she had surprised him with her moderate stance in the press conference. It was the better choice for her people, but he was surprised that a woman who had led her people for years on the strength of vague religious texts and drug and illness induced visions had let the opportunity to claim Felix Gaeta was an incarnation of one of their gods pass. Of course, she might have feared that Gaeta wouldn't play along with her. A living god, one that could demonstrate powers, and fulfill a prophecy… On the one hand, with Gaeta's backing, Roslin would have the colony in the palm of her hand. On the other, not only was Felix Gaeta a little too inhibited by his upbringing and family history to play at being a god, he had a surprisingly amount of steel in his character. A man who spent ten years keeping the secrets Gaeta had would be a handful to control, and Picard thought Laura Roslin had the sense to see that. Felix Gaeta wasn't the type, if there was such a thing, but the colonial religion guaranteed that he would be ruler in the eyes of the people, leaving Roslin at his whim. Which could explain…

Picard shook away the thought. God sent was still awkward, and when the colonials realized that Gaeta had some unusual gifts, the god talk would be start more seriously, but Roslin's comments ensured that most of the people would first think of her explanation. With the advent of new technology and ideas, most of them would fall back into their previous, more rational beliefs. He understood from both Gaeta and the exchange officers that before the Fall and Exodus, religion had not been a huge part of the average citizen's life.

But it did surprise him. In many ways he suspected Laura Roslin was, despite the warm smiles, as cold hearted as a snake when it came to getting her way. And in the short term, disagreeing with the leader of the largest religious faction made her job more difficult. A leader like Laura Roslin most likely had a reason for that moderate response, and he had a feeling there was more to that then just doing what was best for the people.

But it was an internal matter, and only a concern if they agreed to sign the treaty, and even then… It was more a problem for the administrators who would oversee the new colony. His problem was getting them to agree to the treaty. His expert in colonial society and politics looked like death warmed over. " Mr. Gaeta, you look ill."

"I'm fine sir," Gaeta said, hardly even looking up from the papers. " Admiral Adama hasn't held anything back from you. He's given you copies of all of the research that's been done. Even the records from the Pegasus." Gaeta looked at him intently. " That's surprising. Some of it is… less than flattering."

Picard was suddenly glad that he had requested a one on one meeting. He hadn't intended to use the time for discipline, and he considered what he needed to do the mildest of disciplinary actions. But it was still better to have privacy. " Mr. Gaeta, I'm less concerned about the Cylons and more concerned about you right at the moment. I know, from Cmdr. Troi, that you're having difficulty. I also know that in a more normal rescue from a less advanced society, you wouldn't be kept on active duty. You would have already been returned to your home, given leave so you could have some time to reconnect. I'm sure, considering your background, that the colonial press conference was upsetting." It was almost amusing to watch Gaeta fight the urge to clench up, and it only confirmed his suspicions. " This isn't the Galactica, Felix. The Federation isn't at war, and no one is expecting you to work until you drop. Believe me, when the time comes where that is necessary, I won't ask. It will just be assumed. But for now… You don't need to be working this hard. Do you even have any civilian clothes?"

Gaeta seemed to cringe. " On the Galactica, yes sir."

"That's going to change." Fortunately what Picard had in mind wasn't going to dramatically impact the treaty plans. " After this meeting, you're off duty for the next seventy two hours. I don't want any reports, I will cancel any meeting you are supposed to attend or speak at, except counseling sessions, or an attack. You need time off. I don't know if telling you to relax is appropriate, but you need time to recharge. You've been on duty for four, five years straight. So take the next few days off. Sleep. Wear something other than a uniform."

" But…"Gaeta looked stricken. " I'm fine, sir."

" It's an order, Mr. Gaeta. And if I don't see you looking slightly more refreshed, you'll be ordered to sickbay. Now," and he gestured to the most recent reports, " How likely is it that we'll see an attack within the next twenty four hours?"

Gaeta shrugged. " It's a matter of time. Typically the fleet would jump to emergency coordinates over an encounter like this. It's pure luck no one was killed, all things considered." He chuckled suddenly. " It figures it was Starbuck… Captain Thrace is… difficult… but… she's like a like a cat with nine lives."

An interesting response, Picard thought, considering that Thrace seemed to despise Gaeta. " An attack is imminent then. Based on what you know, how difficult of a fight would it be? With and without the Enterprise involved?"

Gaeta frowned. " Cylons rarely attack with even forces. There will be at least two basestars, probably more like four. A battlestar, by design, is supposed to be able to defeat a basestar, even two, on its own, but the Galactica is almost forty six years old, and was designed to fight Cylons of that time. Typically when faced with an attack, the Admiral will send out fighters to hold off the Cylon fighters so that the civilian ships can jump to safety and use the Galactica as a shield. Not being able to jump… the crew is excellent but anything more than one basestar, and the Cylons will just wear them down. Cylon fighters aren't… manned in the traditional sense and the Cylons aren't above suicide runs. They have the specs on the Galactica, they know where life support is housed and they have the numbers to just keep sending ramming attacks." He tapped the paperwork with his hand. " They'd put up a good fight, but the Galactica is outgunned and while Cylon technology is barely more advanced, it is an advantage, and so are their numbers. Their only real disadvantage is that they tend to rely on their numerical superiority and they aren't creative tactically."

" And if the Enterprise participates?" Picard waited.

" It would be a rout," Gaeta said simply. " Their flight technology is slightly more advanced, particularly their drive, but that's about it. Their idea of shielding is very similar to the Galactica, because they've never had to defend against energy pulse weapons. A phaser would slice through a basestar like… a knife through butter. Same with photon torpedoes. Mopping up the light fighters would be a pain, but not impossible. I would be surprised if you had any casualties." He hesitated. " They won't stop an attack because they see a new ship, sir. They don't have any real scanning capabilities, not like the Enterprise, and they'll assume the Enterprise is just another surviving ship that found the fleet."

" If I hail them, what will they do?" Whatever Cylons were, and he planned to talk about that as well, they were sentient, they were new to the Federation, and he couldn't just open fire on them. Not without trying to hail them.

It was more interesting to see Gaeta carefully consider the question. " This is why we're having this meeting first, isn't it, sir? So you can ask questions that… the exchange officers might find upsetting."

Picard nodded. That was one reason and a good one. The other was that he suspected that Gaeta would be more open and forthcoming about his opinions without an audience from the colonial fleet. " What would happen?"

" Most likely they would ignore any hail," Gaeta said after a moment. " The Enterprise wouldn't look threatening to them. They tend not to listen unless they have to. When the colonies were attacked… President Adar offered them an unconditional surrender, and it was ignored. Cylons don't back down unless they have to. Once you fire on them, the survivors will jump away. They'll conference and then they'll come back and offer to parlay."

"And Cylons will always lie?" Picard asked. That point seemed to come up again and again. Almost like a chant or a prayer against evil in some of the reports that had come from the Pegasus's files. If Bill Adama seemed like a tough customer, then Helena Cain looked like a raging psychotic, at least on paper.

" They tend to lie," Gaeta corrected. He smiled suddenly. " I do remember some of my Starfleet training, sir. With any stereotype about a people, there's often a grain of truth, but there's also exceptions. All Klingons aren't violent… if you look hard enough you can find a Vulcan with a sense of humor. There are Cylons who tell the truth… but they generally don't. They don't consider humans in general as worthy. On an individual basis, I think they can like and even love humans and they… They can be interesting. Very human… I remember one time… Six… Caprica Six… " He held out a photo of a tall, statuesque blonde woman from the files. Picard took it and waited.

Finally Gaeta said, " I was working one night… on New Caprica… I was trying to figure out some way to get them to increase the amount of medicine available. A lot of people were sick with flu and pneumonia, and there was this skin condition… I never got it but a lot did and it could get infected and I thought… I knew that some of the Cylons wanted New Caprica to work… They wanted the war to end, they were as sickened by the violence…" It was intriguing to watch the man's body posture, Picard thought. If there was a way for Gaeta to not move a muscle and yet to curl into a ball, he had accomplished it.

" Six left Dr. Baltar's quarters and…. When the door closed… she started to cry. I held her. She cried about how she had failed to convince either side to live in peace… I think she meant it. At the time." Gaeta looked up at him. " She also voted that New Caprica should be destroyed… Cylons call themselves humanity's children, and it's strangely apt."

" How so? Because they were originally used as slave labor and cannon fodder?" Which was hardly pleasant but considering the material on early Cylons, it was an easy mistake. Artificial intelligence was tricky to identify when it was something as unique as Data. From the data sent, the original Cylon centurion models had been little more than simple metal robots. It was a horrible error to not recognize their sentience, but it had only been a few short years ago that Data's legal status had been questioned and questioned hard, and looking at the information, it was clear that the colonials had created something that initially looked and acted like dumb robots. An easy mistake that the colonials had paid for many times over.

" There's that. On a conscious level I am sure that's what they mean but… emotionally Cylons are like human children in a lot of ways." Gaeta seemed to relax just a little. " The seven human models… They could… bicker like children between themselves. Over the most mundane things. But it's their decisions…. I'm not an expert on the first Cylon war, but it was essentially an uprising. A slave revolt if you want. The attack on the colonies though… To listen to them talk about it, it was like showing up Mom and Dad with how mean they could be. And the decisions on New Caprica and after… I don't think they have any idea what they are going to do with themselves once humanity is destroyed. And that scares them, it scares them enough that they make mistakes that they shouldn't if they are artificially intelligent." Gaeta paused again. " I hope you plan to tell Admiral Adama your plans to hail the Cylons first."

" Will he be angry?" Picard rather thought so but shooting first was not Starfleet doctrine.

" Yes, sir. But… He'll be more angry if he finds out three seconds after the Cylons attack." Gaeta tapped the paper worriedly. " The Admiral is a hard man, but he's not a raving butcher. He'll understand if you tell him ahead of time and explain your reasons and your precautions…. But he's not a man that likes surprises."

Picard nodded. He had planned to inform Bill Adama of his plans but it was nice to know that his resident expert agreed with him.

Chapter Text

" You're what?" Adama gripped the wireless headset tightly. He was sure he had heard the Starfleet captain correctly. He just wanted time to prepare a response that wasn't ugly.

" I'm required by our laws to attempt a peaceful contact with any sentient race that enters into Federation territory." There was a pause. " Based on the information you've generously provided, I have no concern about the Enterprise's ability to defend your fleet." Picard spoke with authority. Adama had taken the time to peruse the information that Starfleet and the Federation had allowed. Picard wasn't a coward, that was clear, and he didn't seem to be a fool.

Which made it easier to be blunt. " The fleet isn't the issue. The ship captains have emergency coordinates to jump to, and as soon as an alert sounds, they will begin the jump sequence. Only the Galactica can't jump." The Galactica couldn't jump because of Felix Gaeta. The raw physical damage was being fixed, but the computers continued to puzzle Lt. Alghee with error messages and the solution of the problem was just as elusive as before . Bill Adama wasn't an idiot with computers. He had been a pilot first and knew more than a little about FTL computers, coordinates, and calculations. The more reports he got, the more he was convinced that Gaeta had done something truly unique to the computers.

That made it increasingly difficult to be pleasant to Picard. The man could reassure all he wanted but if the Cylons attacked, the Galactica couldn't jump. There would be at least two basestars, more likely four. The Cylons liked to outnumber and there was no way the Galactica could stand a lengthy attack.

" If the Cylons are unwilling to stand down, they will be dealt with," Picard said. " However, I must make an attempt at diplomacy. The Cylons have made no moves hostile to the Federation so far, and therefore they have to be given the chance to respond. I understand that there's typically a gap of time from when the Cylons appear to when their fighters are in position to attack."

" I intend to launch fighters," Adama said after a moment.

There was a pause. " Of course. All I require is that your fighters do not engage until after I attempt to contact the Cylons. Lt. Cmdr. Gaeta has advised that it's extremely unlikely that the Cylons will respond. I want to assure you, the Enterprise will take it from there."

Adama ended the transmission, taking great care to not overreact. Not only did he have two of Picard's people there to track his reaction, but also he had his own people to think about. People who were no doubt concerned about the upcoming fight, people who were worried and frightened. " Keep our alert level raised. Colonel, you have the CIC. Mr. Worf, you'll join me with briefing the pilots."

Worf nodded and immediately followed him out into the hallway. The burly alien was quiet only for a moment. " You are displeased with Captain Picard."

" I'm not displeased." Adama said carefully. " I'm concerned about the safety of the people on this ship." Picard had never seen a Cylon attack. If he was overstating the capabilities of the Enterprise, it was the crew of the Galactica that would pay the price.

" You should not be concerned, sir." Adama almost smiled. He didn't know much about Klingons, except that they were warlike. Worf felt like, and sounded like, a confident warrior. Once one got past the man's appearance, Lt. Worf of Starfleet reminded Adama of his first CAG back during the first Cylon war. Calm and cool, and not someone to frak with.

" A commander's job is to worry about the possibilities." It was the first thing he had learned from his first CAG. His first CAG on the Galactica, so long ago, and in an odd, sad way, it was pleasant to remember that woman. Long dead now, Maj. Natalie "Stomper" Rumsted had been someone he had respected and admired for her ability to lead.

"Yes, of course." Worf said gravely. "Still, I read your battle reports. I had hoped to see a true battle."

The genuine disappoint in the man's voice gave Adama pause. " What do you mean, Lt. Worf?" He stopped walking, and so did Worf.

" I don't mean to offend," Worf said in his gravely voice, " but if the Enterprise engages with the Cylons, and if the Cylons are at a similar level of technology as this ship… It's not a fight with honor, sir. A battle easily won against an inferior opponent…." Worf seemed disappointed. " There's no glory in a rout. You can not truly win a battle if there's no possibility of losing. A slaughter has no honor."

Which, Adama had to admit, was more reassuring than Picard's comments.

~*~

" The truth," Lee Adama said to the small group, " is that we don't have a lot of knowledge about the Cylons. At least, not these Cylons." He handed out the information packets to the Starfleet officers.

" These are really nicely done," Geordi LaForge said as he looked through the professionally designed packets that had glossy photos and detailed information. He managed to look sheepish. " I didn't think your people had the resources…"

Lee shrugged. " We didn't. These info packets were in storage. The Galactica was being decommissioned the day of the Cylon attack. It was being turned into a history museum and these packets were for adult educators. In fact, these were actually designed by President Roslin… She had been the Secretary of Education." The packets had sat in storage for years. It was ironic that they were finally being used for the purpose they were intended. " We have a few text books as well, and some of the older survivors can provide direct knowledge. This is intended as background material. What we know is that Cylons developed a form of sentience and rose up. There was never an official end to hostilities. The Cylons withdrew… and when they came back, it was with devastating results."

The Starfleet officers, Picard, LaForge, several junior officers, and Troi all looked interested, but Lee ignored them. It was the android, Data, that he was watching. It made his skin crawl. He could see that Data had been intentionally seated as far from the colonial officers as possible. Oddly, it pleased him that Gaeta seemed to be as uncomfortable as he felt.

" The Cylons, in the forty year period between the end of violence and the new attack, changed a great deal." Lee quickly passed out glossy square photos of the known human formed Cylons, the Centurions, the various ships, and the reports that they had made. He had used the Enterprise's technology to make copies. He held up a photo of Six. " We don't know exactly how they gained access to our defense computers but they did and they inserted a viral program that disabled our ships. The Galactica was protected because the latest defense software package hadn't been installed…" As he went on, Lee again was struck by how sharp and intelligent the Starfleet officers were. The questions they had asked pointed in directions he had never considered.

" Isn't this Lt. Agathon?" Troi asked. She was surprised, that was obvious. Helo took the picture, looked, and then handed it back.

" No, that's Lt. Valerii." Helo looked at Lee. " I can tell."

" But that does mean that Lt. Agathon is a Cylon," Picard said. " I'd read the initial briefings. I must admit, Maj. Adama, it surprises me that your people were so willing to take such a risk. Considering what Lt. Valerii did…"

" I understood that there was at least one Cylon prisoner," Lee turned to look at the attractive red haired older woman that had been introduced as Dr. Crusher. She seemed very interested. " Frankly, I'd like to examine a Cylon. Some of their capabilities… They could be augments. Cloned augments."

The various Starfleet officers looked disturbed, although Gaeta didn't seem to share their concern. That struck Lee as odd. Gaeta certainly knew what they were talking about and he wasn't reacting in the same way.

" What are augments?" Lee asked finally. Helo and Dee looked up, and Lee realized that it was an unpleasant topic for the people in Starfleet. Crusher glanced at Picard, almost too quickly for anyone to see and then smiled at him.

" Augments… It's a term for genetically enhanced human beings. An augmented human is faster, smarter, and stronger than a normally evolved human. However while they can be charming, they also can be incredibly violent. "Crusher looked concerned. " According to these reports, Cylons are… very similar to augmented humans."

"Smarter, faster, stronger… "Helo said it in a joking tone, " Isn't that like you, Felix?"

Lee was shocked at how cold the room suddenly grew. Some sort of weird faux pas, he realized and a significant one too. Gaeta made a point of smiling, but it was obvious that he was annoyed. That didn't concern Lee so much as the fact that the other Starfleet officers seemed concerned about what Helo had said. They didn't want to offend their hosts, after all.

" I'm a natural hybrid, Karl. My parents didn't need scientific intervention to have children. " Gaeta hesitated. " Like your daughter, for example. Human beings are able to have children with any number of species. An augment, in comparison, is a human designed in a laboratory, with superhuman abilities." More quietly he added, " It's not polite to suggest that someone is an augment."

"Since the Eugenics War," Picard said, " the genetic engineering of human life has banned except in regards to illness or deformity. Mr. Gaeta is not an augment. Humans with significant genetic enhancement aren't allowed in Starfleet. But… " Picard looked at Lee intently. " How do you tell the difference? These people… " He gestured to the photos of the known Cylons. " If they were hiding their abilities… They look like human beings. Your technology isn't advanced enough to find the differences. "

" They're affected differently by certain forms of radiation." Lee said. " We learned that at Ragnar Anchorage right after the attack. It makes them sick. They also, upon cremation, leave behind synthetic compounds. Unfortunately our ability to pick out Cylons never really went anywhere."

"Synthetic compounds…."Crusher looked intensely curious. " That seems to indicate that they are artificial in some way and yet, according the reports, one of them actually had a baby…"

" My daughter," Helo chimed. He pulled out a photo from his uniform jacket and extended it to Crusher. " Her name is Hera. She's almost three." Helo was nothing if not a doting father, but Lee was annoyed. The hard truth of the matter was that Helo was, in his way, making a point. A point that got tiresome. There was a reason that Helo wasn't as well liked as he should have been, and it was that Helo rarely put his relationship with Sharon in perspective.

"She's darling," Crusher said easily, but Lee was pleased in an odd way that the woman's smile didn't quite reach her eyes. " But it goes to my point. If Cylons are artificial… It's not odd for different species to have children, but it usually requires medical assistance. The colonials don't have the technology, and it appears the Cylons don't either. For Cylons and humans to be interfertile… " She looked at Picard. " It feels like augments."

"That is unlikely," Data said suddenly. He had been very quiet, Lee realized. " The fact that there is synthetic remains indicates that there is more to Cylons than genetic engineering." He looked at the photo of Six that was on the table. " If they are a designed lifeform, it is remarkable how human they appear. They display emotion. Mr. Gaeta, I assume you have theories."

Lee made a point of schooling his features. He didn't like the faint condescending aura that some of the Starfleet officers couldn't hide. He wasn't some ground pounding grunt soldier, that didn't know anything other than how to kill, and yet it was sometimes all too obvious that his education and training was somehow lacking to them. And, it wasn't right, but it still irritated him to see Gaeta the deck officer held in higher regard.

Gaeta, to give him credit, looked uncomfortable. " Most of my theories are in the scientific reports Admiral Adama sent. I had considered the pure synthetic option at first, because I remembered the papers on your… design, Mr. Data, and I knew it was possible to create a human appearing android, but Cylons are too biological. There's no positronic brain, and they seem very emotional, and they make emotionally based decisions more often than not. However, they do seem to communicate at the time of death in some sort of subspace method. They could be telepathic but they refer to it as downloading and we have some evidence that it's involuntary, and also some evidence that they download as a way of sharing information. They don't have to die to do it, which makes them very good spies. They also seem to share personalities although the longer a Cylon goes without downloading, the more distinctive their personalities get. Lt. Agathon, for example, is much different than the other Number Eights I've met, including the original Lt. Valerii."

" I have to agree to that," Helo said suddenly. He managed to look embarrassed. " Lt. Valerii was never interested in me at all…."

" There's that," Gaeta said, as he looked through reports. " There's the fact that the Number Six in the Galactica brig actually uses the name Caprica Six and does seem to be held out as different even by the other Sixes." He held out a report to Data. " I considered the possibility of augments but frankly they aren't violent enough, or smart enough. They do bicker… but in general Cylons are very devoted to the group goals. Individual achievements are very rare and the few individual ones I've met seem very uncomfortable with being regarded as different than what they call their brothers and sisters." He glanced at Helo. " Lt. Agathon is an exception to that, but a rare exception. Based on how they describe what they call "the rebirthing chamber" I think they are some sort of human variant, enhanced with nanite technology. That would explain the strength, the greater dexterity, the better health. It also explains the emotions they have, and the process of downloading. When the old body dies, the new Cylon is placed in a tank that as described, sounds like a perfect environment for nanites to breed. The nanites infest the body with their preexisting knowledge, and the Cylons get a new Six or Three….It even could explain the radiation problems…"

" But…" Dee looked around, " What are nanites?"

Gaeta flipped open another paper report and handed it to her. " In this report I call nanites a theoretical form of microscopic computerized robot that can breed inside a Cylon and allow it's personality to be stored. Nanite is the Federation term, and nanites are actually more in the atomic and molecular size range."

"How do you know so much?" Lee asked angrily. He had rarely had time to attend scientific briefings and he knew the reports had been given to both President Roslin and his father, but the things Gaeta was talking about were all new ideas. And interesting ones at that and it irritated him.

Gaeta rolled his eyes. " Major… did you think I did nothing other than serve coffee to Cylons when I was trapped on New Caprica? That I didn't listen to anything they said? That I was enjoying myself down there? Do you have any idea what it was like having to take their orders and then get spit on? By our people? While you were sitting on your ass eating donuts? Just to have the pleasure of knowing you never bothered to read the frakking reports and now you're pissed with me?"

"That's quite enough, Mr. Gaeta." Picard said softly. Lee was startled by just much power Picard put in such soft words. It certainly wasn't Admiral Adama's method but it certainly worked. At least on him. Gaeta still had a look in his eyes that reminded Lee of too many of the crew that had spent time on New Caprica.

The donut crack hurt. It hurt like hell, because it was true, and because he'd always considered Gaeta a brown nosing weasel that couldn't be trusted in a fight. And knowing the full story… " No, sir…" He looked at Picard, " I was out of line."

Before anyone could speak, an eerie wail sounded through the ship and red lights began to blink. Picard stood up. He seemed suddenly invigorated. " I suspect the Cylons decided to show themselves. We'll adjourn to the bridge."

Chapter Text

The data flowed through his hands and into his mind like a gentle current. Number Five smiled slightly as he transmitted the human fleet's preliminary position to the Raiders. Leoben liked to talk a good game about being in the stream and watching the flow of life but the vast majority of the time, Leoben merely stood back and watched as they went into the data stream. If he bothered to show up at all, and Five realized with irritation that Leoben hadn't even bothered to show up in the control room. Leoben was all smoke and mirrors, obsessed with his little human toy, and leaving everything else up to the others.

To a point, Five didn't mind. After all was said and done, a lot less got done when Leoben took an interest in things. Five preferred it when just his brothers assisted. Today, he had Six and Eight in the stream as well. Boomer, he thought with a sigh, who was barely able to swim in the data, her sisters who were no better, and Six who was at best indifferent.

Three had always been more… interesting in the data stream. Not as cack-handed as Simon, another indifferent swimmer, not a show off like Leoben, or as competitive and domineering as Cavil. Three understood the pleasure of watching the flow, of intertwining with it and the ship.

He missed her.

But that was not a thought to have as they were sending Raiders to destroy the human fleet. The fleet had been troublesome the last few months, making abrupt course changes and seeming to move with more purpose than it had previously. And… there were troubling hints of things. Disturbing things. Odd readings, vague sensor echoes and energy readings that made no sense, that he had wanted to investigate but he had been outvoted. It worried Five.

But so did the battle. He analyzed the human fleet and began to worry. The Galactica was launching its Vipers and Raptors and preparing its weapons. The ships in the fleet were spinning their drives but… The Galactica's FTL drive was stone cold. And… he checked the data, as did his brothers. Five looked up at the others. " There's a new ship. The Galactica's drive isn't prepping, and neither is the new ship.

Boomer, and her sister Eight shrugged. Six pursed her lips in annoyance. " It's just another ship. No radiological alarms."

" If the Galactica doesn't jump, we have the firepower to destroy it." Cavil said easily, his eyes lighting up.

" The humans are clever," Five argued. Far too many times things had looked dire for the humans and they had somehow wiggled out of traps. " And this new ship…" He looked at his brothers and they nodded. " We should wait."

Five wasn't surprised to be outvoted.

~*~

"Status report," Picard snapped as he stepped off the lift. Although he hoped that the situation could be resolved without violence, he assumed it was going to take some applied firepower to bring the Cylons to the table. He quickly stepped down to his customary spot. The young ensign at conn stood at attention.

"Sir, there are four large ships bearing down on the Galactica. Most of the civilian colonial fleet has jumped away." On the view screen, Picard could see the ships doing their amazing flit to escape. It was still impressive. As were the Cylon base stars. He had seen pictures but the size of the things…. If the colonials tended to have the "bigger is better" view, then the Cylons were indeed their children. The base stars were huge. But…

" Tactical analysis?" Picard demanded, noting that his colonial guests were nervously watching from the upper deck. He didn't mind the audience. It would do them some good to see the Enterprise at work.

The ensign at conn gestured to the computer readings. "It's what we expected. No discernable shielding at all, no weapons more advanced than the Galactica's. The Galactica has launched its fighter ships but Admiral Adama has ordered his people into a defensive deployment. They're ready to fight."

Picard could see that. The little crafts were in formation and the Galactica was bristling with readiness. " Open a hailing frequency to all four Cylon ships." It was just seconds before the conn officer nodded.

" This is Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the Federation Starship Enterprise. You have entered the territory of the United Federation of Planets. We welcome you in the spirit of peace and understanding. Be advised that we are aware of the differences between you and the Colonials. We would like to open talks with you to help remedy the situation, but rest assured no unauthorized military activity will be tolerated. We wish to seek a peaceful solution, but will not tolerate any kind of hostile conduct within our territory. If you persist, I will be forced to fire upon you."

He waited. " Any response?"

The communication officer looked up. " No, sir. Cylon fighter craft still inbound."

It was to be expected, he thought with a sigh. " Very well. Fire a warning shot, with forward phasers across their path, Mr. Data." Data nodded. Picard could almost sense the worry coming off the colonials. He didn't relish what was about to happen, but the Cylons were making it necessary.

He could see that it wasn't deterring the Cylons. The small fighters weren't breaking off their approach at all. He hailed the base stars again. " This is the last warning you'll receive." He waited just a moment. " Mr. Data, fire photon torpedoes at will."

Data nodded and fired. Struck amid ships, the closest base star exploded. Two photon torpedoes later only a single ship remained. He was about to hail them one last time when it disappeared in a flash.

"Well," he said cheerfully, as he took in the shocked expressions of the three colonial officers, " let's hope that convinces them that discretion might be called for in the future."

~*~

"This is Galactica Actual." Starbuck almost growled into the microphone at the sound of Adama's voice, but she held herself in check. If the damn Federation captain was exaggerating his ship's capability, they were all going to be very dead, very soon. But she was the acting CAG and it wouldn't help anyone to disagree with the Old Man while they were seconds from enemy contact.

The admiral's voice was firm, if tinny. " Remember your orders. Not a one of you fires a round until after the Enterprise has fired." He had been harsh on the point in the briefing and she knew that he was worried. So she flicked on her own wireless to make the point as well.

" Anyone steps out of line, I'll shoot you myself," she added. There was nervous chuckles in the amassed squadron but it quickly grew silent as the mass of Cylon fighters approached. She wasn't surprised. It was a hell of a lot of ships. Despite herself, she felt a twinge of cold fear.

Four base stars had a lot of Raiders packed between them.

The Enterprise moved slightly and suddenly a beam of red light erupted from her saucer, cutting across the Cylon approach vector and blinding Kara somewhat. Still, as she blinked, the light show hadn't done anything. " Dammit," she muttered, not realizing until that moment just how much she had wanted it to be true. " Get ready," she called out over the wire, knowing something needed to be said.

And then the Enterprise fired three times in rapid succession and Kara Thrace found herself blinded by the odd reddish flashes of explosions as the three base stars exploded one by one. It was stunning, so much so that for a moment all she could do was watch what little remained of them drift apart, carried away by the momentum of the destructive power applied to them. Because it was amazing, and because she knew suddenly that the Federation wasn't blowing smoke about having some serious weapons.

" That's frakking amazing!" Hot Dog shouted on the wireless.

" Keep position," Kara said quickly, maneuvering her fighter so that she had a good view of the remaining raiders. The last base star jumped, and the raiders seemed to almost stop and think, before they too jumped. " Everyone all right?"

" Not one casualty," chimed Sharon from her observation point with the Raptors that had launched.

" We need to get some of those things," Hot Dog chimed. There was a lot of laughter as the squad turned back to the Galactica.

Kara didn't laugh. The treaty offer made it very clear that weapons were not going to be in colonial hands for a minimum of ten years, if not longer. And, she thought darkly, with a weapon like that, they could have blown the bastards away as soon as it was built. It could have defended New Caprica.

Felix Gaeta had a lot of explaining to do.

Chapter Text

It was exhilarating. Dee had hardly been able to keep the grin off her face as the civilian fleet began to return. It was also good to hear the crew in the Enterprise be impressed with the FTL jumps. It eased her mind a little. The Federation had so much, a part of her feared that the Twelve Colonies were being thrown scraps, or that the Federation expressed an interest in the drive merely to ease the pride of the refugees at accepting charity. She could see that the officers manning the bridge were intensely curious about it.

But she wasn't really paying that much attention. Watching three base stars blow up was too exciting. And easy. Aside from a brief interchange with Admiral Adama, who, Dee noticed with some amusement, managed to sound pleased but firm, everyone had pretty much gone back to their normal day, with Picard ordering his people to prepare after action reports as soon as possible. Her only regret was missing the celebration that was no doubt raging through the Galactica.

Still, it had been difficult to even try to pay attention to the tail end of the Cylon briefing, and even Picard's people seemed distracted. So the captain had dismissed them all, making a comment to Gaeta that Dee had found interesting. Picard had quietly but clearly told Felix that he had every intention of making sure that Felix followed his orders concerning the next few days.

Which was odd. Picard hadn't sounded angry or annoyed, but concerned, which seemed to be in character for the man. She wasn't afraid to admit, she was impressed with Captain Jean Luc Picard. It was obvious that he cared as deeply for his people as Bill Adama did about his. He was concerned about Felix, concerned enough that he was reiterating orders.

She found that odd, repeating orders to Gaeta. Despite all the new revelations, especially the ones she wasn't entirely comfortable with, she still felt as though she knew Felix well. He didn't ignore orders, not unless he had a very good reason. And Picard didn't strike her as someone who spoke without thinking. He seemed like the sort of leader who spoke softly but backed up his words swiftly and firmly. So she couldn't help wonder why he was chiding Felix.

And it didn't help that Felix had looked wrung out in the meeting anyway. She felt terrible because she had no doubt that she had hurt his feelings a great deal that morning. Dee hadn't needed the lecture from Helo to know that she had been incredibly rude about… about something that couldn't exactly be helped. Something that, no matter how shocking she found it, didn't really matter. What mattered, what should matter, was that Felix had been her friend for a long time. He had always seemed different and out of place, and now she had a better reason why. A better reason than the ridiculous idea that someone as smart and confident as Felix had taught himself how to read from discarded books while living as an orphan in some backwoods mountain town.

He certainly didn't look part alien, she thought as she passed by a Vulcan in the ship corridor. She'd seen him in the showers enough to not be afraid on that score. And the part god talk? It would have made her laugh except that she was certain that some people in the fleet would think it was true. She didn't have any issues with it. Felix Gaeta was no more part god than she was, in her opinion.

She hesitated at the door to his quarters. I have a reason to be here, she thought forcefully. Even if Felix was mad, and he had every right to be mad, he would need to talk to her if he wanted his bag of things. Helo and Lee had laughed at her for bringing so much with her but she couldn't shake the feeling that Felix deserved to have what little he had accumulated over the years. He didn't need the extra uniforms, and she suspected that he didn't need the few civilian outfits that he had kept either, but they were his, just like the books, knickknacks and odd bits of jewelry and sundry items were, and if nothing else, he deserved to have the things that he had been forced to leave behind.

It was fair, after all. If he was angry, too angry, then she was still doing the right thing by returning his possessions. She didn't think that he would be that mad. With rare exception, Felix wasn't one to hold grudges. She had planned to ask him to come to dinner with her as a way to make up. So she signaled her presence on the key pad.

The door swished open, and there was Felix. She fought the urge to laugh at his appearance and then gave up and began giggling. " My gods, what are you wearing, Felix?"

Because she had seen him in civilian clothes before, and he was usually a sharp, fashionable if somewhat conservative dresser. It was something that had amused her about him, that while he could be very open minded and liberal, complete with referring to Cylons as people even after New Caprica, he was usually quite uptight about what he wore. His uniforms were proper and his civilian clothes were classy, but subdued.

Which made the hideously bright shirt he was wearing all the more hilarious. Not only was it a riot of color, bright reds and blues and greens that seemed to form the shape of multiple oddly shaped birds, it was unbuttoned. Even more hilarious, he had bright, not quite ugly, but weirdly patterned shorts on, and no shoes. Like someone on a beach, although even a Libran wouldn't be caught in public so garishly attired.

" I…" He looked down at his clothes. " I was at the beach. On the Holodeck." He seemed sheepish and embarrassed at first but then she could see his expression close over and grow cooler. " Did you need something, Dualla?"

" Yes," she said brightly. She held out the duffle bag. " I wanted to bring you the things you had left in your rack, because you didn't exactly get time to pack, and… I wanted to apologize." She took a deep breath. " What you said this morning, it was a shock, and something I didn't expect, and I was rude. I'm sorry. I didn't realize until later that it wasn't an easy thing for you to say to us. You've always been a good friend, and you needed me to be a friend and not a jerk… and I am sorry."

After a moment, his expression softened. " It's all right. I understand." He shrugged. " If it helps, I think we've hit on all my shocking secrets. Wait… they told you who my grandfather was?" He seemed amused but also worried.

"Yes. So unless you also have secret magical powers, I think we're ok." She smiled.

So did he, although she could still see worry on his face. " Well, there are powers, but they aren't secret or magical, and I can tell you about them if you want."

" There are powers? You know what, let me in to your quarters, and we'll talk about that and how a box of paint seems to have vomited on your clothes." She pushed past him, into his quarters. " Don't you have work, anyway? I thought they had you doing briefings." Lee had even commented on it, that Gaeta seemed to be working just as much as he did on the Galactica. She took in his quarters. Like hers, it was spacious, but at the same time, it was oddly sterile. She had delighted in the opportunity to let her things scatter about a room without having to worry about someone stealing. In contrast, Felix's little living room looked like no one was using it, and his bed which she could see through the archway, looked like it had been made with military precision. On the small desk, she saw a towel neatly folded, with a paperback book on top. For the pretend beach, she realized.

"I was… put on vacation." He seemed embarrassed. No, Dee thought, he was embarrassed. He took a seat on the small couch and she sat down beside him. " Captain Picard thought I was working too hard."

" He's right." She took his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. " You haven't looked really well since before New Caprica. You deserve some time off." And she understood suddenly, why Picard had made a point of repeating his order. Felix had always felt responsible, that was a part of his personality, and he had always had a tendency to overwork. But she could see that the topic was awkward. " So… you have powers?"

Again he smiled. " Would you like a drink?" Suddenly she heard the vague tinkly sound of the food replicator. She turned and saw that it had activated and in seconds there was a drink waiting. The glass slowly rose off the little boxlike shelf and then seemed to waver and slowly lower back down onto the shelf. She looked at Felix and realized suddenly that he was almost glaring at the food replicator. Until the glass was still, and then he sighed. " I'm rusty. I used to be able to have the drink fly right to your hand."

" You…." Dee didn't know what to say. " You did that?" She felt like an idiot saying it but her mind was whirling with thoughts.

Felix nodded. "In a way it's easier here, because this is the system I grew up with, the languages I'm familiar with. Machines have languages, you know… but I'm out of practice." He laughed. " I'm too used to the Galactica, that's the truth."

Dee considered. "That's the special power? You can do drink orders?" It was more than that, of course. There was a word for it, something she had read, but she couldn't find it, and she didn't think it mattered. Felix stepped over to the food replicator and picked up the glass. He held it out to her. She took it and then sat down on the small, soft sofa. After a moment, he sat down beside her.

" I can also unlock any lock ever made. Trust me, there were tests. Combinations, keylocks, high security maglocks. I'd be a great thief." He shrugged, but she could see by the set of his shoulders that he was tense and worried about her reaction. " I have a form of psychokinesis. It doesn't work on people or animals, but it does work on things. The term scientists use is technopathy. I can… manipulate electricity, and computers, and machines. I can't explain how it works… But it does, and I can get computers to do whatever I want, just by asking inside my head." He looked at her. " That's the big thing. There's some other things… but that's the talent that gets the big mention in all the papers."

It was a lot, more than what she had expected. " So you're not really smart with computers?" That was the only thing she could think to say. " You just think at them?"

He grinned just a little. " No, I am very smart with computers, Dee. Knowing the science makes them easier to use. My mother is more….talented than any of us. She can do the same things I can do, but since she was never really very interested in that aspect of her gifts, she always had to work twice as hard with me. She was much better at keeping my sisters in check, because they were more like her with their gifts to begin with." He looked at her, his expression nervous. " Does that bother you?"

" A little… but… if you could make the glass fly, why can't you do it now?" She had more questions than that but she had a feeling that she needed to take it slow. Felix was trying very hard to come off as nonchalant and unconcerned and yet his whole body posture reminded her of the time right before the incident in Dr. Baltar's cell. He had seemed fine… but she had realized later that he had barely been in control of himself. His little explosion at Lee was a sign, although she thought Lee had deserved it. It wasn't as though Felix had even gotten a thank you from anyone, and Lee had a tendency to behave like a jealous little boy when he felt put out. Still… it seemed as though Felix wanted to talk, and she was his friend, and if it was a little creepy, it wasn't as though she didn't owe him a favor or two.

He held the glass out to her. " Because it's not my primary talent and it takes a lot of practice. It's like being an athlete. You have to really work to keep in top shape, and since it's not something people in the colonies can do, I would have gotten into a lot of trouble if I got caught. It was worse after the Cylon invasion…." He shuddered. "The jump from Ragnar Anchorage… I was afraid because even though I knew the Galactica… I didn't think I could control it through the jump." His face took on a far away look. Dee kept quiet. It had been a long time since he had been able talk freely.

" What do you mean?" she said finally, sensing he wanted to be encouraged.

He sighed. " I don't know that I can explain. Computers and ships aren't like people… They're not intelligent… but they do have personalities. Like dogs. The Enterprise is like one of those really smart dogs that can do tricks and be trusted to lead blind people around, like in the old days. And the Galactica… the Galactica is like an old, dumb dog that never really had that many tricks to begin with but still wants to hear you say "good girl" and pat her on the head, and rub her belly. It took forever to learn how she works…. You have no idea how badly the ship didn't want to jump. Not beyond the redline." He looked at her, his eyes seeming to stare right through her. Then he seemed to realize that he was talking to someone." It doesn't make sense, I know…. Anyway… I was put on vacation because everyone thinks I am stressed out, and I think I am but it's hard to stop thinking about everything. Like the fleet, or what knowing about Pollux lifeforms could mean to the religion, or all the prime directive violations…" She could feel him shaking. " And they're watching, and monitoring me, so I can't just keep working. So I went to the Holodeck, even though it doesn't work that well for me, and tried to pretend I was relaxing. And this is how people dress at the beach."

A lot of information, and a lot of things she wanted to ask questions about but those things could wait. " You know what I think, Felix?" Dee said as she moved closer, taking his hand and pulling him closer. " I think that you have been alone so long, and hiding for so long, it must be harder than I can imagine for you. Especially with everything happening so quickly. I think that you and I should just have a quiet dinner here, and we can talk about things that maybe don't have anything to do with Cylons or ships." It occurred to her, seeing his eyes suddenly sparkle with interest, what else he had been hiding. Lee had a tendency to be jealous, but he hadn't been wrong. She had always suspected that Felix was attracted to her, and circumstances had always seemed to work against it. He was an officer and she wasn't, and he was stickler enough to let that stop him, and then there had been Billy, who Felix had liked, and then Lee. And she had never really considered him because he had been an officer and her friend, and then Billy had come, and then Lee…

And suddenly she could see exactly why Lee had made such a point of talking to her. They were divorced, but neither of them had really acted on it, and Lee, in his odd noble way, had given his blessing to what he assumed was her next man. Looking at Felix, and remembering everything that they had shared, it was impossible to deny. She did want Felix. She leaned in and kissed him, a long lingering kiss that he returned, almost desperately, and for a moment, she let herself relax in his arms.

But then he pushed away, gently but quickly. " Dee, I'm sorry… I just… I want this… but what about Lee?"

She chuckled as she pulled him back into an embrace. " We're divorced, remember?" she whispered softly. " So why don't you and I have a nice evening here, and after you take off this tacky shirt, maybe we can find something to do?"

" You don't like the shirt? I like toucans and palm trees." He grinned. " This is very Earth fashionable."

"And it would be very Caprican fashionable for you to take it off, so that I can show you some interesting Sagiterron things." She pulled him up off the couch. " Now let's go mess up your bed, Felix." Maybe it wouldn't go anywhere, but she could at least help him relax.

Chapter Text

It was finally getting quiet. Bill Adama looked around the CIC with tired eyes. There was still enough people working to maintain a skeleton crew and he could see that they had taken his warnings to heart. It was exciting and people had every right to be happy, but the ship still needed a crew. It was just different, seeing people smiling as they worked. He had let as many as he could go, his only warning that everyone had to be relieved on time and the relief crews needed to at least try to be sober. So far, it seemed to be working.

" Sir, Captain Picard is on the wireless." The young ensign handed him the handset.

Adama took it. No doubt the Starfleet captain wanted to make sure that everything was fine. Fortunately it was. No casualties, and he could admit, if just to himself, that it felt as though he had just crossed the finish line to a never ending marathon. The fleet was relieved. He was relieved. He hadn't realized just how worried he had been until the base stars had been destroyed. The Cylons would come back, of course, that was their nature, but the fleet was safe. No more redoing the work schedule to cover battle deaths, no more needing to put teenagers in Vipers. They were safe. He wasn't even that worried about the jump engines any more, although he didn't intend to back down on the point. It was just good to know that the Starfleet ship could easily protect them, regardless.

It felt like he had dropped a heavy rucksack off his back. It felt good. " This is Admiral Adama."

" Good evening, Admiral." Picard's voice was pleasant and static free, and Bill assumed they were boosting the wireless signal. The Starfleet officer sounded pleased but also concerned. " I wanted to let you know that we're not showing any signs of the Cylons returning. Now that we know what to look for, our scanners are calibrated for their signature."

"That's very nice." Riker had said something similar. Adama wasn't ready to drop flying the CAP but it was reassuring. He had already discussed it with Picard so he assumed the man had something else on his mind.

" I wanted to let you know," Picard said casually, " That the U.S.S Tom Dooley will be joining us in eight hours. The Tom Dooley is a Starfleet medical research vessel. It was doing research nearby and the captain volunteered her ship to come assist. They have plenty of doctors and medical personnel, and more emergency supplies. I know that will be a significant help."

" We do appreciate all of the assistance," Adama said diplomatically. He gave Picard some credit, the man didn't rub his face in the fact that the colonial fleet was subsisting on charity. He had known petty minded officers that would have delighted in making him crawl. Helena Cain had been that way and Picard was not, so he was more willing to be courteous to the man. And with Helena Cain, he had been willing to risk a shoot out, but after the recent demonstration by the Enterprise, he knew Picard and Starfleet weren't cowed in the slightest by the Galactica. Plus, it was expected that other ships would arrive soon. Roslin would feel rushed to make a decision, as would the other Quorum members but to him, it made little difference. After the display the Enterprise had put on, he was certain that the big question would be which planet to choose and how much help the Federation would give them. That they were going to join the Federation seemed a foregone conclusion.

" I am quite pleased with your officers," Picard added. " I know the exchange officially ends tomorrow, but I would greatly appreciate it if I could have your officers on hand for the arrival of the diplomats. Frankly it would be a convenience to have them on hand for questions."

A request, Adama considered, that didn't sound like a thinly veiled order. He could probably say no, and Picard would shrug it off. He wanted to say no, it was becoming obvious that his staff had depended on a few key people to get things done, but he also intended to brace Picard to send Gaeta back soon, and being conciliatory on something easy would help. And Lee had been complimentary of Picard in their communications. Lee had also used the code phrases that indicated all was fine, a protocol Adama didn't like using but it had eased his mind. It was hard, trying to not be paranoid and to not expect bad things to occur. He suspected that he would never really lose that instinct, not after New Caprica. " I don't have a problem with it."

"Of course, I will extend the same courtesy to you and your crew. I already checked with Cmdr. Riker, and he assured me that everyone was greatly enjoying their time, and that the Galactica crew was making them welcome."

That was good to hear, although Bill was quite certain that Picard was lying. Riker tended to smile and nod, but it was obvious that the man wasn't enchanted with any number of things on the Galactica. It was an understandable lie, a polite lie, and one that he would have made as well, although he didn't have to. Picard was nicely granting him the piece of mind of hostages as well. " That would be fine. Anything else?"

"Yes, actually. The captain of the Tom Dooley is escorting the ambassador from Betazed. I have no doubt that the Ambassador will ask to tour the Galactica." Picard hesitated on the line. " I thought you'd appreciate knowing in advance. The Ambassador can be a handful. She's quite… eccentric. And Captain Gaeta has already asked to meet you."

"Captain Gaeta?" Adama knew the Starfleet rank structure. Felix Gaeta was a lieutenant commander, and the rank was somewhat honorary, considering the situation. Something like a major, about where Gaeta, and Kelly and Agathon should have been. A different member of the family then. " A relative?"

"Cmdr. Gaeta's oldest sister, Sophia Gaeta. A top flight medical researcher, and the Tom Dooley's captain." Picard waited a moment.

" I don't have a problem with it," Adama said after a moment. " I hope you warn the Ambassador that conditions here may not be up to her regular standards." An ambassador, and someone from Felix Gaeta's immediate family. Adama sighed. It was just the start of the political games. So he would do a walk about, and make sure the parties weren't too excessive, and then try to get some sleep. And I'll need to warn Laura, he thought. She'll want to be on hand as well. He sighed. He was tired, that was the truth.

~*~

He wasn't trying to hide. Not exactly. He just knew better than to accept one more drink from a happy colonial. Reg knew he was drunk. He had accepted far too many glasses of ambrosia already. His limit was reached and if he had any more, he was going to be sick. And plenty of people had already reached their limits, and he didn't want any part of that either. He just wanted to go someplace quiet.

The corridors were getting quieter and when he turned the corner, he suddenly understood why. Kara had shown the memorial to him days earlier but there had not been time to stop and look. Or possibly she hadn't wanted to linger. It was a somber place.

But also quiet, and he wasn't likely to be offered a drink. And… it reminded him of home. The colonials weren't so different. The pictures, of smiling people, the elderly, children, all looking fresh faced and happy. All dead. Earth had similar customs. His last trip back to Earth, after Wolf 359, the dormitory he had lived in had been papered with pictures. Pictures of the dead, of the many, many members of Starfleet that he had known. Pictures of dead people that he had known. Maybe he wasn't a social person, but he had known people and most of them were dead, and it wasn't a good feeling.

The pictures changed subtly as he walked down the long hallway. Planetary scenes slowly turned to people in ships, looking worn and tired. Then a new planet, where the people looked happier but still…. He had to assume that the happy, smiling red haired man who looked like one of his classmates and the pretty blonde woman he was holding were both dead. He almost reached out to touch it, and then stopped himself. He didn't want to be disrespectful.

"That's Duck." He jumped and turned around at the sound of Kara Thrace's voice. He hadn't heard anyone approach and yet there she was, a bottle in one hand and a small book in the other. She looked…. Not so much angry as sad. She walked over and tapped the photo. " He was one of the few here that survived the initial attack. The woman, Nora? His wife… They met after. She was from the Pegasus. When New Caprica happened, we were all on the ground, just living our lives. They were married… I heard they were trying to have a baby… despite everything." She glared at him. " And then a Cylon killed her in a temple. And Duck… put on a vest with about twenty pounds of explosive in it and blew himself up. For nothing, as it turned out. The bastard he was trying to kill is still in our brig. And you know what, Reg?"

Reg shook his head, feeling numb. It was obvious to him that Kara was drunk, and angry.

She took a step forward. " Your pal Felix could have prevented it. He knew that Earth was real. And instead, he kept his mouth shut. Do you know how many people died on New Caprica, Reg?"

"Over six thousand, but…" Reg straightened up. " You're not being fair."

Kara's eyes narrowed. " What the hell do you mean, I'm not being fair?"

It was menacing, her look, but Reg didn't back down. " You're not being fair. Everyone here says that they wouldn't have believed Felix if he had told the truth. You never had the things you'd need to create our technology. It takes resources to build the things we have, and you act like Felix could have just drawn a blue print and everyone would have just patted him on the back and agree to do what he said. And you know the truth, that you all would have laughed at him, and you would have thought he was crazy, and since you never had the things you needed, he could never have proved it."

Kara grabbed him by the shirt. Reg could smell the alcohol on her breath. " You don't know what I would have done."

" The only thing he could do was point you in the direction," Reg said softly. " I don't know how he did it, unless he had thousands of star positions memorized, but he did it, and he did it intentionally, and he might be in a lot of trouble because it's a Prime Directive violation. He did the only thing he could to bring you to safety, and he could go to prison for it." Reg wasn't so sure about that, in truth. Felix had been convinced of it, Reg had seen that, but the talk among the various crew indicated that Felix was probably going to get off lightly. But… Kara didn't know that, and while he had started to like Kara, Felix Gaeta had been his friend for a lot longer, and he hadn't missed how upset Felix had been. Felix was suicidal, Reg had made light of the wrist monitor but he knew Deanna Troi didn't overreact to minor things.

And it wasn't for sure that Felix would get off lightly. He might have to visit his friend in prison. He was pretty certain that prison on Earth was a lot nicer than living on the Galactica, but Kara didn't need to know that either. " He's in a lot of trouble. You're going to a nice terraformed planet and people in the Federation are going to be helping you, and Felix is going to prison, and maybe… Maybe you should give him a break."

Kara let go of him. " He knew and he let these people die. Prison is too good for him." She stomped off, swaying and Reg wondered if she would even remember what he said.

Chapter Text

The bed was warm and luxuriantly soft. Dee knew that it probably wasn't any softer or nicer than her bed. It was that she was sharing it with someone, someone who was still curled around her. She could feel Felix's warm breath against her hair, and his skin next to hers. It had been delightful. Felix wasn't the most active man when it came to dating, but she knew he hadn't been celibate. Still, he had surprised her. She had thought he looked too exhausted to be up for much but his stamina impressed her. They had made love, talked over dinner about his family and her family, and then they had gone back to the bedroom, for more, if somewhat slower, sensual sex. They had fallen asleep in each others arms.

He was sleeping, sleeping deeply and she had a suspicion that it had been a long time since Felix had gotten a good night's rest. The problem was that while it felt wonderful to lounge in bed for a while, basking in the warm afterglow of fantastic sex, she was wide awake. And thanks to several nights on the Enterprise, she was well rested. It was too early to get up, but she was awake and she herself well enough to know that she wasn't going to be able to lie there. Plus, while Felix could sleep all day if he wanted, but she knew she still had exchange officer things to do. She carefully disentangled herself from him and slid out of the bed. He needed the sleep, she could see it even as he slept. She had gotten him to talk a little bit about what was worrying him, but she suspected she had only gotten the bare bones of it. He thought he was going to be court-martialed, over violating their laws, and underneath that, he was upset about so many things. Some things that couldn't be helped, like the issue of lying to everyone. That was over and done and there was no way to take it back, and she had a feeling that he was beating himself up over it more than most in the fleet would have even thought.

It was easy to get ready quietly though, in spacious quarters. She showered, taking her time since it was so early, and enjoyed it. Sonic showers sounded weird, but she had already grown to like them. Relaxing, less messy, and she felt cleaner than she had in years.

She had dressed, and gotten herself a cup of coffee, intending to sit down and check the agenda for the day when the door chimed that someone wanted to enter. It made her hesitate. She was in Felix's quarters which meant that whoever was there most likely was looking for Felix. It was also very early in the ship morning, and she knew Felix was on leave. So whoever it was, she had to assume it was important. And why are you so embarrassed, she asked herself as she went to the door. It wasn't as though they weren't adults.

Dee opened the door, and found herself staring at two women that were eerily familiar. Relatives of Felix's, of that she had no doubt. One was in a Starfleet uniform, the red uniform Dee now knew was the sign of a command officer, and the insignia of a captain. The woman was very tall, with curly dark hair and had the same dark olive skin tone that Felix had. It was obvious that she was related, she was a taller, much more feminine version of Felix. The other woman was in civilian clothes, and she was fair with blond hair and while tall for a woman, Dee suspected that Felix was just a little taller than her. She was lovely as well. It was when the blond woman rolled her eyes and smirked that Dee could see the resemblance to Felix.

" You," the blond woman said, " are not Felix." She turned to the other woman. "It figures, we haven't seen him in ten damn years, and now Starfleet gives us the wrong room."

"Perhaps…" the taller woman said darkly, " Or maybe this is one of Felix's friends? And maybe you could learn some manners?" She looked at Dee, her expression softening. "Hello, I'm Captain Sophia Gaeta and this is my sister Serena Gaeta McHenry. We were told that these were Felix's assigned quarters."

" I'm Anastasia Dualla, and you're right, this is Felix's room." As the two women both smiled knowingly, Dee felt herself blushing. At the same time, she knew exactly what the two women wanted and understood it completely. They wanted to push her aside, run into the bedroom and hug Felix until they were certain that the good news visited on their family was really true. And she didn't want to stand in the way except that… " He's still sleeping," she said softly, hoping they would get the subtle hint. " Why don't you come in," she added awkwardly.

Serena started to push past her, but Sophia pulled her back. " Don't be rude." The two women eyed one another for a long moment. Then Sophia turned her attention back to Dee. " You are his friend, aren't you?" She looked at Dee intently. " And it's six in the morning Enterprise time. So maybe we should consider what," she gestured to Dee's collar rank, " Lt. Dualla is saying. I saw the medical reports and the mission reports. Maybe surprising him isn't a good idea."

"Oh screw it," Serena said as she shook off Sophia's hand. " It's weird and psychological and awkward, and you know what? You and Felix were always alike. You think too much and you worry too much. I'm waking him up!" She brushed past Dee and into the quarters. Dee gave up and stepped away from door. Sophia did reminder her of Felix, not only in looks but in how tense she seemed.

Already Dee could hear muffled cries of surprise in the bedroom but she tried not to look in the bedroom and instead took a seat on the sofa, while Sophia took a seat in the small chair. Sophia looked worried, Dee noticed, but also happy. " He's ok," Dee said after a moment, hoping to ease the woman's fears. " I don't think any of us have had a good night's sleep in a while and he's been looking really tired…"

Now she could hear hysterical giggling and shouts of "Tickle monster!" from Serena. It made her smile and Sophia smiled as well.

" They grew up together," Sophia said softly, after a moment. " They're just three years apart. Honestly, I think she would have grabbed a phaser and threatened to shoot. I can't say I'm much better. I volunteered my ship as soon as I heard."

" I can imagine," Dee said. She could, too. There was a part of her that still indulged in the fantasy, late at night, that somehow things would just be different and she would would leave the Galactica and just… go home and be with her family. Underneath the cool exterior, she suspected that Sophia had similar thoughts over the years. " Are you much older than Felix?" The woman certainly didn't look it, but Dee knew some of Felix's sisters were much older. He had mentioned it the night before. Despite the awkwardness of the situation, Dee felt warm inside. They had talked for a while the night before, about things that she knew Felix had never talked about before.

Sophia smiled tightly. " I was thirty when Felix was born."

Which meant the attractive looking woman who didn't look more than thirty at best had to be at least sixty. And Serena, who was lovely and looked younger than Felix had to be at least thirty six. Dee tried not to show her surprise but it was hard.

Serena stepped out of the bedroom, her eyes red from crying but her expression full of mirth. She was holding a sheet from the bed, chuckling. " Apparently," she said with amusement, " Little brother likes to sleep in the nude now." 

Chapter Text

Lee brushed off his uniform as he took a seat at the mostly empty bar. It was still early, and he had agreed with Dee and Helo to meet them for breakfast at Ten-Forward. He knew that they were going to like the news he had to share. Staying a few days more on the Enterprise was not a hardship, not in his opinion. Helo might be annoyed but only because he was worried about Sharon and Hera, and Lee suspected that worry would soon be put to rest. When Picard had given him the news that they were staying, early that morning, he had hinted that he was interested in having his medical officer examine a Cylon with their equipment. That would necessitate bringing a Cylon on board the Enterprise and Lee was absolutely certain it would be Sharon. His father wouldn't allow the Six in the brig to be taken for an exam. It would be too dangerous, and while Admiral Adama wouldn't say it, he wouldn't trust Starfleet to take the proper precautions. Lee wasn't certain that he disagreed either. The people he had met were bright, but Six was clever at turning on the charm and she was also much more physically deadly than her appearance suggested. So it would be Sharon and she would insist on bringing Hera.

Which would calm Helo down. Eventually he suspected that Helo would have to make a choice about his family. Lee suspected that things would be easier for Helo and Sharon on a Federation world. Of course, the new colony would be a Federation world, but Sharon would always stick out as a Cylon.

That was a problem for Helo though. A minor problem for the fleet, and Lee wasn't too worried either way. There were bigger and better things to think about. He had never planned to make the military his life and with the colonial people soon to settle down, there had to be a place for him. Something to do with his life that didn't involve shooting the enemy. Building something up, that appealed to him. I could build a bar, he thought as he put his hands on the smooth counter. A nice, classy watering hole, with maybe a little bit of a pilot theme but upscale. He smiled to himself. I could put it in the new capitol and run the bar that all the politicians drink at. All wood paneling and stained glass windows…

" Hey handsome stranger, buy a girl a drink?" Lee looked up, and found an attractive woman beside him. She was tall and blond, with long hair that was braided down her back. She was lovely, with startling blue eyes and something about her seemed familiar but he couldn't quite figure out what it was. She was in civilian clothes, an attractive shirt and slacks, and looked relaxed as she took a seat beside him.

"It's a little early, isn't it?" he said easily.

" I'm celebrating." She eyed him. " You're obviously one of these Twelve Colonists."

It almost felt like she was daring him to speak. " I think the uniform is a pretty big clue." He held out his hand. " I'm Major Lee Adama."

She shook it firmly. " I'm Serena McHenry." Her eyes narrowed, and she looked at him shrewdly. " How would you feel about being interviewed by a serious journalist?"

" It would depend on your credentials," Lee said after a moment. He sensed that not only was the pretty woman interested in a story, she was interested in him. " Are you a civilian? I haven't met any civilians yet." Not officially anyway. There were any number of people and children in civilian clothing on the Enterprise but with the exception of Guinan the bartender, he hadn't been introduced to any of them.

Serena smiled. " Let me be the first. Although to be fair, I was a Starfleet officer."

"I won't hold that against you," Lee said easily. " To be honest, finding Starfleet had been very good for my people." That was unconditionally true.

"And yet my heart breaks to hear you say that," Serena said. Lee realized that her comment was heartfelt. She looked at him intently. " I have a doctorate degree in anthropology. I study humanity." She hesitated. " Your people have a culture that hasn't been tainted by Earth for several thousand years at least. You've had this tragedy that has destroyed so much of your history and culture, and now you're here. What do you think will happen?"

" You're underestimating how people can get attached to what they have left," Lee said after a moment. He was warming up to her. Not only was she a lovely woman, but he could see that she was lightning sharp and not snobby about it as well. " One of President Roslin's major concerns about the treaty is the fear of having our culture overwhelmed."

" She's right to be worried. And you should talk to me." Serena held out her hand formerly. " You want to know my credentials? I'm with Terra Geographic. We are committed to showing how people live. In one form or another, the Geographic has been in operation for over 500 hundred years. I was doing a story on ship culture, cashing in on a few favors to do a story on how each ship in the fleet has a unique way of life depending on the mission… and then the Enterprise sends word, and suddenly I'm looking at an incredible story. The human survivors of a war against robots who just happen to mirror Earth's Golden Age Achaean culture…. That's pretty amazing. And interesting. And it's delicate and until the treaty talks really start, so I doubt I'll get to meet any colonials but I want the story." She smiled conspiratorially. " This means nothing to you, I know, but this story will warrant a special edition paper magazine complete with the traditional yellow border. That's big."

" I'm not really in a position to answer," Lee said carefully. " I can't comment on any aspect of the treaty."

" Who cares about the treaty?" Serena said with a laugh. " I want to know what the people of the Twelve Colonies are like. What it's like in your fleet. I want stories and not just 'oh wow we found Earth and we're impressed' stories. I want pictures. I want to see the ships in your fleet and not just the nice ships. We're not about politics at the Geographic, but we're also not about fluff pieces."

He laughed. " I still don't know how I can help you."

She batted him on the shoulder. " Oh look at you. You're ruggedly handsome and photogenic. If I could get you posing with a child, looking all manly… Maybe holding a crying child with dirty streaks on her face… Trust me, you'd be the talk of the networks." She gestured to the bartender. " Two mimosas please."

" I certainly don't mind talking to you," Lee said, " But it really is a little early for alcohol." He wasn't Saul Tigh after all. " I have meetings and things."

She handed him a long glass of orange liquid that was faintly effervescent. " First, this is a mimosa. That's champagne and orange juice, which means it has almost no alcohol in it. Second, this is a Starfleet ship. If it comes out of a replicator, then the drink is made with synthehol. That means it gives you the buzz, but if you think about it, it's pretty easy to shake off the feeling. So trust me, you can risk it." She sipped her drink and winked at him, knowingly.

He sipped the drink. It was like the orange juice he had grown up with the bubbly carbonation of a soft drink, and the faint taste of alcohol. It was a little sweet but he understood the concept. His mother had liked such drinks. " So what are you celebrating?"

The woman smiled. " Better news than I thought I would ever get. You should have breakfast with me. I'm waiting for my brother and sister and his little girlfriend. Or rather, I am waiting for him to figure out how to put some pants on and get up here before my sister has to get back to work."

That was a familiar sentiment. He could remember making such comments about Zak when he was on leave and Zak was still in school. " So you're from that other ship?" He pointed at the new ship that was floating lazily next to the Enterprise. " The Tom Dooley?"

She nodded. " It was a lucky happenstance." She glanced down at his hand and pointed to his ring. " Are you married, Maj. Adama?" Serena sounded just a little disappointed.

" No… I…" He pulled the ring off. " I'm recently divorced and I hadn't gotten around to taking it off."

"So that is a wedding ring," Serena said. " I had wondered. We have similar customs. Interesting."

He looked at her hands. There were no rings. " So you aren't married?"

She shrugged, but her expression darkened a little. " I am a widow, actually. My husband was a Starfleet officer, and… They probably haven't really spelled it out to you people, but there's worse things than your Cylons here in the Alpha Quadrant."

" Is that why you left Starfleet?" It wasn't a bad guess, but it didn't feel right. She didn't seem like the sort to get fearful, in fact she reminded him of how Kara had been, when he had first met her. Funny, and fearless, perhaps more intellectual…

She shook her head. " I woke up one day and realized that I had a career in Starfleet mostly because that's what people in my family did. I didn't need to be in Starfleet to be successful. I wasn't interested in command, and I didn't want my kids to only see me on leave. Not every ship lets you take the family with you, you know. So I resigned my commission, and my husband was going to do the same when he was killed in action a few years ago."

"I'm sorry," Lee said after a moment. " You have children?"

" Three," she said, her face regaining the playful expression he had first seen. " Two boys, and a girl. What about you? You look virile." She winked. " Virile and handsome… If all the colonials look like you, then the men of Earth need to worry."

He chuckled. Most of the women on the Enterprise were pleasant but not as forward as the women in the colonies. " No kids for me. My ex-wife and I had decided to wait, and that was probably for the best."

" She let you get away?" Serena asked, her voice conspiratorial.

Lee sipped the mimosa. It was just flirting, and unlikely that anyone would know what he said, but it was bad form to badmouth Dee. " No, it's more like we got married for some bad reasons. I was angry at someone, and somehow getting married seemed like the best weapon I had. And that's no way to start a marriage. So we got divorced, and fortunately we're still friends." He looked over her shoulder as the doors to Ten Forward opened. Dualla entered, followed by Felix Gaeta, who was in civilian clothes. Felix was followed by a tall, attractive woman that was obviously his sister. Lee had known about that, that the captain of the Tom Dooley was Felix's sister. It was amusing to know that one of the fleet jokes was accurate. Gaeta would have been a very pretty girl.

" That's my ex right there." He gestured to Dee, who waved and smiled He pointed at Felix. " You should interview that guy for your story. He's the one with the story. He's the man from the Alpha Quadrant who was with us."

Serena turned and her expression lit up with amusement. " Oh he'd like that…And of course that's your wife." She looked at him, and smiled wickedly. " That guy with the story? That's my brother, and don't worry, I will get his story. But now you absolutely have to join us for breakfast. It'll be fun. Trust me, I can tell already that Felix has not lost his ability to be embarrassed."

It was hard to refuse, especially since he got the impression that Serena had more in mind than just teasing her brother, Felix Gaeta.

Chapter Text

Six took the proffered towel from Five. " What do you mean, I'm one of the lucky ones?" she asked as she wiped the regeneration fluid off her body. She ached all over, made worse by the fact that it had been a long time since she had been reborn. And somehow, it didn't feel right. She felt muddled and drained, and her last memories were disjointed. Unclear.

That was unusual. She looked at Five intently. " I don't know what happened. Why don't I know what happened?"

He handed her some clothes. " You are lucky that you even came out of the tank with awareness. Very few from the destroyed basestars have."

Slowly his words seemed to sink into her numbed thoughts. " Deaths….? But the resurrection ship… we have it here…" Death wasn't to be feared, not according to God. They were the chosen ones. They would always be brought back as long as they were close enough to the resurrection ship to catch the download. She knew that instinctively, it was a part of every Cylon's being, the trust that they would live regardless. She had been brought back when the resurrection ship was much farther away, and it couldn't have been destroyed. They hadn't… they hadn't even jumped it to the battle scene. They had been more careful since the holocaust of death that occurred when the humans had destroyed the last resurrection ship.

She wouldn't be alive if the ship had been destroyed.

Five looked at her, his expression grim. " The download… the weapon the humans used. The new weapon… do you remember?"

Slowly it did come to her, but it was like gathering a memory from a field of static, faint and echoing. " The Galactica didn't jump… we were attacking and there was a new ship…" After a moment she shook her head. " There's bits and pieces but nothing I can make cohesive… What happened?" Something terrible, that was becoming clear. The rebirthing chamber of the basestar was busy but she realized with shock that many of the tanks were dark, holding bodies of her brothers and sisters.

" The new ship had a weapon," Five said gently as he led her into the hallway. "Three of the basestars were destroyed in a matter of seconds. This ship was the only one to survive."

" And?" It was a defeat and a stinging one because they were expending a massive amount of resources chasing the human fleet already. But a defeat didn't explain the darkened tanks, or the odd, weak feeling she felt when she searched her memory.

Five sighed. " The weapon disrupted the download. I don't know how… we're working on that but it's entirely out of our experience. It did something… the energy from it seems to have scrambled memories and patterns…. We didn't know it until the first ones began waking up. A few were like you… unsteady and not remembering what they should. But most of them woke up screaming, or just staring blankly… They had to be put down." He hesitated, his face stricken. " We all lost brothers and sisters. No one was immune. This weapon is dangerous."

" What are we planning?" Six asked. Something had to be planned.

He shrugged. " We're having a meeting…. This new ship is dangerous and it wasn't in the fleet before. We can't risk another attack."

Six wondered. Five was cautious, as if by design, but he wasn't a coward despite his mousy appearance. Five was the voice of reason, the one who… She stopped in her tracks, the feeling that something was at the edge of her memory, tickling it but refusing to form. Finally she said, " It was you…. You said we should wait… I can't remember what else."

Five looked stricken. " We did protest… Come on, we need to attend." He pulled her through the corridors until they reached the control center. The others were already there. Everyone looked pale and horrified, even Cavil had lost his usual smug expression, and Leoben was mouthing the words to a prayer. The prayer for the ones who truly died, she realized. She shuddered. Already she was feeling better, but every time she tried to access the last memories of her previous life, a blur of static seemed to overwhelm her mind. She could see others having the same difficulty.

" It's fortunate," Cavil intoned as he put his hands into the flowing stream of data, " that we have recordings. And that this basestar survived." He brought up the last few moments of the battle for everyone to watch. Six felt a wave of déjà vu, listening and watching events that she knew she had participated in, but couldn't remember. The death toll from the weapon was staggering. Cavil was relying on everyone's shock, she realized, to get his way. She listened intently to his words.

" We shouldn't retreat," Cavil said. " They offered to parlay. I think we should offer to talk and find out as much as we can so that we can attack. This new ship is obviously from Earth and we need to learn as much as we can so we can find a way to destroy them."

That was Cavil, Six thought darkly. " Are you a fool? Are we fools?" She raised her voice. " Listen to the transmission. They don't say that they are from Earth. They say that they are from the United Federation of Planets. That means they have resources, more than one world and they have a weapon that can kill us in the worst possible way. What if that's not all they have?"

" We could go back," Simon said hesitantly. " With just one base star, we would need back up anyway."

" Back up we can't afford," Five added quietly. " It would take time to get back, and then what? We refuel, get more basestars, and come back here? It would take years and we'd be coming back to a slaughter. If we even made it back. Those odd energy readings I wanted to investigate, they're similar to the energy trail of this new ship." He paused. " If they have many planets under their control, then it's possible we're deep within their territory. We should talk to them."

" Talk to them," Six said, " and perhaps put an end to this."

" Do you really think that humans will allow us to live?" Cavil spit back. " Powerful humans who can destroy us? Do you think they'll side with us, over their human brothers and sisters in the colonial fleet? Do you really? Did we learn anything from New Caprica?"

That stopped her. Most of what she had learned from New Caprica was that humans carried grudges beyond her imagination. They had invaded New Caprica with the best of intentions, to help the survivors and protect them, and they had been scorned and murdered. Murdered by humans who hated them so much that they strapped bombs onto their own bodies just to kill Cylons. Not one of them had tried to trust the Cylons. Somehow, they had even stolen coded information from the computers, a task she had thought impossible even for Gaius Baltar, the cleverest of the lot when he wasn't drunk.

" We did learn something," Leoben said suddenly. They all turned to look at him. It was rare for Leoben to speak up in meetings. He stepped into the center of the group. " At least I did. I learned that no matter how nice the cage is, it's still a cage. We destroyed the colonies because the colonies had been our cage, and then we made New Caprica a cage. All of this has happened before…. And we were the ones who made it happen again." He stepped over, next to Six. " Six is right. We should at least try to talk to these humans. They might be different."

" We need intelligence and we can't risk antagonizing these people," Five added. " They are stronger, and some of us have to survive in order to tell the ones remaining." He moved closer to Six. " We agree with Six. We should talk to them."

Eight quickly stepped over to join them. " It has to stop. We have to stop… I know we failed on New Caprica… but we should talk to them, at least, and see if they are different. We should be careful…"

That left Simon and Cavil, and while Six knew the battle had already been won, she waited patiently. Without speaking, Simon stepped over to her side of the room, leaving Cavil as the sole opposition.

" I'm outvoted," he said after a long moment. " So we'll go talk." He glared at them all. "As long as everyone understands that we are probably going to our deaths?" He waited until the group nodded. Then he chuckled. " What the hell… Let's all just remember that talk is cheap and we're only going to the table because they beat us badly." He eyed Six. " I want precautions taken. In case they have had their heads filled with colonial nonsense already."

Six nodded. It was a minor concession, considering that she had won the battle. She suspected the real war had just begun.

Chapter Text

" Felix, you're not well."

Felix stopped walking and turned to face his sister. He knew it was coming. Serena was easily to deflect, she always had been, but Sophia was much different. She wasn't going to be appeased with a hug. " Sophia…"

She stopped as well, and looked at him with real concern.

He didn't even know what to say. " This… Do you know… I don't even know what to say anymore." The worst thing was that he wanted to talk to Sophia, but at the same time he couldn't. She was a captain, and duty bound to report anything he told her. Not that she would, he knew without even having to consider it that she had volunteered her ship so that she could make sure he was alive, and not in real trouble. That was Sophia, who had always relished being the big sister to everyone. But family, and protecting family goes both ways, he thought harshly. It was his problem, and Sophia had a family of her own now, and the last thing his family needed was two of them going down for what he had done.

" You don't have to tell me," Sophia said. She encircled her arm around his and began leading him to his quarters. " I have about an hour before I have to take Ambassador Troi to the Galactica, so we're going to talk a little bit and try to catch up. By the way, you know what Mom said when she and Dad first saw the message you sent?"

" That I seemed a little drugged?" Felix shrugged. " I'm pretty positive that Dr. Crusher gave me something." The truth was that he had been hyper and almost hysterical from the moment he realized just what the CAP was reporting until twenty four hours later, when he was on the Enterprise.

" No… that you looked good." Sophia smiled as she opened the door to his quarters.

" Really?" He wondered.

She sat down on the small couch and gestured for him to join her. " Come on, you know Mom."

" She told you to say that I looked good." It was an easy guess, and for a moment he dropped his guard and smiled. It had always been their joke, playing at translating their mother's comments. " So what did she really say?"

Sophia grinned. " He looks so thin!" she said, doing a remarkable imitation of their mother. " So thin and tired! Sophia, you and Serena had better make sure he gets some rest, you know how he is…" She chuckled. " There was more, but honestly I think she was too happy to notice that you looked really disconnected. Dad noticed, by the way. After he got done running around town with bottles of wine making everyone toast to his son the returning hero, he called me up and said to make sure you got looked at." She looked at him, her expression growing more serious. She took his hand. " And that brings me back to my first point. I love you, Felix, and you look sick. I've read some of the reports. You're lucky to be alive, little brother."

"There's a lot of people dead because of the decisions I made. A lot." It felt like a relief to say it. Even if he did feel ashamed.

Sophia pulled him into a hug. " Listen to me," she said softly. " Does all this blame make any of those people less dead? And how many of those people in that fleet would be dead if it wasn't for you?"

" It's not… it's not as simple as that." Because he had been a fool and had thought that the stupid election and New Caprica was more important than wanting to go home. But he had been foolishly naïve, thinking he was doing the right thing for the colonial people. That it was wrong for him to keep them moving for his own selfish desires when there was a planet they could settle on and the majority truly wanted that. He had reported the fraud because he had thought Gauis Baltar had genuinely wanted to build a new world for the colonies… and he didn't want to be selfish and keep everyone moving toward a goal…. On a quest that he thought would kill them all. He had been wrong, badly wrong.

" When it comes to lives, it never is." Sophia said after a moment. She looked down at his hand, at the wrist monitor. Which was embarrassing and humiliating. She touched it and then looked at him intently. " You're worried about the prime directive violations. You're trying to protect me by not talking to me about it. And… you're protecting the colonials. So, I'm not going to ask, and frankly Felix, unless that scrap heap has some secret phaser banks no one is talking about, it can't be that bad." She let go of the monitor and poked him playfully. " You didn't even pretend to be a god, and you had the perfect opportunity. What would Grandpa think? You don't even have hot young priestesses running after you, hoping to please you. Although Dee is nice."

After a moment he laughed. It was a family joke, not one that they shared with outsiders. It wasn't even something they kidded about in front of their parents. " I'll have to leave it to one of the nieces and nephews to restore the family honor." He chuckled again. " But trust me, some of the colonials are so angry with me, I really doubt anyone is going to build a temple to me any time soon."

" Well, on the one hand, these people actually believe in Grandpa. On the down side, I heard there's nothing to eat but processed algae." Sophia shrugged. " So sure, they worship you but without the sacrificial fatted lambs and calves, the feasts in the grand hall would be a little sad."

" When you're there, insist on the dark green ration bars. Those are the best ones. But yes, I think Grandpa would have been a little disappointed in the offerings." He laughed again. " You know… these people don't even eat lamb." He knew that would get Sophia to smile. His mother and father both had a fondness for traditional Greek and Italian cooking and with Greek food, that meant a lot of lamb. He and Sophia were the farthest apart in age and yet it always seemed like it was the two of them battling over the last lamb chop at family dinners.

" Yeah, you know Mom is already plotting every meal you eat for the next year." Sophia said. " I don't blame her. I have this urge to stuff you with lasagna." More seriously, she went on, " You know she and Dad are finagling their way out here, and she's not going to let you get tossed in prison for saving these people."

He nodded. He knew just how big of a diplomatic mess that would cause. If there was a concern that some of the colonials might become religiously overzealous about him, it would be worse for Apollonia Gaeta, the family matriarch. She was Apollo's daughter, after all, and it was hard to ignore the reality that she was over hundred years old and looked like she was perhaps mid forties. She also had more demonstrable powers. On top of that, while retired, his mother had left Starfleet as an admiral in Starfleet Medical. He had no doubt that she would use those connections if she thought he was in danger. " I still won't tell you," he said after a moment. " I did what I did knowing full well that I was responsible for my actions under Federation law. The only reason I haven't told Captain Picard exactly what I did is because it involves some people highly placed with the colonial government…. People that need to be able to help establish the new colony, and you know that the Federation would make sure that anyone involved was removed from the government." He took a deep breath. " Believe me when I say that the last thing the Twelve Colonies needs is to be stripped of its leadership. I owe them that. I don't know if you can understand but… Underneath all the anger you're going to see, these people took me in. I owe them, and they aren't savages… they're good people who lost everything."

-Do I have to make you tell me-

It popped into his mind like a beacon. He smiled. It had been a long time. Too long. It almost hurt.

-You can't make me-

After a moment Sophia grinned. " You're right. I can't make you…. I'd have to hurt you to do it. And I think Cmdr Troi is overreacting a bit." She gripped his hand. " You're better at that than you used to be. Blocking I mean. And did I tell you that Stephen and Felicia can both do your trick with the replicator?"

It made him laugh. " Stephen has to be fourteen now… I know Mom hated it but it really impresses the girls… But Felicia? You could never do the replicator part and you're probably the best… Well, Serena could do it, and Julia…." It was a surprise though. All the scientific research had indicated that their gifts were sex linked. He was a technopath, with moderate telekinesis and mild telepathy. His sisters in contrast were significant telepaths, with mild to moderate telekinesis. Julia was the best of them. She could compete with a highly trained Betazed and she had mastered the replicator trick almost as soon as he had shown her but it tired her out. Serena had needed to practice, and practice hard, and she had to stand within five feet of the replicator in order to catch the glass before it fell. In contrast, he hadn't tried the trick in ten years and he had felt it flowing back. If he practiced, he knew it would come back completely. But Felicia? Had just been an announcement from his sister when he had been lost and she was at best nine. Serena had been fifteen when she mastered the trick. " How is that possible?"

Sophia shrugged. " I don't know. Everyone thought your talents were male talents but she's really good with locks and computers. And Serena's youngest boy is almost as gifted as Julia. The working theory is that either the gifts aren't sex linked or that Serena and I married men who have Palamas indicator genes. By the way," and he could see her move into a more clinical mode, " The colonials have Palamas indicators, don't they?"

"Yes but… how did you know that?" He shook his head. " I mean, I know it's an obvious place to go, considering their religion…."

" You're not out of practice. In fact, you're blocking everything a lot better than you used to. And your friends… They both have that feeling, like when I visit Grandma's relatives in Greece where they still marry within the village…." She considered her words. " An isolated population to begin with… What else do you know?"

" I really didn't think about it. They don't have conscious talents." As he said it, an idea suddenly began to tickle inside his mind, but he thrust it away. " In general, I think that's why they seem more emotional. It's not as easy to hide your feelings."

" I could see that. Serena did too. She likes that Major Adama." Sophia laughed again. " I know that was breakfast was awkward but she hasn't really dated since Eric died. And I like Dee… She likes you."

He could feel the flush of embarrassment. " I don't know that it's going anywhere… She just got divorced…"

" From Lee!" She chuckled and gave him another hug. " This sort of thing only happens to you, Felix. You know that, right?" She stood up. " All right… I have to get ready. I've already been warned about the possible worship issues. According to the reports, some of them actually tried to kill you, little brother."

" It was a while ago," he said easily as he stood up, " and they had their reasons." It was still difficult to even think about.

She eyed him intently. " I'm not going to make you talk about that either, Felix, but you need to talk to someone about it. Like I said before, all of this guilt you're putting yourself through isn't going to bring anyone back." She pulled him into another hug. " I'm leaving Serena here to keep an eye on you. And so she doesn't drive my crew crazy."

" And so she can play with Lee," he added with a grin. " Are you going to tell Mom I don't look so bad?"

" Yes, but that won't stop her worrying. She won't be happy until she sees you herself." Sophia stepped to the door. " Don't look so worried, Felix. You're home now."

He nodded, but it was hard to maintain the cheery façade. Sophia was worried, he could tell, and angry although she was covering it very well. She was going to pry into things and ultimately that would just make it worse.

Chapter Text

Bill Adama carefully patted his uniform. His dress grays had been getting a work out the last few days. He walked briskly through the hallway, relishing the chance to be alone. The Enterprise was sending a diplomat to tour and he wanted to scout out where the trouble spots were. He suspected that an ambassador would be much less interested in the ship's crew and more interested in the civilians living in the starboard flight pod. He had broached both Riker and Worf about the Betazed Amabassador, who they had both met, but neither had been particularly forthcoming. A wonderful woman, they both insisted, but their expressions suggested otherwise. Fun but difficult, Riker had added, and a small warning that Ambassador Troi liked to be outrageous.

She was apparently a telepath as well. All Betazeds were, and Cmdr. Troi was her half human daughter. It amused Bill that the morning civilian newscast on the wireless hadn't picked up on that, even though there was still a lot of public debate on human hybrids. He was sending Lt. Agathon and her child to the Enterprise later that day to satisfy the Federation's curiosity without getting anyone killed. Sharon had proven herself loyal, and he was certain that the Starfleet doctors wouldn't do anything invasive, particularly since he had insisted on the point. It was a matter of time before they insisted on examining the Six in the brig and he wanted Sharon to give them a better idea of the dangers involved before he allowed it. They weren't as soft as he had thought, but the last thing he needed was for one of them to get killed in the brig. Or worse, to fall in love with Six. That was the very last thing they needed.

He stopped suddenly. I must be getting old, he thought with a smile. He had walked all the way down into the engineering deck, too lost in thought to realize where he was going, and he was in the engine computer core. He was certain that the ambassador was not going to want to see rows of computer banks that all connected into different functions of the ship. He had no intention of hauling a diplomat down there, even the crew didn't spend time in the core. At the same time, he knew what had led him down there. If the CIC was the brain of the Galactica, then he was standing in the heart, the core of the ship itself. He put his hands on the nearest console and felt the ship hum under his fingertips. A good ship, he thought suddenly. The fleet might have built bigger ships, better ships, but none of them had survived. Only the Galactica had lasted long enough to bring them to safety, and if he was worried about the FTL drive, it wasn't a crisis worry. The people were safe, and the old ship that he had started his life in the fleet with was the reason they were alive.

"Thank you," he said softly as he pressed his hands onto the metal console. " Thank you for keeping us safe. You brought us to safety. I know those new ships are fancier, and have all sorts of bells and whistles, but you're a good ship. You've done the job for longer and with less help. You're the best ship here and I will never forget how you kept us safe."

It was true, which made it easier to say. " You did good." Everyone deserved to hear that occasionally, and the Galactica deserved it more than most.

~*~

It was exciting and for a change Laura Roslin let herself simply be excited. The worst was past. She wasn't completely without worry, but she didn't let her concerns ruin the mood. They had found Earth, and the Federation seemed more than able to protect them. She was certain that the people were going to vote yes on joining and then it was just a matter of choosing a new planet and that debate was already raging.

If she had never once considering that going into politics would lead her to a historic first diplomatic meeting with an alien ambassador, well she had never really planned to be president of the colonies either. Everything happens for a reason, both Elosha and Billy had liked to say that. She was certain that none of the adult colonials would ever lose that feeling that something bad was lurking around the corner, but she was beginning to think she could at least ignore it at times.

It helped that the amassed crowd on the Galactica's deck seemed to be trying to do the same thing. There was a sort of jubilant hush over the people. The quiet didn't surprise her, nor did the smiling but tired and wan faces. She had been lucky. Jack Cottle had dispensed some sort of hangover medicine to the command staff, and it had relieved the ambrosia induced headache she had awakened with. Clearly either there hadn't been much of the medicine to go around, or else Cottle hadn't broadcasted the remedy. The crew looked happy and excited and very hung over. The party had started as soon as the Cylon basestars had been destroyed and she was certain that it was still going on in various places around the ship. She had at one point been tossing back drinks with Tom Zarek, and Jack Cottle and she was pretty certain that the only reason she hadn't embarrassed herself was because Bill had gently pulled her aside to sleep it off. She was fairly certain that most of the crew hadn't been so lucky. Even the Starfleet exchange officers looked a little ragged around the edges. But then, that didn't surprise her. Most of them weren't used to drinking real alcohol, according to Cmdr. Riker.

He looked just a little tired as he took up a position beside her. " Everyone looks surprisingly refreshed considering the party last night. Or has the party just gotten moved to where we can't see it?"

" I doubt it will stop for a while," Laura said. " Knowing that… that the Federation has the weaponry to defend us, that was probably the last real fear people were hanging on to." She still had some worries, the greatest being that the Federation wouldn't take the threat of infiltration all that seriously, but knowing that the Cylons couldn't just fly in and destroy the new world… It was a relief.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Bill and Tigh making their way to the front of the crowd. No doubt the ambassador was on her way. " So what can you tell me about Ambassador Troi?"

Riker grinned. " How shall I put this? You should be glad that you're not a man. I am very curious to see who the Ambassador decides to set her sights on." He chuckled at her expression. " The Ambassador is known for being very…. Flamboyant. I wouldn't be surprised if she decides to teach everyone how to dance the traditional Betazed mating dance. Or she might ask to hear your traditional music. She can be very… abrasive with her telepathic abilities. I'm sure that she'll make comments that you may find rude. Just remember… She is just testing you."

"You speak from experience," Laura noted.

" I've met the Ambassador several times." Riker's eyes lit up with amusement. " Each time is different." He nodded to the admiral as Bill came up beside her. " Admiral Adama, I was just letting President Roslin know how Ambassador Troi can be a little difficult at first."

Much to her surprise, Bill shrugged nonchalantly. " She asked to see the ship. I assume you or Captain Picard have informed the Ambassador what conditions are like here, so she must know what she's getting into. Besides, this won't be the only delegation from the Federation. Everyone will get used to it." He managed to make it sound simple. Simple and routine, like Bill Adama had been hosting alien ambassadors on the Galactica for years. She struggled not to smile.

The various members of the command staff quickly took their places as the runabout from the Tom Dooley slowly came to rest on the deck. Laura resisted the urge to brush herself off. She almost wished for a uniform. Adama, Tigh, Thrace, and the rest looked worn but still sharp, while she, with her three outfits she had brought with her, was starting to look more shabby than presidential. She had no intention of complaining, because there were people in the fleet with nothing but the rags they were standing in. The Enterprise was providing so much already, and doing it with a method that they considered old fashioned. Captain Picard had suggested that they not use the matter transporters until the general population had seen it demonstrated. She had agreed, because she could see the potential for panic and there were already enough problems in that regard. She wasn't so sure it was a good idea to have Capt. Sophia Gaeta touring the ship, not with the religious questions her ancestry raised, but it was difficult to say no when Bill was still pushing to get Felix Gaeta back on board to fix what he had done. Since she was positive Gaeta had to be the one to fix the engine, they had to show that a member of his family could be on the Galactica and not be killed.

She glanced at Kara Thrace. The young woman looked angry. Hopefully people would get past the anger. Most of them already had already moved past it but she knew Kara hadn't, and neither had some of the more religious types. The Scroll of Apollo had some nasty suggestions in it, about testing those who claimed to be Apollo's chosen and Laura had no intention of letting anyone try something. But, it was a problem for later.

The runabout door opened and immediately, brightly dressed young people leapt out and began dancing about, shaking bells, throwing flowers and dancing with ribbons. After a moment of frenetic dancing, as if signaled, the dancers lined up by the runabout and made a sort of playful archway, of ribbons and thrown flower petals. An older woman emerged, attractive and exotically dressed in robes of deep blue and red. She was festooned with jewelry and scarves made from some sort of filmy, sparkling material. She stepped forward, her bearing regal and raised her hands. " I am Ambassador Lwaxana Troi, Daughter of the Fifth House of Betazed, Holder of the Sacred Chalice of Rixx, and Heir to the Holy Rings of Betazed." The woman made a flourish and bowed. Flower petals rained down upon her from the troop of dancers.

Too hard to top, especially in a shabby pants suit, Laura decided. Besides it was Bill's ship, and his duty to welcome the guest and make introductions. He stepped forward, looking very stern, with his back as straight as a ramrod. " Welcome to the Battlestar Galactica. I am Admiral William Adama. We are honored to have you visit. May I introduce the President of the Twelve Colonies of Kobol, Laura Roslin?" He gestured and Laura stepped forward.

Troi looked at him. " Between you and I," she said loudly, " I think that hour that you spent practicing that in the mirror was well spent. And you," she looked at Laura. Her expression filled with amusement. She gently pushed them together. " You two should really stop the denial. Trust me, everyone," and she gestured to include the assembled crew, " already thinks that you two are an item. Now… I can tell just by all the happy thoughts that there's a party going on. So who is going to escort me to the party? Not you," she said to Bill, " You're already spoken for. And not you, Cmdr. Riker, even though you want to."

Laura noted with some amusement that Cmdr. Riker looked as embarrassed as Bill Adama did. Troi ignored them both though as she moved down the receiving line and stopped at Saul Tigh. It was like watching a butcher size up a side of beef. Ambassador Troi grabbed the man by the arm. " It will be you, I think, to escort me. Now, let's go to this… Joe's Bar."

" But…" Laura bit her tongue to stop from laughing as Tigh sputtered in protest. " I have duty… Madam Ambassador."

" But we don't want to be discourteous," Laura said suddenly. " I'm sure Admiral Adama doesn't mind, right Admiral?" It would do Tigh some good and if the woman wanted to hang around in the bar, it certainly made things easier.

" There, that's settled," Troi said easily, " Now why don't you take me to this party, and tell me how such a rakishly handsome man came to be escorting the Ambassador?" She pulled Tigh along and the small army of dancers followed, clutching a variety of packages. If she had the Ambassador's measure, the party was about to get even bigger.

"Well," Bill said after a moment, " Why do I feel like I just dodged a bullet?" He looked at Riker.

" More than a bullet," Riker said knowingly. " Trust me on that. I'm not surprised at her choice though." He grinned and touched his head. " She has a fondness for Captain Picard as well."

It took everyone a moment to recover. Laura found her voice first. " So… I suppose we should check on her later."

"I sense that she'll let us know if she needs anything," Bill said. Laura bit her tongue again. It was obvious that Bill Adama found the whole business hilarious. He smiled slightly at Riker. " I assume the Vulcan ambassador won't be so easy to please? I only have so many senior officers to hand out."

Riker grinned and then gestured back to the runabout where more Starfleet officers were getting out. Laura did let herself smile as the tall, quite lovely Starfleet captain joined them. There was no need to guess who Captain Sophia Gaeta was, because the woman was a taller, more pretty version of Felix Gaeta. Poor kid, she thought suddenly, Gaeta was hardly a short man but his sister was as tall as Karl Agathon. There was no mistaking parentage either. Sophia looked a little bit older but otherwise the two of them could have been twins.

" I'm sorry," she said pleasantly, " I left my dancing troop and flower bearers behind. I didn't want to turn it into a competition. I brought some of my medical officers instead." She held out her hand to Bill. " You must be Admiral Adama. Felix has said so many good things about you. On behalf of my family, I thank you for bringing him home to us. I look forward to seeing your ship and meeting your crew." She gestured to her assembled crew, about twelve total, who all held bundles of supplies. " Madame President, my ship, the Tom Dooley, is ready and willing to assist. We're more equipped to deal with refugee issues than the Enterprise and I imagine there's any number of things we can help you with. We've got industrial replicators ready."

" Thank you," Laura said after a moment. She even had the same mannerisms as her brother, stern and stiff on the surface, but genuine warmth and humor underneath. Possibly more personable than Felix, Laura thought as she watched the woman work the receiving line, making pleasant comments and seeming very much like the other Starfleet officers they had met, and not at all like a child of the gods. That would help, Laura thought. That Felix Gaeta had always seemed 'normal' could be explained by the idea that he was concealing himself, but with his sister there, seeming equally normal… it might calm down the more religious sorts.

Still, it made her nervous to see Kara Thrace shake the woman's hand. Not so much that Kara looked remarkably hostile, although anyone who knew the Viper pilot could see that she was glaring daggers at Captain Gaeta. What made Roslin nervous was that Sophia Gaeta was glaring right back.

That could be a problem.

Chapter Text

It was a little eerie, Jack Cottle thought, to talk to a woman who so clearly resembled Felix Gaeta. At the same time, he had to admit, it had been a pure pleasure having medical professionals on the ships. Even T'kil, who was one of the best doctors he'd ever seen, even if she was weird to look at. And Sophia Gaeta was a medical doctor as well as a ship captain which he found interesting.

" I have to warn you," he said as they both strode down the Galactica's corridor. " The sickbay is very primitive, in comparison to what you're used to." He physically ached to see the sickbay on the Enterprise but he kept that desire clamped down. There would be opportunity, he was certain of that, and it was more important to be on the Galactica for the time being, organizing the new supplies, learning new treatments and helping some of the people that had been physically shattered by the Cylon attack. But it was still a little embarrassing to show off the sick bay. It was clean, and that was about it. He'd already seen the other Starfleet doctors flinch at the fact that the only medications he'd had were painkillers made from plants he'd taken from the Cloud Nine before its destruction and homegrown antibiotics that had started as moldy bread from the mess hall.

Sophia shrugged nonchalantly. " You've been running for close to five years. This ship was being decommissioned. I'm sure that the place wasn't well stocked to begin with. I'm not going to look down my nose at you or your staff. There's only so much that can be done with skill." She chuckled suddenly. " Before I leave, I'll make sure you get the biographical information for my ship's namesake. He made hospitals out of tents in the jungles of Earth."

"Hmm.. I did that on New Caprica." He lit a cigarette as they walked. She rolled her eyes, and again he was struck by how she resembled Felix. Taller of course, and he wondered if that was difficult for her, but her manner was similar and so were her expressions. " You and Lt. Gaeta… Lt. Cmdr. Gaeta… look very much alike. I imagine you've heard that before."

" Yes," she said after a moment. " But not in a very long time." She smiled pleasantly. " It's good to hear. We all missed him a great deal. My oldest boy looks just like him which helped but… it's been too long."

" I hope you got some time with him," Cottle said as he puffed on his cigarette. He meant it. Gaeta was a man with flaws like any other, but Cottle didn't begrudge him the good fortune. He had seen the younger man show up to sick call on New Caprica after the Cylons had come with too many bruises to think he was a traitor. He'd picked up too many bundles of illicit medication as well, after Gaeta had come by. He had known about the Circle, and suspected that the boot shaped bruises and broken ribs he'd treated Gaeta for so long ago had come from humans and not Cylons, but the man had kept his silence about it. All things considered, Cottle was happy for Gaeta. Particularly since Gaeta getting some good news meant that they all did as well.

" A little bit," the woman said happily. " More soon, I hope." Her pleasant looks darkened slightly. " Do you have any idea how terrible smoking is for your health?"

" I heard it causes lung cancer or some such nonsense," Cottle said easily. He took out the pack that T'kil had supplied him with and offered her one. He had a feeling.

And he was right. With a familiar grin, she took a cigarette and let him light it. " These are so terrible…." She inhaled deeply. " But good. You aren't the one who taught this to Felix are you?"

" No I think he picked it up by himself." He chuckled as he said it. She even sounded like a sister.

"Good. That means I don't have to yell at you." She inhaled deeply as they walked to the lift. Cottle found himself liking her. Whatever the genetic stew was that created the Gaeta family, he didn't know and didn't care, but he liked Captain Sophia Gaeta of Starfleet. Of course, it had been a long time since an attractive female doctor had spent time with him. Even longer since he'd found an attractive female doctor that liked a cigarette or two.

The lift door opened, and he found himself looking at Kara Thrace. Cottle hesitated. He wasn't afraid of Kara Thrace, not exactly. He was afraid that all the hate that the woman had buried inside herself was going to explode in a very unpleasant way. Thrace had been relatively quiet the last few days, but that only worried him more. Kara Thrace quiet and pissed off was much more scary than Kara Thrace raging.

On the other hand, showing fear was the best way to get a wild animal to attack, and he had no intention of cowering away from Thrace. He wasn't a shrink, but he knew that a lot of her problem was that some brakes had finally been applied to her behavior. The luxury of safety, and of weapons that could defend them meant that the fleet no longer had to forgive the transgressions of the flight wing. That meant no more wrist slaps for fighting, for alcoholic binging, disrespect, or any of the other activities Kara was so fond of. Being a Viper pilot was no longer the equivalent of being a fleet god, it was just a job again. And not likely to be an important job if he understood the technology that was soon to come to them. " Captain Thrace, mind sharing the lift?"

Her eyes passed over him and rested on Sophia. " Not at all." She took a position at the back of the lift car. It made him nervous, particularly since he could see Sophia's temper rise on her face, even though her expression didn't change. She was like her brother in that as well, Cottle thought with amusement. He pressed the buttons that would let the lift stop at the deck the sickbay was on.

" So you're Felix's sister," Kara said after a moment. Cottle didn't like her tone, but there was nothing to complain about.

" That's what Mom and Pop said when he was born," Sophia said.

" I can see the curly hair runs in the family. Is it the same for the lying? Or is that just a privilege of being part god?" Kara smirked.

Sophia turned and hit the emergency stop button. " Dr. Cottle, I assume you're bound by the same privacy rules that I am, as a doctor, correct?"

" Yes…" He schooled his features to not look concerned, although he was suddenly worried. Trapped in an elevator with two angry women… He'd prefer Cylons. It would be a quicker death.

" Good." With lightening speed Sophia grabbed Kara by the woman's uniform and slammed her into the lift wall, holding the smaller woman up so that Kara's feet didn't quite touch the ground. " Now, you listen to me, you little bitch," Sophia snarled. " You're not talking to a Starfleet officer right now. You're talking to me, Sophia Gaeta, a woman who happens to love her only brother very much. I know who you are."

" Really?" Kara hissed back. " What do you think you know?"

" I know you tried to kill Felix." Sophia slammed Kara again and Cottle almost protested. He didn't, because he sensed that neither woman wanted him to interfere. " You are alive right now because Felix told me that you had your reasons. I don't agree, I think he's letting guilt over things he couldn't know or change cloud his reasoning, but he's my brother and I will respect his wishes. That doesn't mean I have to listen to your nasty little mouth or your nasty little accusations. I've met your kind before."

Kara kicked her hard, hard enough to make the Earth woman flinch. " What exactly is my kind," Kara asked, her voice dark with rage.

" You're a bully," Sophia hissed back. " A bully that's used to getting her way, and a bully that has absolutely no idea who's she's dealing with. Do you think I couldn't snap your neck right now if I wanted? Do you think Felix couldn't?" She slammed Kara again, and Cottle realized that she was taking great pains to not break Thrace's bones. " Felix was raised on Earth, and on Earth, men who beat women, even when they sorely need to be taught some manners, are considered lower than dirt. That, and the fact that your Cylons seem to be enhanced humans and Felix would have been a fool to beat you down and let himself be killed just to make a point. But now… now that you people know that there's more to the galaxy than humans and Cylons… Felix doesn't have to worry about being executed as a Cylon. So believe me when I tell you, I can kill you with my bare hands." She held Kara against the wall with one hand. " There were a lot of scientific tests. I'm much stronger than the average human woman. I assure you, it's been proven that my brother is stronger than I."

"What the hell is your point?" Kara snarled, her voice sounding choked.

" He has to come back here to fix this heap. He had to hide his abilities or else you people would have killed him. I intend to make sure that he gets over that, but let me be very clear. If you ever touch my brother again without his consent, I promise you, I'll touch you. And I'm a doctor. I know how make sure you live a very long time in very miserable circumstances. So if the urge comes upon you to act like a little savage beast, remember this conversation. If I even think you gave Felix a harsh look, I'll make you pay for it. And if for some reason I'm not there, someone will be. There's six of us, and one of you, and we love our brother. Do you understand? Or should I leave marks?" Sophia slammed Kara one more time.

And that was where it needed to stop, Cottle decided. He restarted the lift. " You two need to calm down," he said softly.

"I'm perfectly calm," Sophia said, her eyes never leaving Kara's. " Do you follow what I am saying, Captain Thrace?"

Kara's eyes burned with rage. " I understand, Captain Gaeta."

This is bad, Cottle thought as the lift doors opened. Sophia let go of her grip on Kara's uniform and stepped out the lift. Cottle waited a moment, until he was certain that Kara wasn't going to make a running leap at Sophia. But Kara merely glared stonily at the Starfleet officer until the lift doors closed. Cottle turned to Sophia. " I'm sure that felt good," he said gruffly as he lit another cigarette, " But I don't think you did anything other than throw gasoline on the fire."

After a moment, Sophia nodded. " You're right," she said after a long moment, " but it did feel good. And it reminds me that I would like genetic samples of the population."

Chapter Text

Robots didn't have babies. Beverly Crusher accepted that as a basic fact. Robots and androids, if sentient, could build children. They could not just make love to a human and get with child. That alone meant the so-called bio-Cylons were closer to Humans than either the Colonials or the Cylons would ever want to admit. She was intensely curious to have a Cylon on board the Enterprise to examine. She had wanted to go over to the Galactica herself, because that was where the Cylons were, but it was a bigger priority to get some semblance of health care to the people in the colonial fleet. One aging doctor for a population of over forty one thousand, coupled with next to no food, poor hygiene and high stress… It was a deadly combination. Some of the medical personnel who had gone to the smaller ships had found cases of scurvy. If the colonial fleet hadn't found Federation help, she was quite certain there would have been an epidemic of death from nutritional disorders within the next few months. So it had been more important for her to coordinate the relief effort than to satisfy her curiosity. Now though, as she stood next to Karl Agathon, she could admit that she was anxious to see a Cylon in the flesh.

The shuttle landed and she was amused to see Agathon look relieved. She hadn't had a lot of interaction with the colonial exchange officers but what she had seen of Agathon amused her. Nothing if not a devoted husband and father, he had questioned her sternly about the type of tests she wanted to run and insisted that he be present. Which she had no problem with since she wasn't planning to vivisect the man's wife and child. His worry made sense though, from the reports she had read. It was insane that the people who had almost thrown Felix Gaeta out an airlock, and who with no doubt had murdered other collaborators, had allowed a Cylon to live among them, and in theory, have a child. Then again, Agathon was clearly concerned about his family. It couldn't have been easy for him, she thought as the shuttle doors opened. Her estimation of him went up as he swept the giggling toddler that ran out of the shuttle right to him. " Hey baby girl," he said as he hugged her. " Have you got kisses for Daddy?"

The little girl obliged him with a kiss on the cheek and then quickly waved her stuffed toy for him to admire. "Tyrannosaurus Rex!" she said happily.

"Oh, he's scary," Agathon said appreciatively. His smile got even broader as the Cylon known as Number Eight, Sharon Agathon came up beside him. He turned to Beverly and gestured with his free hand to Sharon. " Sharon, this is Dr. Beverly Crusher. She's the head doctor here on the Enterprise. Dr. Crusher, this is my wife Sharon and my daughter Hera." The little girl, who looked like a well grown three year old, turned her face into her father's shoulder.

Just like any normal, shy little girl would. Which only made Beverly Crusher wonder even more about the nature of Cylons. " I want to assure you," she said to Sharon, "that I consider you to be a volunteer. I don't plan on running any tests that are painful and if anything makes you uncomfortable, I want you to speak up." Fortunately it was a rare lifeform indeed that felt a molecular scan with a tricorder. But considering the information she had read that had come from the Galactica, she wanted to make the point. There weren't going to be any rapes or forced abortions on the Enterprise and no one was going to steal Sharon Agathon's child away for a year or so just because they wanted to. As much as she was intrigued about just what Cylons really were, she couldn't imagine going through the nightmare that the young couple had dealt with. It didn't shock her in the slightest that Karl Agathon held his daughter like she could disappear at any minute. It also didn't escape her that Sharon looked relieved. " Why don't you follow me?"

~*~

It was a lot nicer than she expected. Sharon was impressed. The Cloud Nine had previously been the nicest ship she had ever been on and it had always at the core, looked like a ship. The Enterprise's corridors looked like a hotel. The doors looked like sliding doors, not hatches. And the people…. They did stare, but not in an angry way. They were curious, curious about Cylons. She was curious about them. Because of how short handed they were, and because she had to take care of Hera, she simply hadn't opportunity to meet many of the exchange officers. She certainly hadn't seen much of the non human officers and she wasn't embarrassed to turn and look at the occasional alien. At the same time, she didn't sense any malice in the looks.

The Enterprise's sickbay also looked fancy and hi-tech, and Sharon willed herself to not be nervous. Dr. Crusher, in an odd way, was very different than Dr. Cottle, the only other human medical practitioner she ever spent time with. Cottle was a cranky, gruff bastard but… The only times she had ever worried about being in his care was when President Roslin had made it clear her orders were going to be obeyed regardless of Cottle's views. It still worried her, just how much control the president had over her life. Dr. Crusher, in contrast, seemed very pleasant and nice. Her interest seemed scientific first and foremost, though.

The Federation doctor seemed anxious to run tests. " If you could sit on the scanning bed," the red haired woman asked pleasantly. " Captain Agathon, I know you want to be here, so I asked Petty Officer Zabriskie to be available to watch Hera. They'll be right in the next room." The petty officer, a pretty young woman held out her arms and Karl reluctantly gave Hera to her.

"Don't worry," Zabriskie said, " I've got two of my own." She jiggled Hera. " I see you like Ms. Tyrannosaur. Maybe I have some friends for her…" Hera giggled and that eased Sharon's mind a great deal. There weren't a lot of people on the Galactica who treated Hera like a little girl. So did the fact that they went into a room that, from what Sharon could see, was clearly decorated for children. Starfleet was definitely different.

"I've got two different specialists coming," Crusher said as she stepped over to the scanning table. " What I want to do first is run a complete diagnostic scan on you, and then on Hera. If you could lie down?"

" I don't… have to take my clothes off?" That was new for a medical exam.

" No, all you have to do is lie there." Crusher held up a small metal device. " The scanning bed and my tricorder do all the work. Unless there's something significantly different under your clothes and I had been led to believe that Cylons and humans were anatomically the same. At least on the surface. So we don't need to have you strip."

Sharon nodded and laid down on the table. It wasn't uncomfortable. She could see Karl leaning against one of the other scanning beds, not quite concerned but watching carefully.

" You shouldn't feel anything," Crusher said as she began to wave the device. But Sharon did, an odd, not unpleasant tingling when the device came close. After a moment she began to laugh.

" I'm sorry… but that tickles," she said between giggles.

Crusher stopped. " It shouldn't tickle. You shouldn't feel it at all."

" It doesn't hurt…" Sharon reassured. Despite her cool demeanor, Crusher had been pleasant and she seemed concerned. " It just …. Tickles. Under my skin." The worst it felt was like pins and needles and that could be easily borne, and for the most part it did tickle.

"Just say so if you need me to stop, or if there's any discomfort," the doctor said as she resumed her scan. Sharon nodded, heartened more than a little by the woman's concern. She could see that the doctor was more concerned and taking care to check on her reactions. Which in a way just made her feel bad since she couldn't quite stop the laughing at every pass, made worse by the fact that Karl was starting to laugh at her.

"Stop it," she warned him between giggles. " You're just making it worse." Because she knew exactly what he was thinking and she didn't want to explain to a doctor that her husband was laughing because he was reminded of the last time they'd had sex.

Crusher smiled knowingly. " Don't worry, I'm almost done with the scan. Do you have any health issues, Sharon?" She gestured that Sharon could sit up. " Do you get ill? I suppose my bigger question is whether any Cylons get ill?"

" I'm usually really healthy," Sharon said after a moment. Crusher seemed to be perusing the results of the scan but still listening. " We can get sick…. I get colds."

Crusher waved her distractedly, her eyes intent on the scan. " Everybody gets colds. The rhinovirus will inherit the galaxy. Whoever comes in contact with it ends up sniffling and sneezing. Anything else?"

"No, not really." Sharon hesitated. Something had been bothering her but… she glanced at Karl. It was too soon. " It's one of those things… Cylons don't get sick."

" And Cylons lie like rugs," Karl said with a laugh. " You were sick two weeks ago, right before we met the Enterprise." To Crusher he added, " I was actually a little worried to be away. She was throwing up, vomiting…."

"Right after waking up, I imagine," Crusher said dryly. "I'm going to submit these tests and get Hera for her scan… You two might want to talk for a moment." The doctor walked away, obviously amused.

"What did she mean?" Karl said suddenly. He stepped over to the scanning bed and took Sharon's hand. " Are you ok?" Sharon nodded. One of the things she loved about Karl was how he wasn't afraid to be worried or concerned about someone. Too many people in the fleet had turned off their ability to care.

" It's good news," she said softly. " I wasn't sure….I was late and then I was sick… I was going to see Dr. Cottle to have it confirmed but… we're going to have another baby." She smiled, hoping to reassure him. They had talked about more kids, and they had both decided that they didn't want more children until they were certain that the baby would be safe. Hera's birth, kidnap, and rescue had been the worst time of their marriage. But… with the colonies finding Earth, she hoped it would be different. Dr. Crusher hadn't exactly recoiled in shock and disgust after all. Far from it, in fact.

Karl's face lit up. " Another baby? That's… that's wonderful!" He pulled her into a hug. " It's going to be different this time," he whispered. " These people have laws. I'll figure out a way for us to stay here."

"I love you," she said simply. And she did. Something about Karl Agathon made her feel safe and secure and loved. If he said he would find a way to make it work, he would.

The door swooshed open and they broke off their embrace as one of the alien crewmembers walked in. Sharon was struck by how odd and yet how familiar he looked. She assumed it was a he, he looked like a male human as far as his features went, but that was where the familiarity ended. He had albino white skin and yellow eyes, almost like a cat. His expression was curiously flat, like the Vulcan officer that had been helping Dr. Cottle and yet… He seemed intensely curious.

And Karl seemed to recognize him, and while she could feel her husband tense, it wasn't extreme.

" I am Commander Data," the alien said. His eyes were all over her, and she didn't understand why. She understood how men and women looked at her. She always knew she was a Cylon but she had the sleeper agent's memories as well as her own and in a way, she could remember how people would look at her as though she was an attractive woman. People on the Galactica looked at her like she was the enemy. And this man… looked at her like she was a work of art. And at the same time, she realized suddenly just what he was.

" You're a robot," she said once she had found her voice. " Like a Centurion… a Centurion that talks." It was shocking. Shocking that the Earth humans had a robot dressed in one of their uniforms, an officer's uniform, and the rank of commander at that, and… just the idea that a purely mechanical being like a Centurion could speak and think.

" An android," Data corrected. " And you are a Cylon." He looked at her. " Your design is exquisite. Many researchers in artificial intelligence heralded my construction as the limit of robotic engineering, but I am not shocked that Cylons such as yourself were able to infiltrate human society."

"Neither am I," Dr. Crusher said as she came back into the room, holding Hera, " but for entirely different reasons."

Chapter Text

"I don't understand…" Sharon said. "I can't be a human being. I'm a Cylon." Beverly almost wanted to give the poor woman a hug. Almost, because Karl Agathon already had the woman in his arms. Still, it wasn't every day that one got to shatter a person's entire belief structure. She didn't like having to be the one to do it, but it had to be done. There was no hiding the evidence, and Beverly knew that Captain Picard would make a lot of use out of the things that the scan had revealed.

"I know this is a shock," she said to the younger woman. " Your DNA doesn't lie. You are human. There's definitely some oddities," and that was being very generous, "but unless you're not representative of the entire population, Cylons are a human variant."

"All right, what does that mean?" Agathon asked, his look suddenly intent. "You said in that meeting that Cylons might be augmented humans. I did a little reading about augmented humans. They're about as welcome in your society as Cylons are in ours." He looked at Sharon worriedly, and then at his daughter, and Beverly suddenly saw his fear plainly. No doubt Karl "Helo" Agathon viewed meeting up with the Federation as the answer to his prayers. His family, his only family left, was currently in constant danger in the Colonial Fleet. No matter that Sharon was genetically human for the most part, or that she had apparently turned her back on her own people, she was always going to be a Cylon to them. Her daughter was always going to be a Cylon as well. It would always be an issue, and with another child on the way, she wasn't shocked that he was worried. Especially since she was certain that escaping to the safety of the Federation had crossed his mind.

She gestured to the scan results. "Sharon, you do have some indication of physical genetic augmentation but not enough to classify you as an augment." More to herself and to Data, she added, "I want to exam the other Cylon, the prisoner to be sure, but my initial conclusion is that the human appearing Cylons are human, with some physical genetic enhancements and with… essentially an infestation of nanites." She tried to find something to say that would be reassuring. "Technically, you're a human being with some cybernetic enhancement."

"But what does that really mean?" Helo asked worriedly.

"Sharon is human." Crusher said simply. "Unless she's significantly different from other Cylons, and the fact that there's multiple Number Eights suggests she isn't, then the biologically based Cylons may all be human clones with nanites providing the base personality of the model." Which was going to be a huge problem to explain to the colonial people but the truth was there to see. The reason Cylons couldn't be picked out by medical testing was that the colonial people didn't possess the technology to find nanites. Judging by Sharon's shock, it had never occurred to the woman that Cylons were anything other than wetware robots.

" But…" Sharon seemed to be struggling to think. " If I'm human… Why am I the only one who can have a baby? If you're right, then why can't any of the others have children? It's one of God's commandments, to be fruitful and multiply, and that's why Hera is special. Because she was the first child born to us. It's… it's not like I was the first one to try to get pregnant."

No, Beverly thought. If the reports of rape farms were true, and she had no reason to doubt the reports, the Cylons had been trying their hardest to replicate the event of Sharon's pregnancy. Which made it amusing, at least to her, that the second Agathon child was apparently unplanned. "I don't know why. I suspect the nanites are programmed to prevent fertility." She suspected that was not a design flaw either. How better to control the bio-Cylons, she mused, than to send them off on a mission to chase their own tails. Tell them that God wants babies, and neglect to mention that they were designed from conception to not bear children. To Data she added, "We'll need to get the Cylon prisoner scanned as well to be certain, but I suspect that the nanites in Sharon have faulty programming. That's allowing her to get pregnant while the other Cylons aren't able."

Which also explained why the Cylons had been so fascinated with the child. Beverly wondered suddenly if Sharon's fertility wasn't a design flaw in the nanites programming after all. Whoever was behind the bio-Cylons had spent a great deal of time designing them, and that had to include their religion. Cylons were human after all was said and done, and they had emotions. If they thought having children was futile, that they could never truly obey their god's commands, they would lose hope. But let one woman have a child… then they know it's not impossible and will work and no doubt pray that much harder. A very effective method of control, she realized.

Sharon wiped her eyes. "So, Hera's a perfectly normal little girl?" she asked softly, looking with concern at the little girl sitting on the scanning bed. " Does she have… the nanites that you're talking about?"

" No, she doesn't," Beverly said after a moment. "I think when she was born, she did, but the colony may have been destroyed by her immune system." She wasn't sure about that, but the child still bore remnants of nanites in her blood. There had been a massive die off, something that may have contributed to the child's serious illness. Neither parent was very helpful on that score. Hera had been sick on the Cylon basestar and then had gotten better. "She's certainly healthy now. She has your physical enhancements, Sharon, so she'll likely be stronger and more agile than the average human woman but not outside the high range. Healthier too. Your genetic code has been scrubbed clean of defects." Which was a good thing, Beverly supposed. Cloning had a tendency to cause problems. Someone had taken a great deal of care to make sure that the Cylon genetic code was healthy. It also wasn't the time to mention that Hera Agathon was getting a good dose of Palamas indicators from her father. Those certainly weren't coming from Sharon, but that merely confirmed one of the current theories running around the ship. That the colonials represented a population that had at some point interacted with the life forms of Pollux 4 already seemed like a given, and since most Earth descending humans had some of the indicators, she would be upsetting them both for nothing.

Still, it was obvious that the young couple was worried, worried and frightened at how the news would affect them. There would be a new colony, Beverly had no doubt of that, and they were worried about their family. "You know, the level of enhancement you have is well within Federation guidelines. You don't have to stay with the people of the Twelve Colonies. Considering the situation, it would be relatively easy to claim you have discrimination concerns." It would mean leaving everyone they knew, but judging by the sudden gleam in both their eyes, Beverly doubted it would be that big of a hardship for them. It was something for them to think about, regardless. "It wouldn't be hard. The nanites factor is unique and I have some other concerns but Hera would make the qualification as fully human and so would you. You both are more human from a biological standard than say, Lt. Cmdr. Gaeta."

"Wow… it's always pleasant to hear my claim to membership in the human species brought up," drawled a new voice. Beverly Crusher looked up in dismay as Lt. Cmdr. Felix Gaeta sauntered into the sickbay, in uniform but somehow looking decidedly disheveled.

"I think you know that's not what we're doing here," Beverly said after a moment. He was drunk, she realized. Not the healthiest way to handle some of his problems, but she had been monitoring his requests for alcohol with the shipboard computer. Overindulging once or twice wasn't a crime. Showing up drunk for duty, while possibly standard operating procedure in the Colonial fleet, was considered a lapse in discipline at best in Starfleet. "You might want to take a moment or two to shake it off, Cmdr. Gaeta." He was the other specialist she had wanted to assist with Sharon, more because she was curious to know just how much control he could exert on a biological Cylon. Plus, he was the Cylon expert.

He looked at her quizzically. "Oh, you think I've been at the synthehol. No, you see, I was put on leave yesterday, for three days, and all my meetings and briefings were canceled so I thought that it was a good time to kick back and perhaps indulge in a relaxing beverage. So after I took the time to reprogram my replicator to make real alcohol and after I drank several different cocktails, I find out that, much to my surprise, I'm already ten minutes late to a suddenly rescheduled meeting in sick bay. So I finished my last shot of vodka and made my way here… Just in time, apparently, to discover that Sharon Agathon is more human than I." He smirked at Sharon. "Congratulations, by the way. If nothing else, that will make it much easier for you to get Hera into a good school on Earth. Being able to check the human box on the application helps a lot."

"That's really not where I was going with that comment," Beverly said after a moment. Gaeta was drunk, and from real alcohol, she had no doubt that he had the ability to get the replicators on his side for any sort of debauchery he wanted to commit, but he was also getting both the Agathons to smile and calm down. It also seemed like he was acting more drunk than he actually was.

He waved off her concern as he took a seat on one of the spare scanning beds. "I know, I know. Everyone is special in their own way, the ugly duckling is really a swan, Rudolph saves Christmas because he's different…"

"The drunken ass from Earth directs the colonial fleet to safety?" Karl added, beginning to smile. "Because he's really some secret part energy being and not human?"

"See? Helo understands the game," Gaeta said with a laugh. "So now what? I assume I am here for demonstration purposes."

Where was a counselor when you really needed one, Beverly thought. She wasn't without some psychiatric training, but she had her hands fulls with Sharon Agathon being devastated over not being a robot. She didn't have time for the deep rooted childhood issues Felix Gaeta apparently had over being on display. It helped that she had a good feeling that he was intentionally trying to make things awkward. "Yes, you are, Mr. Gaeta. Captain Picard wanted a better understanding of how much control you can exert over a Cylon."

"The easy answer, without a demonstration," Gaeta said glibly, "is hardly any at all. At least with Sharon's sort of Cylon which is…. Human with nanites? Is that what we found out?"

"Human clones with physical augmentation and nanites," Helo added after a moment. He seemed to be picking up on the attempt to reassure Sharon, and as irritating as Gaeta was being, it relieved Beverly as well. She was pretty good at reading people. Felix Gaeta was annoyed about his somewhat nebulous status as a human hybrid being pointed out, but he was also trying very hard to be light hearted about Sharon's sudden change in status. His theory about the biological Cylons had been right, and she realized suddenly that he was struggling to not show his surprise. He hadn't expected Cylons to be human, and that made her curious.

"Define hardly at all," Data asked after a moment. "Hardly at all was much different than not at all." Beverly nodded in approval. She had a sneaking suspicion that a lot of Gaeta's guilt was centered on what he could do as a hybrid versus what he led people to believe he could do as a human.

He looked at Helo and Sharon, not at her and Data. "I can't sense Cylons. Skinjobs… human appearing Cylons, whatever we call it, I can't tell they're different. I didn't know D'anna Biers was a Cylon, I didn't know that Shelly Godfrey was one and… I didn't know Boomer was one. Not until she shot the Admiral." Beverly found herself nodding along with the two colonials. She had looked through the many reports Admiral Adama had sent and the shooting incident with the original Sharon Valerii had piqued her interest, more because she was impressed that a nurse with little experience had saved a man that had been shot at point blank range.

"I never tried to do anything with Cylons, not intentionally." Gaeta took a deep breath. "I was too afraid that it would fail, that I wouldn't be able to do anything, and it wasn't like there were that many opportunities. I did figure out the transponder units, but those are purely mechanical. I could never find a good reason to spend time on the flight deck with the captured raider. Then… on New Caprica, I was just concentrating so hard on making sure that they didn't notice me… Until I realized that I was making them not notice me. I was working late and one of the Cavils came into my office and just started screaming at me about supplies and I… snapped. I started screaming at him to go away and leave me alone. And he did. He didn't even look at me for three days and this was the same guy who liked to punch me if the reports weren't properly typed. And I spent the next day completely wiped out. But… it did let me know that I could control them. A little."

"An instinctive response." Beverly said after a moment. "You understand that you probably were controlling the nanites, correct?"

" It's like they have a hive of bees inside them," Gaeta said. " It's different with Centurions, or an android like Mr. Data. I wouldn't trust my ability with a Centurion unless I was close to it, but within ten to twenty feet, I could stop one. I did stop a few. They weren't easy but one of the reasons I had time to work with the Cylon computers was due to how I could tell the Centurions that they didn't see me. And one time Three, the Biers model…. She caught me and she was going to kill me and I told her to stop. And she did. I told her to forget that she saw anything and she really fought me on that. I was afraid that she was going to figure it out, but then the fleet came back." He looked sharply at Sharon and then at Beverly. "You want me to demonstrate on Sharon. With a scanner running. I don't mind satisfying your curiosity but I have to be honest. It didn't work that well. Three always looked at me like she wanted to hurt me, like she knew I'd done something but couldn't quite prove it. And I was frightened out of my mind both times that I did it."

"No… that's not really true," Sharon said. She looked at Gaeta. " You made yourself invisible to them… to us. It was eerie… even after. When I was on the basestar… getting Hera… The others would talk about New Caprica. It's like you weren't there, even when you were in the room with them."

Gaeta shook his head. "They knew I was there. I just made them forget I shouldn't be there." He laughed suddenly. "On that last day, I was sitting there, with a gun, while Cavil was going on about how dangerous the Resistance was, and I'm basically drawing a picture of the upcoming battle for them. With a gun, right in front of them all."

"You know, you really should tell people what you can and can't do," Helo said suddenly. He looked suddenly chagrinned. " I thought that if you control computers, that controlling a Centurion would be easy."

" And I should have stopped the one that went rampaging through the Galactica," Gaeta added cheerfully. " I know. This will shock you but… I can get tired. You weren't there but you read the reports." He seemed to be waiting for Helo to make the connection, and Beverly wasn't surprised that the taller man nodded after a moment. " I was exhausted from working with the firewall and in shock. I was barely awake for the next few weeks."

" I do want to do the test," Beverly said after a moment, "but I think we should schedule it for tomorrow. I think Sharon, you might want to take a little bit of time," which was really an understatement since Sharon looked better but Beverly suspected the woman needed a little time to digest all that she had learned. "Perhaps, Mr. Gaeta, you could clear your vacation schedule a little tomorrow morning so you can try this sober?"

She was willing to be a good sport, after all.

" I suppose I can put off the day long binge until after tomorrow morning," he said easily. To Sharon and Helo, he added, " I don't suppose you three are free for lunch? I know a place where the replicator gives real alcohol."

" I thought we had been drinking real alcohol," Helo said as he picked up Hera.

" I can't anyway," Sharon said. She smiled suddenly and leaned against Helo. " We're… going to have another baby."

Gaeta took that in with a blink of his eyes. He was a cool one, Beverly thought after a moment. Being invisible, just another face in the crowd, was not just a trick he used on the Cylons. He wasn't drunk at all, she realized, he just hadn't wanted to participate in the test, enough so that he was willing to take a disciplinary action instead. Or else he just wanted to get in trouble. Troi had mentioned her concerns about depression and suicide and Beverly was seeing it. He's having a harder time than Deanna realizes, she thought.

"Congratulations," he said after just a second. " I should at least take you to lunch then."

" You do owe Felix a drink," Helo said reassuringly. Beverly was amused to see the young woman look embarrassed.

" I can't believe you told him," she said, swatting Helo playfully. " Felix, I did think you were a Cylon, but only because you're good with our technology and you never get sick."

" It's all right," Gaeta said. " But I'd like to know why everyone thinks I don't get sick. Doesn't anyone remember that I had the flu right after the big ground breaking ceremony? I was running a fever, flat on my back in a tent?"

Helo laughed. " And the whole government shut down? I forgot about that."

" I was so sick, I have this period of almost five days where I have no idea what was happening." He shrugged. " But here's the irony. Sharon's really human and she thought I was a Cylon because of things that are partly due to my being not quite human."

" Yeah, part god." Sharon grinned. " How did that happen?"

"Something to do with my grandfather needing more goat herders or so I am told."

Chapter Text

"Kara," Margaret "Racetrack" Edmundsen said as she handed the small religious book, "it's not my place to say but… Maybe you should let this go." Someone had to say it. Racetrack didn't consider herself one of Kara's friends, she didn't know anyone who considered themselves one of Kara's friends any more. Lee Adama perhaps, and Sam Anders, but Racetrack felt a loyalty. Kara was one of the few original pilots, one of the few who was assigned to the Galactica when the Cylons had attacked the colonies. There weren't many people left from that time. Someone needed to say something though. "No one really thinks Felix Gaeta is the child of Apollo in the scrolls."

"Yeah, that's why the idiots in Dogville made a shrine in the temple to little Felix," Kara said, her expression cold.

"They are idiots," Racetrack said after a moment. Being one of the lucky ones on board with a Starfleet padd, she had taken the time, when not reading the Lord of the Rings, to look up a few things. Nobody in Starfleet thought Gaeta was a god, and she certainly never heard Felix suggest such a thing. She hadn't particularly liked Gaeta, he had always seemed faintly snobby with no real reason to be. Quick to start kissing Gauis Baltar's ass the moment the opportunity presented itself, and she still hadn't figured out what that was about. It wasn't as though Baltar had ever even seemed to like Gaeta, and he certainly hadn't respected Gaeta. But if Felix had always seemed a little intellectually arrogant, he had also been pleasant and concerned about people, and he certainly never had tried to claim special privilege due to religious prophecy.

And if he had never mentioned being from Earth, she could hardly blame him for that. His little stabbing spree had damn near landed him in the brig, and a lot of people had walked more quietly around him after that. She had thought he was close to the edge and getting worse, his hands shook when they had played cards, and his rack was close enough to hers to know that he didn't sleep well. She would have reported him as crazy if he had told her he was from Earth and part alien besides. " He never said he was a prophet or an oracle, he never even went to temple ceremonies. It's not like he's made any claims, or wants the civilians to make shrines."

"I just wanted something to read while I was guarding Baltar," Kara said with a huff of anger.

" You want to read religious scripture while on guard duty. You, Kara Thrace?"

Kara took the book. " I was going to read it out loud to upset Dr. Baltar. I need to get my amusement from something."

The problem was that it was entirely in character for Kara.

~*~

One of the reasons she had always hated going to the temple, Kara thought darkly as she flipped through the religious text, was how flowery and empty and open to interpretation all of the scrolls were. The Scroll of Apollo was even more of a tease than most, because at first it was a fairly straightforward tale of the destruction of Apollo's followers. Disturbing because of how accurate it was. The people are betrayed by silent, unknown treachery, and demons with fiery weapons kill the multitudes from above. The land was laid waste and the few survivors were put to the road, to find a new land. Grim stuff, and depressing considering how accurate it ended up being, and she could have done without the entire chapter where the dying people lament, complete with descriptions of burning flesh, but for prophecy, it had been very accurate.

What she found truly disturbing in the first section was the illustrations. On every page, in some way, there was a colorful swirling void, just like she had drawn as a child. Just like the one in her dreams, and she didn't understand how she had never noticed the reference.

Her real irritation began with the second part of the prophecy. Or rather, the many prophecies. The unnamed writer of the text had parallel visions, which were confusing to say the least. One was the common story circulating. Apollo sees the plight of the few survivors and sends his child to bring the people to a safe haven. Because she was tired of being called unfair, she read through it and she was willing to admit that Felix Gaeta fit some of the prophecy. He had been torn from his own home, he had lived among the people as one of them. She had to assume he had been carefully observing them, and no matter how one wanted to look at it, Gaeta had been doing the fleet's jump coordinates for years. There was even an argument going around that it had been his jump coordinates that found Kobol. It was easy to see how the people had been taken in. It even ended well. The child of Apollo goes through many trials, hatred from the people, and in the end is saved from judgment of the gods by Athena's child. Athena's child, as near as she could tell, was a fairly typical save in the scripture. Right at the end of the story, when all is lost, out pops someone to save the day.

There were a lot of problems with putting Gaeta in the role of Apollo's child. He wasn't a perfect fit to the prophecy, not at all. The very fact that he wasn't Apollo's son had to be considered. At the same time, it certainly would fool a lot of people and a lot of people in the middle were like Racetrack, with a "who cares" attitude.

It was the other prophecies that really worried her. One went along the same path with Apollo's child rescuing the people, only to be struck by Athena's jealousy. It seemed unlikely except that it clearly stated that Apollo's Arrow was used to strike down the child. The Arrow was actually locked up in a storage locker on the Colonial One and President Roslin was a person who read the scrolls, so it wasn't likely to come out of storage any time soon.

The last prophecy… that was the one that piqued her interest. It said that Apollo's child was merely a claimant, a usurper who had no true connection to any god, let alone Apollo. The usurper professes to lead the people to safety after the grand cataclysm of destruction but only seems to lead them deeper and deeper into trouble. The people wept bitter tears as they fled the burning ashes of the homes they had built, and the usurper secretly smiled with glee, that was the passage she remember each time someone mentioned how Gaeta had saved them. Even that prophecy seemed to go two ways. Either the usurper to the gods damns all the people, or again, Athena's child reveals the usurper, possibly by using the Arrow of Apollo.

Another reason the Arrow of Apollo would be kept under lock and key, of that Kara had no doubt. President Roslin was no fool and she was not going to let anything get in the way of getting a treaty signed.

She looked up at the sound of a tray dropping. "Be quiet in there. Prisoners who can't be quiet can still get their ass beat." She grinned to herself. The Admiral considered guarding Dr. Baltar a type of punishment. She wasn't getting off the man's list for a while, she knew that, but deep down she knew she was getting off light. Taunting Baltar was just the icing on the cake.

~*~

"You still want her, don't you?" Baltar ignored the voice cooing in his ear. For once, he didn't let her distract him. He knew he was close. He felt like a fool for not being able to dredge up the memory, but something about the tray… it was a clue. And he didn't need Six fondling his crotch to help him think.

Because… because she had been away. He had been alone, all alone on New Caprica and… He abruptly pushed her away and took a seat on his prison cot. It was dismally bare in his cell, just like… Just like the sad little hovel Felix Gaeta had lived in on New Caprica…

"Gauis?" Her hands were on him again.

"Leave me alone," he hissed. He closed his eyes and struggled to think. New Caprica had been a nightmare since the first day he set foot on it's wretched soil. People always wanting things, harassing him with requests and questions. The only relief he ever got was from the bottle and pills, and from dumping unwanted tasks off on Felix Gaeta, who had cheerfully taken everything that had been dropped in his lap. Felix had slowly turned from a bright, loyal graduate assistant into an often annoyed taskmaster, but he got things done… except when he hadn't…

~*~

Baltar wanted to scream. Instead, he pulled the doctor out of the small tent that his aide called home. " What do you mean," he said softly but forcefully, " that he might… die? You said it's just flu. Half the bloody colony has the flu." Disgusting really, the way everyone was coughing and hacking, but it was nothing serious.

Cottle looked at him tiredly. "He's burning up with fever. He's not responding to antibiotics. It's like he's never had Tauran flu before."

"But people don't die of the flu," Baltar insisted. He ran a hand through his hair. Felix was the only one who still really listened, who treated him with the respect he deserved. He'd never understood the man's loyalty, but as things turned bad, Baltar had started to value having the younger man in his corner. If Felix died… "What should we do? I'll get more of the drugs from the Admiral."

" It really won't help," Cottle said after a moment. " It's the fever. Have someone stay here and make sure that he's drinking water, and try to keep him cool." The elderly man seemed to relent. "It's serious, President Baltar. But he's young and strong, so if he gets some real rest, and real food, and stays hydrated, it should burn itself out. He could die, but he doesn't have to."

"Of course, of course," Baltar nodded quickly. He snapped his fingers to one of his other assistants. He could never really remember their names. Felix took care of the staffing, and he rarely argued except to make sure that there was a certain level of attractive looks to the staff. It looked bad to have unattractive women in the president's entourage. He looked at the pretty girl and for the first time in a while ignored how sweet she looked. "Mr. Gaeta is very ill. I want you to arrange a schedule so that we have someone here all the time until he's well. Dr. Cottle will give you instructions on what needs to be done." He waited for the girl to move. "What are you waiting for?"

The girl blanched. "You wanted me to watch Mr. Gaeta. If I go…"

Again he wanted to scream. "I will stay with Felix for now. Go do as I say. Now!" The young woman ran off down the muddy street. Baltar waited only until he was certain she was going to the Colonial One and then stalked back into the small tent. He's sick, Baltar mused darkly, because he refused to take a room on the Colonial One.

Felix was still propped up on his cot, looking remarkably flush. Baltar realized suddenly that the man was writing furiously on a notepad. "You need to rest, Felix. The doctor was quite stern about that. No working from bed." He took a seat near the small crate that was acting as a nightstand.

Felix's eyes seemed to bore into him. " I'm sick," he said quietly. "I have the flu. The flu killed millions." He coughed harshly.

"Only Sagiterrons, and that was because they refused the drugs the government offered them," Baltar said quickly. Oh you are not dying on me, he thought harshly. It would take weeks just to convince someone to take the job, and months to train them. "You're going to be fine. You just need to rest, and drink a lot of fluids." And not die.

Felix wiped his forehead. "I'm so hot… I can hardly think…" He closed the notebook, and after a long moment, he held it out. "This is really important, Gauis. This…" He coughed again. "I wrote down everything you would need…"

"Felix, you're going to be fine,"and suddenly Baltar felt a real wave of panic. Felix didn't look fine at all, he looked deathly ill. Deathly ill and worried.

"I can't tell you the truth," Felix said breathlessly. "I know you wouldn't believe me… but you're the only one left who has a chance of understanding." He shoved the notebook into Baltar's unwilling hands. "I calculated the course… If you have to leave this planet… I have the coordinates all the way to Earth but you have to follow them exactly… Do you understand me, Dr. Baltar?"

He's out of his mind with fever, Baltar thought as he took the notebook. A quick look at the first page confirmed it. Meticulous equations, no doubt Felix had slaved for hours. Gibberish of course. " I understand…"

Felix nodded, seeming to relax. He took the notebook back and worriedly flipped it to a series of technical sketches. "I know this is a lot… but if you can find dilithium… I sketched out the old school warp cores… it's primitive but it would leap you ahead of the Cylons… I shouldn't tell you this but if I die… it won't matter and someone has to help you… Promise me you'll look at it…"

"All right… I'll look at it. I promise. But you're not going to die."

~*~

But he hadn't looked, not really. Oh he had looked at the notebook and he had been intrigued at the theories, but he had put it in his filing cabinet within a day. Felix had recovered, and had never mentioned the notebook again, and Baltar had forgotten the whole incident. Being tortured by Cylons had a way of making things slip one's mind.

And then Felix had somehow…been from Earth all along. From Earth and apparently filled to the brim with unique scientific knowledge. Knowledge that his oath as an officer, as a Starfleet officer, enjoined him from sharing.

Knowledge was power. It was the first real lesson Gauis Baltar had ever learned, and he realized suddenly that power was back in his grasp. He smiled suddenly. Kara Thrace was guarding him and he had been paying a lot of attention to the scuttlebutt between the guards. Thrace was not in the admiral's good graces since the old man had finally found out just what she and her cohorts had done to Gaeta. As if it was unexpected, he thought with a sniff of disgust. The Admiral had always been a fool when it came to Thrace. But that wasn't why he was pleased. The rumors suggested that she was none too pleased with the sudden change in her status, from hero pilot to one of the people who almost damned them all.

"It's finally dawned on you," the apparition of Six muttered. She stepped in front of him, almost glaring at him. "He trusted you, Gauis, with his secret… and then he attacked you, and now he's a hero." She licked her lips. "I wonder… I can't imagine his superiors would be pleased to know that he told you, of all people, the secrets of their technology."

Despite himself, he nodded. The problem, the real problem, wasn't that he could get Felix Gaeta into serious trouble, it was whether it was worth bothering. He didn't see how it gained him anything. Unless….

"Captain Thrace, a word if you don't mind," he called. He stepped over to the bars. Thrace barely looked up, her expression surly. He didn't let it deter him. "I had a little request."

"I'm guarding you. Not that a frakking piece of cowardly garbage like you could escape." She sneered at him. "I'm guarding you so that you don't get killed. But don't worry, I'm sure there's a much nicer jail cell in your future."

"And maybe yours as well. I assume attempted murder of a Starfleet officer is a crime in the Federation." He knew she was already off the hook, but Kara Thrace had a huge ego and he wasn't afraid to play to that.

She smirked at him. "I'm already off the hook. President Roslin's pardon is legal. No one goes to jail for killing collaborators." She started to walk back to the guard desk.

"It hardly chases the stain away though." He was pleased to see that stop her in her tracks, although he was careful not to show it. He gripped the bars. "In this new colony, you know you'll always be one of those stupid people who almost killed the savior of our people. What is it they're calling him? The child of Apollo? A man-god walking among us."

That cut her to the quick. He could see the anger flashing in her eyes. "He's not a god," she snarled. "He's not even a human being, and that's not a rumor."

He didn't react. That had made the rounds in the brig as well and he'd already made his peace with it. It just wouldn't help him at all to sit down and explain to Kara Thrace that the Cylons had always assumed the human gods were false and Felix Gaeta's ancestry proved it. "He's lying, you know. Not just about who he really was."

"What do you mean?" Her tone suggested that it had better be good.

"He told me. He told me everything. He even drew up plans for me." If he had the notebook, he could prove it, and the notebook was in his files and the files had been moved back to the lab on the Galactica. The plan he had wasn't to get Felix in trouble, although he certainly didn't mind the pleasant reality that Gaeta would no doubt be in serious trouble. What the stupid sheep running the colonial government failed to realize was that shy, pleasant and unassuming Mr. Gaeta was from a fairly prominent family. Cmdr. Riker, in the big question and answer session with Roslin, had let slip a number of details that pointed to that. Felix's mother was a retired admiral, his grandmother some sort of Starfleet hero, his father a prominent professor, and sisters in Starfleet as well. And he had been missing for ten years. His family wasn't going to allow him to be smeared as a traitor, and revealing secret technology to primitives was rather high on the list of Federation taboos. With nothing else to do but sit, Baltar had spend a lot of time listening to the guards and to the wireless broadcasts and reading the Federation offer. He could see how the wind was blowing for Gaeta. Starfleet and the Federation were salivating over the FTL drive, so even if Gaeta had already confessed the transgression, and he might have, because that was just how naïve and honorable the man was, his superiors were happy to wink it away. As long as there was no proof. The notebook was proof, and it could be a bargaining tool. He didn't plan to be greedy. A safe place to live, not a jail cell, on one of the many settled worlds. A job, an academic job, he was brilliant after all. His silence had to be worth that much to Gaeta's family. He could just start yelling it when the next Starfleet officer came by, but the notebook was evidence and he knew as soon as the Starfleet captain asked for it that Adama or Roslin would see to it that it disappeared.

They were spiteful that way.

Thrace eyed him carefully. "Gaeta told you." She seemed to consider it. "He's dumb enough to have trusted you. So what? He told you, and you both did nothing to save us on New Caprica. You might want to keep that to yourself if you want to stay alive. Until that treaty is signed, the president can still have you thrown out an airlock."

She was interested though. He could tell. She didn't move away from the bars. " I can prove it," he said quickly. "In the lab, they moved my files of scientific research. Felix gave me a notebook, it's in the files. It's filled with drawings and mathematical equations."

"And you still did nothing."

"He was going crazy on New Caprica. You don't know, he kept it hidden but he was violent to me." A lie of course, but he had to test it out. Gaeta most likely didn't appear psychotic to anyone but a story of violence behind the scenes, coupled with the attack Felix had made on him in front of witnesses. "At times I was afraid of him but he kept the drug and liquor supply flowing and I… just ignored it. I didn't believe him and I thought he could be dangerous…"

Thrace seemed to consider it. "So you want me to get this notebook and get Gaeta into trouble?"

"A little dirt on his reputation might help your little campaign," Baltar said easily. "It can't be easy getting many people on your side these days. Not after you tried to kill the child of Apollo."

Her eyes flashed again. "What's in this for you? It's not like anyone is going to set you free because Gaeta lied again."

Baltar kept the grin off his face. She was considering it. "He did stab me. He wanted me dead. I owe him for that."

Kara eyed him. Then she laughed. " Gods, you think I'm dumb. I'm already in hack with the Admiral, and I hate you. I'm pretty pissed off with Gaeta, but you know what?" She stepped up close to the jail bars and licked her lips. "I'd frak him in front of you if I thought for a minute that it would piss you off. And I know you're lying. Gaeta's problem with you? Was that he respected you, and you treated him like garbage, and then when he finally wised up, you tried to accuse him of being a Cylon. If there really is a notebook, you want it because you think it can help you get something. We might not be able to give you the slow execution traitorous crap like you deserve, but the gods will damn me to hell for helping you do anything other than rot in a jail cell for the rest of your life." She spit in his face and then stomped back to the guard table.

"That went well," Six chimed as he wiped off his face.

"Shut up," he hissed. It was disappointing, but only a little. The next time a Starfleet officer toured the brig, he had a story for them. And Kara Thrace would be in even more trouble.

Chapter Text

"Wow…you're not just pretty," Serena said, just a touch breathless. "You can do things with that marvelous body too. Good. I like that."

Lee chuckled as he held her. "I'm glad you weren't disappointed." Serena was more than just good, she rivaled Kara at wild frakking. She had cheerfully suggested a post breakfast tryst and with no plans or requirements until later in the day, he had taken her up on the offer. She was very beautiful after all, and interesting. And… It wasn't as though he'd had a beautiful, smart woman want to be with him recently. Dee had gone back to sleeping in her rack months earlier but he hadn't exactly announced himself to be free for a new partner and neither had she. People felt free to have assignations but most of the women he liked had married or had steady partners and it caused too many problems with discipline besides. There were civilian women of course, but he could never really shake the feeling that they wanted something from him, not just be with him. Favors, the social standing of dating someone in the military, dating the Admiral's son, it was all a possibility and he didn't like having to worry about it. "I don't get out much."

She batted him playfully. "I doubt that. Listen, there's nothing I'd like more than to spend the day here getting an up close and personal view of the citizens of the Twelve Colonies," she looked at him and smiled secretively, "or at least one particular citizen, but sadly I have things I need to do."

"I thought you were just a guest reporter, doing a story," he said as she slid out of the bed and stretched. It was easy to stare in appreciation at Serena. She was lovely, and her nude body was lithe and well shaped, and she seemed to delight in moving so that he could see how her long dark blonde hair cascaded around her breasts.

"I am," she said, as she turned to look at him, "but I'm also technically a reserve Starfleet officer and I have advanced degrees in anthropology, focusing on Hellenic culture. So I have been pressed to service, to help folks see where all the lines connect. Captain Picard asked me to look at some of the religious texts of your people and see if we can avoid any giant mishaps. Like for example, publicly announcing that the gods of your people might have just been Pollux 4 life forms? Maybe wasn't such a good idea."

"I believe Cmdr. Riker needed to say something. It was already going around. One of your people apparently let it slip in our bar." Lee smiled at that. It was nice to know that Starfleet officers weren't infallible.

Serena sniffed in disgust. "Yeah, trust me, that idiot has had his last promotion. Listen, I also need to meet Felix in a little while for lunch. You should join us. It'll make him squirm."

"I don't know," he said carefully. He had been going back and forth from being mad at Felix Gaeta to feeling sorry for him, and he had learned enough about Earth and Starfleet culture to wonder if frakking Gaeta's sister within a few hours of meeting her wasn't some sort of insult. Or if Gaeta would interpret it as petty revenge for the fact that the man obviously slept with Dee the night before. "The truth is that I don't know your brother that well. I was picked as an exchange officer because the Admiral knew I wouldn't be… unpleasant about things that can't be changed." And he was pretty much over the technological issue. He could read, and he had access, and it took just a little bit of reading to see that Gaeta wasn't lying about not being able to replicate the tech on his own. Lee wasn't sure what dilithium was, but it was apparently the energy source that made Federation technology possible. There had never been anything like it found in the colonies, he was certain of that, because it would have been used. It wasn't like Gaeta had ever been in a position to present such ideas anyway. Sure, he was a fleet officer but he was without family or background or education and on Caprica that meant he had been very lucky to get as far as he had. It wasn't until Dr. Baltar had needed an assistant that Gaeta had stood out, and then he had always been careful to present his ideas through Baltar.

Because, Lee realized suddenly, Dr. Gauis Baltar was genuinely a scientific genius and could present technical ideas that an orphan with little education couldn't. He grinned suddenly. He had always disliked how Gaeta fawned over Baltar, because it seemed obvious to everyone but Gaeta that Baltar considered him nothing but a lackey. Felix Gaeta was perhaps naïve and overly honorable, but Lee was beginning to see Kara's point about him. Naïve and honorable, and one hell of a manipulator behind the scenes. "It occurs to me that I barely know Felix."

Serena grinned. "It never occurred to you that he was a sneaky bastard, did it? Quiet, shy, unassuming…. Just a nice guy who somehow always manages to be right in the middle of things and yet not. It's not one of his nicer character traits, being a weasel in a puppy dog's clothes, but I suspect it's what kept him alive these last few years." She grinned. "You look surprised."

"I'm surprised you're so… honest." Lee said after a moment. "Considering how long he's been gone and how affectionate you are." It hadn't escaped him at breakfast that both Sophia and Serena had barely been able to contain their glee. Spontaneous hugs and handholding, and they had ordered for him and delighted in watching him eat.

Serena grinned again as she brushed her hair. "Lee, I love my brother. If I thought for a minute you were involved in this merry little lynch mob that tried to murder him, I would have killed you myself. Felix is my brother, and we grew up together, but he is not perfect by any means. He's a good person, I know that, but I also know he can put that pretty face and nice façade out and trick you just like that. Believe me, he wouldn't say I was perfect either."

"What would he say," Lee asked. He was curious if she would be that open.

"That I have a temper, that I can get jealous and take teasing too far. That I was a wild child and always got to do what I wanted, while he was always stuck on display as the male heir." Serena said easily. "Ironically, I'm probably the only one in the family that hasn't mastered that inner seething look. You know," and she did a masterful impression of Felix, "that look that says deep down I am so angry I am literally eating my own anger and secretly want to kill you look? Now, I need to shower, and you need to reconsider joining us for lunch. Trust me, it'll be fun." She went into the small bathroom.

Lee began to get dressed. Serena was an intriguing woman and he wasn't against getting to know her better, but she definitely moved quickly. After a moment, he smiled ruefully. It was beginning to feel good to worry about something as silly as relationships and dating. It felt so… normal.

He looked up when the door chimed. "Come in," he said, marveling again at how easy it was to get used to the convenience. Voice activation was not going to be popular with many colonists, but it was growing on him.

Much to his surprise, Felix Gaeta stepped into his quarters, looking rather hesitant if nicely attired in civilian clothes. "Major Adama," he said, "I was hoping I could ask you for a small favor."

"A favor? What kind of favor?" It wasn't like there was much Gaeta could ask for. And Lee was suddenly aware that even a dullard could tell that there was a guest in his quarters. The sonic shower was quiet but obvious, as was the fact that Serena's clothes were littered about the floor. And he was just wearing his pants. " Uh…."

Gaeta seemed to ignore it. "I was working on a project… just satisfying my own curiosity and I was hoping that you would look at a holodeck program I wrote. I never saw the Temple of Athena in person, so I had work from my memory of the photos you and the others took. I'd appreciate it if you could take a look at the program and make sure that it is accurate."

Something tedious and technical, Lee had no doubt about that, but it wasn't as though his schedule was incredibly full. Captain Picard wanted to talk to the three exchange officers sometime later in the first shift about protocol. He was otherwise free until then. And it wasn't like Gaeta was asking him to volunteer for a suicide mission. He hadn't been particularly nice to the man the last few days either. "Sure, Felix. Can you give me a minute to get dressed?" Because hopefully if he got Felix out of the room, certain awkward things could be avoided.

Serena stepped out of the small bathroom, wearing nothing but a towel. "Hey Felix," she said, smiling broadly.

Gaeta smiled back. "Well, this saves me a trip to your quarters, Serena. Lee is going to help me with a project in the holodeck and I was planning to ask you as well."

"A project? What kind of project? A secret project?" Serena sounded amused.

"Not a secret," Gaeta said easily. "I'm just… satisfying my curiosity and wondering just how much connection there was between Earth and Kobol. Remember those old books Dad would show us whenever he wanted to make a point about decent research?"

"The alien astronaut guy, right." Serena made a scoffing noise. "And since when did you become an archaeologist?"

"I could be wrong," Gaeta admitted easily. "But there's a lot of obvious similarities beyond the religion and that indicates that there was some back and forth transmission. Too many similar legends and place names for example. And…"

Serena looked expectant. "And?"

"You've read Plato. A city built with concentric circles outward, a perfect place where everyone lived in harmony until it was struck down by an unimaginable crisis. The City of the Gods on Kobol is very similar to some descriptions…" Gaeta shrugged.

"Well, now I can't turn that down. Why don't you let Lee and I get dressed and we'll join you?" With that, she sauntered into the small bedroom, leaving Lee with Felix.

"We should be ready in a minute," Lee said awkwardly. "You know…"

Gaeta waved his hand dismissively. "We're even." He chuckled. "I'm honestly shocked she even bothered to put a towel on. She must be treading lightly since I'm two steps away from a breakdown." His jocularity seemed completely off to Lee. Forced, like he was trying very hard to be a good sport, and oddly Lee didn't think Serena had upset him. He didn't know Gaeta well, he had been completely honest about that, but the man had never seemed the type to be into self depreciating humor. It was odd.

"Are you all right?" he asked. If anything he felt even more awkward.

Gaeta smiled slightly. " I am fantastic, Lee."

Lee nodded but felt something odd twist inside him. He had seen that sort of look before, almost always from pilots who had burned out on the inside. "Are you sure?"

"I am. Why do you look so worried? We've found Earth." Gaeta stepped over to the door. " It's time to let the good times roll." He opened the door and left.

Creepy, Lee thought suddenly. Gaeta hadn't even tried to seem happy just days earlier. It was like being around a different, much more outgoing man, except that the good cheer didn't seem to reach Gaeta's eyes at all. A problem, in other words.

Chapter Text

Gaeta took a deep breath and then let it out. Holodecks were easy for him to use. Child's play really. It had been his ability to manipulate holodeck programming as a child of four that had made his parents realize that he was going to be much different than his sisters. They had expected him to have the same gifts as his sisters and when those talents, the telepathy in particular, hadn't manifested, he knew that they had worried. They had worried about a lot of things, that he would feel left out, that he had missed out on the genetic boost.

Holodecks reminded him of worried looks and fears and it was one reason he didn't care for the things. The other reason, the one he was trying to ignore was the low grade buzzing sensation it always brought on. He could use a holodeck for fun, but if he stayed in one for too long, he ended up with a headache, a bad temper, and clenched muscles. But there weren't many people on the Enterprise who would know that. Just Serena and perhaps Dr. Crusher, and Serena was the only one likely to say something. She was watching him, he was certain of that, but he was also certain that the program was about to distract her.

"From the pictures you took, Lee, this is a program of the chamber of Athena's Tomb." He flicked the controls and the yellow lines of the hologram dissolved, replaced by the stone walls of the tomb. " Of course, the Arrow of Apollo wasn't on the floor."

Lee smiled as he picked up the arrow. " Kara had the arrow." He stepped over to the statue of Sagittarius. "You did this from photographs?" He snapped his fingers suddenly. "You have a photographic memory… That's why this looks so real."

"Well, little brother is actually a wonder with holodeck programs," Serena said. To Felix she added, "Dad submitted a lot of your programs to the heritage site listings, and they all got accepted. It's just a thought, but the Geographic wouldn't mind having your talents on board, Felix."

" They're just programs," Felix said uneasily. It was a compliment, and one he'd gotten before, along with offers, but it seemed like a frivolous sort of job. Of course, he thought suddenly, it wasn't as though the career in Starfleet, or the career in the colonial fleet had done all that well.

"I don't see how a dirty cave with a statue is an earth shattering revelation of Atlantis though," Serena added after a moment.

"Atlantis?" Lee looked at her and then at Felix. "That's just a story from the scrolls. The City of the Gods, it's another name for the City of the Gods."

Serena's eyes sparkled with glee. "That may be, Lee, but it's also a story on Earth. The very fact that your City of the Gods was called Atlantis indicates that there has to have been some interaction between Kobol and Earth at a time when Earth… was essentially populated by nothing but jumped up hunter gatherers. And there are a lot of indicators that there's been interaction. The Achaean culture for starters. We did worship the same gods for a long time."

"And," Lee said, his expression growing more confident. "The City of the Gods is real. We know that. So where are you going with this?"

"According to colonial scrolls," Felix said, "The first colony to leave Kobol was Earth and they left almost two thousand years before the other colonies. The other colonies left Kobol about two thousand years ago which means the 13th colony would have arrived on Earth about four thousand years ago…" He let Serena think about it.

"That is about the time of the destruction of Atlantis, per Plato." Serena began ticking off points on her fingers. "And the flood myth of Sumeria, and a variety of legends where a bringer of technology arrives from the water and creates an explosion of culture. Oh that is interesting."

"The Atlantis story on Earth is always linked with Poseidon," Felix said to Lee. "In the Twelve Colonies, Poseidon isn't one of the major gods, and the destruction of the City of the Gods is through war, but on Earth, Atlantis sank beneath the waves ."

"And the 13th colony was never heard from." Lee added. "It falls out of the legends. It's Athena that's important in the Exodus of Kobol."

After a moment, Serena shrugged. "It's interesting, and the fodder for a good paper, but in the end, we're still looking at a statue in a dirty tomb."

"It's not what it looks like though," Lee said. He stepped over to the statue, and gave Felix a knowing look. "The Arrow is the key that opens the Tomb." He put the arrow on the statue. The tomb suddenly wavered and was replaced by a circle of stones, lit by the night sky above. Lee grinned as he looked. "I can't believe you did this with remembered pictures. This looks exactly like it did."

"It's good thing you took the pictures," Felix said after a moment. Everyone would know eventually, and there was no longer any reason to keep things a secret. "I used this star map to get us here. I knew the general direction but I needed exact reference points between Kobol and Earth. I do have a photographic memory so I can remember Starfleet star charts but I needed a way to link it to known space in the colonies."

"So the president's vision was right," Lee said softly. "We had to go to Kobol. I remember… Kara said this was Earth. A place on Earth, that we were standing on Earth looking up. It is, isn't it?"

"I think so," Serena answered for him. She looked at the stones with the glowing symbols and traced one with her hand. "These are the constellations of the Zodiac. Which makes sense…" She turned to look at Felix. "I know what you're thinking but it feels off. The stone circle, it's not right."

"What?" Lee asked, puzzled.

"I imagine," Felix said softly, "That this is what it looked like when it was first made. The star patterns may even have been etched on the stones, but four thousand years can bring a lot of change. Computer, age the site and slowly add in the new formations." The computer complied. The stones grew rougher and lost their freshly quarried appearance. New stones appeared in familiar spots, and some stones tipped or were completely removed. "It is a place on Earth, Lee. It's a very famous place, called Stonehenge."

Serena whooped in delight. "It wasn't a calendar! And it wasn't built by Druids! This is going to blow the minds off the historians. If you're right, Felix, then Atlantis was real, it just wasn't on Earth. Which was why we could never find it. And we have legends of Atlantis being taken by water or sinking into the water… The spaceship the 13th colonists used…" She laughed. "This is exactly the worst sort of sloppy research. We'll need people to look at this carefully. The first thing that comes to my mind is that it marks Kobol as a Preserver created world. The 13th colony may have brought the religion to Earth…. The Hellenic culture may have been a recreation of Kobol's religion, and not the other way around. The survivors must have been dispersed to different places so the story got garbled. A place like this," and she pointed to the stones that had been added in, "It was originally a beacon but over time people forgot why, and started adding new things. Have you tried dating?"

"Not really. Like I said, it's not my field." Felix shrugged. "I think the outer circle was built before… the 13th colonists may have reused the site. I could be wrong, but if this is an accurate representation of Athena's Tomb then Athena's Tomb is a link to Stonehenge."

"And someone had holodeck like technology 4000 years ago." Serena's tone became more analytical. "Lee, what is the basis here? The story from the scroll?"

"It's in the Pythian Prophecy, that the Arrow will unlock the Tomb of Athena." Lee looked over the aged stone circle and seemed to shudder. "The scrolls said that the Tomb would reveal the way to Earth. Apparently it did."

"Still… it seems too simple. And too likely to fail." Serena said, her voice thoughtful. "You said this Kara Thrace was the one who put the Arrow in place. Anything special about her? Aside from how she tried to kill you, Felix?"

He sighed. "Can you let it go?" he said quietly. "It happened over a year ago. She was raped and tortured, and she wanted to hurt the first person she saw…" His voice trailed off. He was tired of it. "She lost it and tried to kill me. She thought I deserved it. You know what? I lost it and I stabbed a man in the neck, because I thought he deserved it. How is that different?"

Serena was about to say something when Lee stepped forward. "The difference," Lee said carefully, "is that Dr. Baltar was guilty of collaborating, and you weren't. But…" and he looked at Serena. "the Cylons have always been interested in Kara. She was the one who went back to Caprica and she was captured and experimented on. And on New Caprica, they had her locked up in the prison they made the whole time. Leoben was obsessed with her. It… damaged her."

"Wait…What if it was Kara?" Felix tried to think. The colonists had what science called Palamas indicaters. He had known that, and that it was likely that the colonial people had closer and longer contact with Pollux life forms. But Sophia had said his talent wasn't sex linked, that her daughter had his gifts, possibly because she had married a man who had indicators… "Kara flew the Cylon Raider. She did it instinctively… She would have died if she hadn't figured out how to make it work. Lee, I know you've already figured out that Starfleet is dancing around the fact that people in the fleet have Palamas genetic indicators. Kara Thrace is like a throwback… I've read the scrolls. What if the Arrow is just a flowery way of saying it's a particular genetic code?"

Because it had always seemed too easy, and almost too quaint and ridiculous that putting the Arrow on the statue opened the tomb.

"Interesting…" Serena began to say, but the whoop of the Enterprise's red alert began to sound. "Damn… we were just started with interesting stuff and of course there's a red alert."

"Do you think it's the Cylons again?" Lee asked as the program shut down.

"You hope it's the Cylons," Serena said. "We're too close to Romulan space for my taste."

And that, Felix realized with relief, meant that he would soon be sent back to the Galactica, regardless of whether it was Cylons or Romulans. The fleet needed its jump capacity back. He hoped it wouldn't take too long.

Chapter Text

Captain Picard looked at the sensor scans and began to worry. Not about the Cylon ship, what the colonials called a heavy raider, but the potential political problem it was about to bring. The Federation had the right to talk to whomever it wanted, but he doubted that either the colonial people or the Cylons were mature enough to see that. He had a suspicion that something very unusual was going on with the Cylons. The report from Dr. Crusher on the nature of the Cylons the colonials referred to as "skin jobs" was fascinating reading and it confirmed some of his own theories. Something or someone was controlling the Cylons, orchestrating their society and manipulating them. They weren't a martial threat, at least not yet, but they had potential.

The bigger issue was how the colonial fleet would react. There wasn't much they could do, that was the truth, but he wanted to keep both sides calm. It made for easier negotiations if the colonial people weren't screaming in terror. Plus, the Federation didn't need an enemy that could only be reached by threading a needle through Romulan space. He wouldn't say it out loud because too many of the colonials would take it the wrong way, but Felix Gaeta had worked a miracle of navigation. One wrong step and the Romulans would have given the colonial fleet a very unpleasant first contact. The problem was that the Romulans were surely aware of the large fleet of ships circling around their territory, and it was only a matter of time untill they decided to capture some specimens for study. Two fleets gave them plenty to choose from, and the Cylon fleet was much more likely to trip over a border. With the biological Cylons being essentially cybernetic humans, that could lead to the Romulans declaring that there had been a treaty violation if there had been a misstep.

The Federation really didn't need a war with the Romulans.

" Hail the Galactica," he said to the communication officer. "Admiral Adama, I appreciate that you have not launched your fighters," he began. The Galactica was bristling its many rail guns and Picard had no doubt that the fighter pilots were awaiting orders, but considering what they had been through, the colonials were showing remarkable restraint.

"If it comes much closer," Adama's voice warned, " it will get a reception. However, I assume they're here to talk to you."

Picard smiled slightly. Bill Adama was a tough bastard, but he wasn't an inflexible man. It was probably something that had saved his life. "Please assure your people that we have no intention of allowing any harm to come to the fleet. The Enterprise is going to meet the ship, and the Tom Dooley will take up a position to defend the fleet as well." A runabout with light phasers would be more than enough but Adama was sharp enough to know that. "If they want to talk, I plan to invite them to the Enterprise."

A ship the size of the heavy raider could easily land on the Enterprise's deck, and Picard wasn't willing to show the Cylons the wonder of matter transport until some ground rules were set. The colonial people were paranoid on the topic of Cylons, but after reading their reports with dispassionate eyes, Picard knew he wasn't dealing with kittens. The Cylons may have been oppressed slaves, but that didn't excuse an act of genocide. He agreed with the assessment Gaeta had made earlier, that the Cylons would only come to the table if they had to. Which meant they were badly frightened by their losses. It also meant that he had to be very careful. The colonial people were religious in the sense that they had been shattered and simply had nothing else to hold onto. The Cylons in contrast seemed to have fanatic tendencies.

"That's your decision," Adama said carefully. "They are prone to suicide attacks and I wouldn't recommend letting them at your computers."

"With your permission, I would like your exchange officers to attend any talks." It was good manners to ask, and Picard sensed that underneath the stony façade, Bill Adama was deeply concerned. "To observe and to make sure that the colonial viewpoint is represented."

"I have no issue with that," Adama said after a moment. "With some conditions. The exchange officers are just that. They do not have the power to make decisions for the colonial government."

"That seems very reasonable," Picard said.

"Good. I recommend that your people be armed and alert for anything." Picard almost smiled at the command in the man's voice.

"I will keep you advised. Be assured that we will not allow any military action against your fleet." Of course they wouldn't be allowing the colonials to attack the Cylons either, but he saw no need to be that confrontational. The truth was that the Enterprise was the ship taking the risk.

He cut off communication and turned his attention to the Cylon ship. "Mr. Data, has the Cylon ship made a move?"

"No sir." Data looked at him. "It appears to be waiting for us."

"Good. Let's begin our approach and open a hailing frequency." He waited while the contact was established. "Cylon ship, this is Captain Picard of the Enterprise. Be advised that you are not to move any closer to the colonial fleet and that any hostile action will result in your being fired upon."

After a moment, a sultry low female voice responded. "That is understood. We wish to engage in truce talks. Your weapons are… concerning."

"I am willing to engage in talks on behalf of the United Federation of Planets. You will land your ship in our shuttle bay. The Federation has no wish to harm you, but we will defend ourselves if talks are marred by violence. Any attempts at computer sabotage will be considered acts of war." Picard spoke carefully. By all reports, the Cylons were well versed in scheming and taking advantage. Talking was fine, and he preferred a peaceful resolution, but he wasn't going to allow his ship to become a victim to the Cylons preferred weapon.

"We will land shortly," the female said curtly, and then broke off communication.

"They're scared," Troi said as she came up beside him. Her expression grew concerned. "They're more than just frightened by our fire power. There's more going on than we think."

Picard nodded. He had a feeling that the Cylons were full of surprises.

~*~

"I need to ask you a question, Mr. Gaeta." Data had made a point of avoiding the man since he had been brought on board but with the Cylons arriving for talks, there was a point where the ship and its needs trumped Gaeta's post traumatic stress over robots.

Gaeta looked at him and then gestured for him to enter his quarters. "I don't have a lot of time… I need to finish dressing. For the meeting with the Cylons."

"Yes. This will not delay you." Humans often puzzled Data and Gaeta was no exception. It would save time if Gaeta would change from his civilian attire while speaking and listening. Humans were capable of such feats. Data had seen it done. Instead, Gaeta was looking at him with annoyance and crossed arms. Possibly a privacy concern, although Data doubted it. He was anatomically male, and Gaeta had spent many years undressing in mixed company. It was most likely a prejudice. It was quite obvious that Gaeta, and the exchange officers, were uncomfortable in his presence. He found it odd and unexplainable as he was quite different in appearance than the Cylons they feared, but he had learned that humans were often ruled by their fears. "Are the Cylon Centurions sentient?"

Gaeta's expression changed from irritation to suspicious interest. "I think so… The original Centurions had to be. There had to be some form of sentience for the original Centurions to revolt, and that was forty years ago. The biologically based Cylons are a very recent addition."

"But they appear to control all of Cylon society." Data pressed. He expected organic life to behave in irrational ways. Emotion led to chaos, and to creative leaps, and he accepted the necessity of emotion in the creative process. But there were positives to having a positronic brain that allowed him to look at the situation without emotions clouding his judgment the way Felix Gaeta's otherwise excellent analytical skills were being clouded. "The Cylons revolted against slave conditions. It does not seem logical that they would design themselves new masters, and we know they didn't. The biological Cylons are not artificial life forms at all."

"More like cyborgs," Gaeta agreed after a moment. "It is odd. I mean… The biological Cylons are ideal spies. It was incredibly chaotic early on because we didn't know what they looked like and there was never a quick way to identify them. But the Cylons like Sharon and Six, and all the others really do consider themselves Cylons. And they do order the Centurions around like the Centurions can't disobey." He shrugged. "I could be wrong. To me, it always seemed like the Centurions were interconnected, independent but linked, like a net of minds hiving together. That's one reason I never tried to seriously control one. They're not simple, and the more complex a system is, the more difficult it is to control. Maybe they aren't sentient. I know Sharon seems to think they aren't." He shrugged again. "I don't know. I don't know how they could lose control so easily. One Centurion is formidable."

"Perhaps they did not lose control," Data said. Gaeta's comments confirmed the theory he had been forming since Dr. Crusher's discovery of the nature of the biological Cylons. "Dr. Crusher believes that the biological Cylons have been manipulated by design. The sterility, coupled with religious commands to breed…. She believes that it is a control technique, and I agree."

He could see the concept hit Gaeta like a brick. The man seemed to be struggling to accept the idea. Data waited patiently. It was not unusual for new ideas to upset humans. Particularly when the new idea was unpleasant. "That means… Six, Cavil… they're nothing but puppets. Puppets being controlled through religion by the Cylon Centurions. It's… almost perfect, Mr. Data. They've been using human beings to hunt and destroy human beings."

"I believe this is what humans call irony," Data said easily.

Chapter Text

Lee tugged at his uniform nervously. In retrospect, his father had made excellent choices in who the exchange officers would be. They hadn't planned on having a sort of summit meeting with the Cylons, but there weren't many people Lee would have preferred to have with him. In a fight, he wanted Kara by his side, but in a meeting with Cylons, Kara would most likely be the one to start a fight.

He was glad that he had Helo, and Dee, and even Sharon with him. It had not escaped him at all that how Sharon was treated, both in the past on the Galactica and by the exchange officers now, was being observed and noted by the people in Starfleet and he was glad that the more notable bigots in the crew weren't there. "Remember," he said quietly to Helo, Sharon, and Dee, "We're just observing."

They all nodded. He rechecked everyone's uniforms and noted with good humor that the Starfleet greeting party was doing the same thing. He was surprised that Gaeta wasn't there. Captain Picard was a much more laid back man than the military commanders he had known, including his father, but he couldn't believe that Picard could resist using the shock of Gaeta's origins as a tool in negotiation.

As he thought it, Gaeta rushed into the shuttle bay, looking red faced and upset, with the second officer Data right behind him. Both went right to Picard and Lee watched with interest as they both spoke, Gaeta excitedly and Data more sedately. Whatever the two were saying, Picard found it interesting and concerning. Lee could tell. What surprised him was that the older man gestured for him to join the small conference.

"We may have a small problem, Maj. Adama." Picard spoke softly and concisely. "There is a possibility that the threat from the Cylons may not be what we think. We know that the biologically based Cylons believe the Centurions are not sentient but there is some evidence that the opposite is the truth. How likely is it that this heavy raider will have Centurions aboard?"

Lee suspected Picard already knew the answer. "Heavy raiders usually have at least two Centurions. It's possible that there are more, but two is usual. Centurions are extremely dangerous and they don't need someone watching over them." That wasn't what Picard meant by sentience but Lee didn't care. He knew what Picard was really asking. "They're more dangerous. If they decide to start shooting… you'll want security teams here."

The security people on the Enterprise were good. Part of the orientation had involved demonstrations and the weapons and training those teams had impressed Lee. He glanced around the landing bay. The catwalks were good defensive positions and he suspected that the various loading bays could be locked down.

"We know," Gaeta said quickly, " that biological Cylons can't link into a computer system without physical contact, but Centurions must have scanning and transmitting capabilities, if only to communicate with each other. The Cylons use a completely different system so they would not be able to just plug in and take over, which means they would need buy time. They could do that by attacking. The landing bay can be physically isolated, they wouldn't be able to access the rest of the ship. You can request that the Centurions stay aboard the heavy raider or stand guard here. The Cylons will assume that the colonials have warned you about how violent Centurions can be."

"A sensible precaution," Picard said. To Data, he said, " I want all unnecessary personnel removed, and inform Cmdr. LaForge that the landing bay systems are to be completely isolated from the rest of the ship's system. Make sure that security is on standby force fields and containment fields. The Borg security protocols will be set. There will be no rampaging killer robots on this ship. I also want the conference room and the hallways leading to the conference room isolated. Put all of the security force on alert and distribute phasers to all personnel." Data went to one of the many communication panels immediately. Picard turned his attention back to Gaeta. " Could you control two or more Centurions, Mr. Gaeta?"

His tone almost made Lee smile, because it reminded him suddenly of Bill Adama. Jean-Luc Picard was smoother than his father, but he had the same steel, of that Lee was certain.

"No," Gaeta said quickly. His voice took on a steely edge as well. "One yes, but I would need to be physically close. I've never tried two at the same time. Maybe it's possible but I wouldn't stake anyone's life on it."

"Then we'll have some back up. Just in case." Picard turned his attention back to Lee. "Major Adama, you're not under my command. I know you have experience but I can only ask if you'll stay here in the landing bay instead of attending the conference."

"Of course." Lee said it easily. "But… I'm missing something. We've warned you that the Centurions are dangerous."

"Biological Cylons are human clones," Gaeta said quickly. "They believe the Centurions are under their control. We think the Centurions are the ones who are actually in control and the biocylons are their pawns."

And that was a lot of information to accept but it made perfect sense to Lee. Cylons were robots, they always had been. The human formed Cylons were different and Lee understood suddenly why Picard was worried. The Centurions were running the show and the biological Cylons were as duped as everyone else, and they weren't likely to handle things well. And neither were the Centurions. He was already fairly certain the Cylons were offering to talk only to gather intelligence about the new threat so he didn't have a lot of sympathy for them. "Let's be ready then."

It was impressive, how quickly the crew exchanged places, and how discreet they were about the small hand held phasers.

"What's going on?" Helo asked. "Everything just got more tense." Helo's eyes flicked upwards at the security people on the catwalk.

"Suddenly they're worried about Centurions," Lee said easily. "Listen, the captain asked me to stay here, to keep an eye on things. You three are still going to the conference. You're in command, Helo, and if any of the Cylons so much as look cross eyed at the Starfleet people, open fire. The treaty isn't signed but these people are allies. Understood?"

"Yes sir." Helo said calmly. Dee and Sharon nodded as well, and he let that worry subside. The very last thing he wanted was for something to happen to the Federation people on his watch. He trusted all three, and he wasn't worried about missing the conference. The Federation was a bureaucracy and he had seen them in action enough to know that the Cylons were not going to be offered a treaty to sign. At least not yet. Picard didn't strike Lee as the sort to double cross the colonial people either, so not attending the conference personally didn't concern him. What did concern him was the implications. The Cylons had been Centurion styled first, and he had wondered just what had happened that had led the human formed Cylons to take over.

It made a wicked sort of sense that the human formed Cylons hadn't taken over. Particularly if Helo was telling the truth about Sharon, that the Enterprise doctor could prove that the biological Cylons were human clones. It meant that the human formed Cylons were about to get a shock. And the Centurions were about to be revealed and he realized suddenly just why Picard was suddenly so cautious. No matter whether the human formed Cylons wanted to talk or not, the Centurions had an agenda, an agenda that had always included the eradication of the human race.

"This should be fun," he muttered to Gaeta as the Cylon heavy raider slowly entered the landing bay. Gaeta shrugged nervously.

"Centurions are hard. Don't hesitate to shoot if this goes bad," Gaeta said quietly as he handed Lee a phaser.

"I wasn't planning to ask one to dance, you know," Lee said softly. It worried him, in that he didn't consider Gaeta a coward, but he also didn't think the man relished being volunteered for the job of getting within a few feet of a Centurion. "Don't worry."

Gaeta shrugged. "This won't end well."

Better to let him stew, Lee decided. He wasn't jumping for joy at the idea of a fight either, but he was reassured by how alert the men and women on the catwalks looked. And the notion of forcefields at the ready to contain the visitors was reassuring as well. The Cylons, Centurions and otherwise, wouldn't have the knowledge to know that the Starfleet people were highly armed. It could be bad, Lee could see any number of scenarios where things went sour. He wasn't entirely unconvinced the heavy raider's door would open to reveal a squad of Centurions. Cylons did like to lie.

The heavy raider landed and the doors opened, revealing a Six. She was wearing one of her typical outfits, a red cocktail dress and high heels. She was followed by one of each of the other biological Cylons, and two Centurions, who stomped to each side of the heavy raider's open doors. Like trained dogs, only if Data was to be believed, they were much more than irritable pets.

Picard stepped forward. " I am Captain Picard. The Federation hopes to establish peaceful relations with your people. I have prepared a conference room where we can talk. I do request that you relinquish any weapons you may have, and that your soldiers in arms remain here." He gestured to the Centurions.

"Of course we are not armed," Six said easily. The rest of the Cylons nodded in agreement. It made Lee's skin crawl because he was certain that someone was lying. Six stepped forward and smiled at Picard. "I am certain the colonial people have already given their side in this conflict. We hope that you'll be willing to listen to our side as well, but as a gesture of good will, of course the Centurions will remain here." She fairly writhed with sexuality, but Lee saw that Picard wasn't falling for it at all, and she seemed to realize it as well, her stance becoming less sexual and more businesslike.

"I have some findings I'd like to share with your people as well," Picard said easily. He quickly introduced the officers of the Enterprise, leaving out Data who was pointedly standing away from the main group. Which made sense, Lee realized. It was unreasonable that an officer as highly placed as Data wouldn't be attending the meeting. Better to let the Cylons think that Data was just an alien member of the crew. Lee could see the Cylons taking in the non human members of the crew. He kept the amusement off his face but it was nice to see someone other than the exchange officers look shocked and awkward.

"Now, unless you have questions, I think we'd all be more comfortable in the conference room," Picard said easily. He was very good at setting people at ease, Lee thought suddenly. The man gestured to the door that led out of the landing bay.

"But I do have a question," chimed Cavil. He walked out of position and over to the exchange officers. "I recognize our friends here. Major Adama, Lt. Dualla, of course the Agathons, and… Lt. Gaeta. But something seems different." He smirked at Gaeta. "Now I have always found Lt. Gaeta to be very precise and correct, so it's a little odd that he seems to be in the wrong uniform. Unless your people have already signed a treaty with the colonials."

His tone was suspicious and angry, and Lee realized suddenly that Cavil's anger was partly directed at the other Cylons. There had been dissent on coming, and Cavil thought they were being double crossed in some way. Which made it even funnier.

Gaeta looked at Picard, who nodded. "To be accurate," Picard said pleasantly, "The colonial government has not yet signed a treaty. It just happens that … Lt. Cmdr Gaeta was born on Earth and has been a member of Starfleet for some time.

"Really?" Cavil said. "Anything else?"

"My grandfather was an energy being who liked to pass himself off as the Lord Apollo. I'm actually not a human being at all. Oh, and I have powers. That I inherited. From my alien grandfather." Gaeta smirked. Lee almost laughed.

Cavil glared at him for a long moment. Then the Cylon laughed. "Son of a bitch, I knew it!" He turned to the other Cylons, who varied between eye rolling annoyance and actual smirks. "You all owe me, don't deny it now!" He turned his attention back to Gaeta. "We had a pool going on you. And I win, because I knew you weren't a sleeper agent!"

Gaeta rolled his eyes and sighed. "Is there anyone who didn't think I was a Cylon?"

"President Roslin," Cavil said quickly. He snapped his fingers in Gaeta's face. "Trust me, if she thought you were a Cylon, you would have been out the airlock like that."

Chapter Text

Data watched as the biological Cylons followed Captain Picard to the conference room. It was interesting to him how the Cylons reacted to the news that Felix Gaeta was from Earth. As an android, he was not empathic in any way but he had learned from interacting with humans how to read their expressions. The Cylons were surprised but… Data didn't see the same sort of shock on their faces. If their comments were to be believed, some of them had believed Gaeta was a fellow Cylon. Which meant they couldn't identify biological Cylons either.

There were references in the colonial records that the military, and Dr. Gauis Baltar, thought that there were twelve models of the human formed Cylons. Apparently the Cylons believed that as well, despite how they were aware of only seven models. It was circumstantial evidence in favor of the theory that the Centurions were in control. It was the only way the memory of the other five Cylons could be removed. It also meant that there was a possibility that the colonial fleet had more Cylons in it. A concern for later, along with the issue of Palamas indicators, it would need to be brought to the attention of the colonial government, but his concern now was with the Centurions standing silently on the deck.

They were oddly designed. He knew that his design was unique not only due to his positronic brain, but because he was designed to physically mimic human beings, at least outwardly. The bipedal design was unwieldy, and difficult to perfect, and Data wondered why they didn't design themselves into a more compact form. He stepped over to one of the consoles, where Gaeta was standing. Lee Adama was eying the Centurions, his expression alert and wary.

"I am not seeing anything unusual in the ship," Gaeta said softly. "Of course it has been a long time since I did this. Would you check my work, sir?" He tapped the console, where he had a small paper notebook.

They are probing the computer defenses and failing, Gaeta's note read. They can hear us.

Note writing was quaint but effective. As much as Gaeta would need to be retrained to lose some of the habits of the lower tech society he'd been living with, it was helpful. The Centurions were unlikely to be telepathic but it was possible that they could track electronic messages. Unlikely, but it was better to be careful. In their current form, Cylons were not dangerous to the Federation and considering that the bulk of their forces were on the other side of the Beta Quadrant, they were more likely to turn into a problem for the Romulans. With their current form of armaments, the Cylons wouldn't be much more than an irritant to the Romulans. But it was always important to look at things with a long view. The biocylons were effective infiltrators, and with Romulan technology the mechanized Cylons would formidable shock troops. Of course, that would be after the Romulans conquered them. That would about five minutes after the Romulans assessed their defenses.

In the mean time, Data would watch and wait. The concept of a machine intelligence building it's own society intrigued him, but he had yet to see an example that he had any interest in joining. The Cylons were too overly vengeful. The sneak attack on the human homeworlds was brilliant and vicious. He wondered how a mind built on logic could come up with such a plan. It did suggest that the Centurions had mastered at least one emotion, despite their mechanized nature.

They had mastered hate quite well.

~*~

It made too much sense, Helo thought as Picard gently explained the political situation to the Cylons. It was obvious to him that the biological Cylons were in shock and had been in shock since before they had even set foot on the Enterprise. He knew it, and Sharon knew it too. What impressed him was how Picard had picked up on it as well. The Cylons were badly shook up by their defeat and Helo wondered why. They had suffered serious losses before. Considering the distances involved, maintaining the supply line had to be getting difficult to maintain and losing three of the four basestars in their group was a hard blow, but it wasn't as though a resurrection ship had been lost. Yet, he could see on their faces that underneath the bravado, they were badly frightened.

"So right now, the colonial people are under the protection of the Federation. That is why I fired upon your ships. The Federation has no wish to engage in hostilities with the Cylon people, however, we will defend our territory. The people of the Twelve Colonies will be settling on a new world within the Federation and they will be protected. Perhaps it's time to end this war."

"It's not like we can go back, or want to go back," Helo added helpfully. " The colonies are gone. The radiation levels are so high…. Only the people who were on anti-radiation meds are still alive." It had already occurred to him that the biological Cylons were human as well, and that they could hardly use the old colonies as home worlds either. They might live longer, but the radiation would eventually be a problem for them as well. They didn't have a lot to look forward to on the trip home. "Part of the treaty says that we, the people of the Twelve Colonies, can't just go off and restart a war. Not without severe penalties."

Six seemed to glance at her companions for reassurance before she spoke. " We have no intention of continuing pursuing the human fleet." She looked uncomfortable, they all did, but no one made a move to continue speaking.

"So why did you come here?" Picard asked. Lee was right, Helo realized, Starfleet put a big premium on intelligence and Picard had the brilliance of a man like Gauis Baltar with the military prowess of Bill Adama. A scary combination and Helo was suddenly glad that Picard was on the side of the colonial people.

Again Six looked at her companions. "We wanted to parlay. Because of your weapon. Normally we can absorb losses as our consciousness will download into a new body but your weapon… disrupted the download. Right now our ship is barely functioning because so many of our personnel were incapacitated. Simply turning around and leaving will take time. Several days at least."

Picard took that in. "As long as there are no hostile acts, we will have no problem with your two ships remaining in Federation space." He smiled at their surprise. " Our sensors located your ships some time ago, the remaining basestar and the resurrection ship. As a sign of our willingness to assist you in ceasing hostilities with the colonial people, we have not acted on that information."

For a moment, Helo was angry, and then he let it pass. That was certainly not how Bill Adama would have handled having that knowledge but he was willing to allow that the Federation did things differently. It was high handed of Picard to know where their enemy had gone to ground and not say anything, but Helo was starting to see Picard's plan. He was reassuring the Cylons first that they weren't going to be blown out of the sky. He had wondered why Picard hadn't started right off with the big news and now he understood why. Picard wanted the fight to end, and both sides had to agree. Helo knew from experience that both the colonial people and the Cylons thought the other side would be after vengeance. He knew Picard was going to discuss the medical findings and that could very well make the biological Cylons feel as though they had their back up against a wall. If there was a basic human trait that Cylons had, it was stubbornness and the refusal to quit. They were already afraid, had already suffered a devastating loss. It took a hell of a lot to bring Cylon to the negotiation table and Picard was trying to ease their fear so that they didn't attack in reflex to having their world view shattered.

It was damn smart in other words.

Six was disturbed, he could tell that, but she was also quick to respond. "If you know that, if you have already started treaty talks with the Twelve Colonies, if you know you can destroy us, why have you agreed to this parlay?"

"That is an excellent question," Picard said pleasantly. "There are several reasons. First and foremost, the purpose of Starfleet is to explore and to extend our knowledge. That includes learning about your people. Second, we want this senseless war to end. Humans in the Federation originate from Earth," and Helo could see all of the Cylons start with surprise. Even Troi seemed to jump and Helo realized that was probably a sympathetic response. He wasn't surprised. It hadn't been spelled out to the Cylons that the humans in the Federation were from Earth. Picard continued, " We were not aware of the Twelve Colonies and yet already we've found many points of commonality. We understand that Cylons consider themselves the children of humanity and we hope to find many points of commonality with you as well." He gestured to Sharon and Helo made sure to squeeze her hand underneath the table. They both knew what was coming, and Sharon was still upset about it.

"In fact," Picard said, his pleasant baritone voice almost soothing, "Lt. Agathon allowed our specialists to examine her and we made some interesting discoveries."

Cavil rolled his eyes. " Of course you allowed them to examine you." His tone was cynical and angry and Helo could feel Sharon tense. The Cylon man turned his harsh gaze back to Picard. "Let me guess, you've found even better ways to kill us."

Picard smiled coolly. "No. We have plenty of ways to do that." He paused, and straighten in his chair, taking on a much more authoritative look. "If you want bluntness, we can do that. I know where your remaining ships are. The main point of talking with you is so that you can understand your current choices."

All of the Cylons looked nervous. "And what choices are those?" Cavil asked.

"You can return to your own system." Picard's voice was rock steady and clear, and Helo realized instantly that Picard was not negotiating, but laying down the facts. "If that's your decision, the Federation of Planets has no issue. We have some recommendations but ultimately you're free to leave Federation space whenever you wish." He waited a moment. "If you continue to attack the fleet of the Twelve Colonies, as a representative of the Federation, I would be forced to respond and all of you would be killed. Make no mistake about that, your ships can not stand against the Enterprise's defenses. And then there's your third choice. You can consider asking for a similar treaty with the Federation."

"Right, because you're fine with Cylons joining your federation." Cavil said. " We'll all be one happy family. Maybe we could go on camp outs and drink together."

"Perhaps," Picard said, "But if you wanted to stay, it is possible. The Federation is not ruled by humans. The decision to engage in talks with the Twelve Colonies was made in part by Vulcan and Andorian delegates. Earth and many of Earth's colonies, are members of the Federation, but they aren't the only members."

"Why would we want to stay?" Doral asked, his expression shrewd. " And what are these findings you're talking about? You obviously think we'll find it important."

" I think you will," Picard said easily. He handed padds to the Cylons. "The medical findings can be examined by your own doctors. Of course, we only examined Lt. Agathon, and in fact we would like to examine more Cylons if you'll allow it in order to verify our findings. What we discovered is that Lt. Agathon is filled with millions of molecular sized machines, robots of a sort we call nanites, that contribute to the general well being of a Cylon and that give you this download ability. The nanites may also affect your fertility." Picard stopped, to let them register that. "One of the things we have to offer you is medical attention. Based on our findings we believe biologically based Cylons like yourselves are human variants."

"That's nonsense," scoffed Cavil.

"That's true," Sharon suddenly said, rising to her feet. She smacked the conference table with an open hand. " Open your eyes, all of you! We're genetically human. If we weren't, I couldn't have had a baby at all. If we were really a separate species, it would be completely ridiculous to think we could have babies with humans. It's like putting a dog and a cat together and expecting them to breed." Helo made sure not to smile, but he was suddenly proud of Sharon. It wasn't easy to stand up against people and Sharon had just proven she was on the side of peace. She lowered her voice. " Do you think these people need to play nice with us? That they are just making this up? Look at the tests. We are genetically human. We're clones, clones of humans with these nanites letting us download and be faster and stronger… The Federation doesn't have any reason to lie to us. We didn't destroy their home world and they didn't enslave us. They don't have any reason to lie." She looked at the two women Cylons. "Think about it. You might be able to have babies. I had a baby, I'm going to have another baby and maybe you can too." And in that moment Helo realized that she had made sure that the female Cylons at least would be open to talking to the Federation. In fact, he could see interest in all of their eyes, even Cavil's.

Cavil was reading the reports and Helo could see that he was interested. The other Cylons were reading as well, but Helo could see that Cavil was going to be the one to convince. He wondered when Picard was going to raise the issue of the Centurions, but sure enough Picard started to speak.

"We believe, based on what the medical facts, that you may not be as in control as you believe," Picard said.

And much to Helo's surprise, Cavil set down the padd, and nodded agreement. "I get it. Think about it," the older Cylon said to the others. " Think about everything our pretend God tells us. We're robots, but we have a god, and we're supposed be fruitful and multiply. With the humans. How much time and energy have we pissed away on that little commandment?" Helo watched as the other Cylons nodded although he could see most of them hadn't really connected the dots. Cavil began to chuckle. "We are idiots. And we're not even idiot robots. So who is running the show? God? Lt. Gaeta's alien grandfather?"

"We believe the Centurions may not be as controlled or as unintelligent as you believe them to be." Picard looked intently at Cavil. " After all, if the colonial history is correct, the humans created the Cylons and the Cylons created you. Is there any reason to believe that the Centurions can't think for themselves? Other than the fact that you're able to order them about?"

It was a good question, Helo realized, because he could see it making all of the Cylons think. And think hard, and he could see the realization dawn on them. He felt bad for them, suddenly. He didn't feel a lot of sympathy, New Caprica had been a nightmare for too many of his friends for a huge amount of sympathy, but it was a shattering thing to realize, that they had been nothing but pawns.

Six seemed to internalize it the quickest. "If you're right," she said to Picard, "then we have a huge safety problem on the basestar. If the Centurions are truly in control, they will not allow us to inform the others of this… revelation? Which is why you're suggesting that we might want to stay here."

"We would have to turn off all of the Centurions," Leoben said slowly. "That's not impossible but if they are intelligent, they should be as concerned about the new ship and its weapons as we are and they would be alert to any change in our behavior." He eyed Picard carefully. "And we don't even know that this is true."

"You could go turn off the Centurions on my landing deck," Picard offered pleasantly, "While discussing the medical findings. If I am right, your biological status as humans is the last thing the Cylon Centurions want you to know, because you become much less useful to them. If not completely disposable. After all, the plan has been to destroy humanity, hasn't it? What do you think the end plan is for you?"

The Cylons all looked at each other. Finally Six said "Do we all agree?" and the group nodded as one. She took that in and then looked at Picard. "Then lets test your theory."

Chapter Text

Lee watched the Centurions warily. They hadn't made a move since the biological Cylons had followed Picard to the conference, but he wasn't bored. Not in the slightest. Once his initial nervousness had passed, he had walked up to the Centurions and taken a close look. He'd never seen one up close that wasn't in pieces. At least, he hadn't seen one that wasn't attacking him. They were scary, he didn't deny that. He didn't know how the people who had been on New Caprica had stood it, being so close to the things.

He noticed that most of the Starfleet personnel were keeping their distance as well. Some of the security people had explained what Borg security protocols were, and why they were in place. The Federation seemed soft but they had enemies, enemies that made the Cylons look like annoyances, and he was beginning to sense that they might underestimate the Centurions.

Then again, it wasn't as though the colonials hadn't made that mistake as well. He smiled suddenly. Apparently the skin jobs had made that mistake too. He stepped back over to the console that Gaeta was fiddling with. Gaeta had that intent look, but he wasn't looking overly worried. " Anything happening?"

Gaeta shook his head. "All is quiet. It's too bad you had to miss the conference, sir."

"It's not like we'd have any say in what gets decided," Lee said easily. He had a feeling that Picard was going to make offers he wouldn't like. That was something they were going to need to get used to, he was fairly certain that the Twelve Colonies would soon be conforming to Federation law. That was a concern for later though. He looked down at the console. It was a complex, colorful display with no buttons. He had picked up a few things, that the consoles usually interacted with the overall ship and there was an amazing number of things that could be directed from a console. "Do you really remember how to do all this? After ten years?"

After a moment, Gaeta smiled slightly. "No. I'm relying on talent. Most of time I don't even remember to not look for the light switch or the hatch door. And colonial technology is so different… I'm mentally translating everything I do." He laughed suddenly. "Of course things could be worse. I used to have nightmares of someone really making the Cylon accusation. When I was in the brig… after I attacked Dr. Baltar, I was positive Dr. Cottle would haul out my medical records and that I was about to be thrown out the airlock." He laughed again. "Which makes the fact that apparently everyone thought I was a Cylon especially funny."

"I never thought you were a Cylon, Felix. I thought you were kind of a naïve idiot because Dr. Baltar treated you like garbage and you never seemed to care. Were you just humoring him?" He had wondered that. Gaeta's attack on Baltar had been topic of ship gossip for a long time, and it had stayed as a topic because Gaeta had never discussed it with anyone. "I mean, aren't you smarter than he is?"

"No… I'm not, Lee." Gaeta looked up at him, his expression intent. "I'm smart, and that's a nice perk, but my father always said I had the methodical mind of an engineer. Dr. Baltar… is a genuinely brilliant man, in a way that I am not. I can figure things out. He can come up with unique theories. I'm more the sort of person who takes the theory and plays with it."

"Why did you stab him?" Lee asked. " I… I had wondered. What he said that… set you off."

Gaeta's expression took on a faintly annoyed caste. "He said he saw me in the temple. That I was a Cylon, and he said it loud enough for the recordings to pick it up. He was mad, Lee, mad that I was trying to get him to give up information so he tried to get me killed. For spite. Maybe to teach me a lesson. I almost killed him on New Caprica, and I didn't, but I don't think he ever forgave the fact that he had to talk me out of shooting him. When he said that I was a Cylon… I had done so much to keep him from making an ass of himself, on the Galactica, on New Caprica… I could have ignored the election fraud. We could have kept moving. All of those people could be alive and that's my fault because I took my oath as a Starfleet officer to mean that I couldn't allow a violation of colonial law since it would personally benefit me. I gave up going home to do the right thing and that killed about six thousand people. You know my other reason for not telling your father about what happened in the airlock? I just didn't care. The only reason I didn't put my sidearm in my mouth and pull the trigger was that I owed it to you all to get you here. So I was beaten up and almost murdered, and most of the people I thought were my friends stopped speaking to me, and Gauis Baltar, who is only alive because I didn't shoot him in the head decided to frak me over one last time and get me killed because he was pissed that I wasn't helping him. I saw red. I don't even remember stabbing him.." He eyed the Centurions. "They're too quiet."

"Agreed," Lee said softly. He didn't say more. Gaeta wasn't the first person in the fleet to talk about suicide and it sounded like the worst had passed. The big issue was the Centurions. They could hear, and while it was reasonable for the humans to be suspicious, he didn't want to appear too suspicious. If it was possible to not look too suspicious to a Cylon Centurion.

He brushed that musing aside as the corridor door slid open and Picard entered, followed by the Cylons and then the exchange officers and other Starfleet officers. If anything the Cylons looked even more worried and scared. All right, Lee thought with no small amount of amusement, let's see how they handle it. The Cylons moved over to the Centurions, and then turned to look at Picard.

"Your information and willingness to talk has been enlightening," Six said. "Particularly your medical information. Of course it's difficult to believe that our infertility issues can be solved so easily, our doctors will need to confirm your treatment is effective."

"That's quite reasonable," Picard said. "This war has been a regrettable misunderstanding and we are pleased that you've accepted the Federation's offer to mediate a peace treaty with the Twelve Colonies."

Lee knew that had to be a lie, because he had enough of Picard's measure as a leader to know that such an offer would have needed to have been run by President Roslin, and while he knew President Roslin was pretty happy with the Federation, she wasn't likely to jump at the chance to sit down with the Cylons and declare peace. The Cylons seemed pleased but also nervous, and Cavil looked angry. They were acting, Lee realized. It was all a little show, being put on for the Centurions. He gripped the hand phaser he'd been given. Whatever was going to happen, it was going to happen in the next few moments.

"As a courtesy, Five and Eight will stay here to assist in the negotiations," Six added. "And as an additional courtesy, we will deactivate these two Centurions for you, so that your scientists can examine our technology."

Lee tensed. The Cylons were trying to provoke the Centurions. Or else they were about to stage an attack. It was one or the other, and both meant the Centurions were about to get violent. He watched as Cavil walked up to the first Centurion, catching in his peripheral vision that Data was suddenly much closer and that the other Cylons and Picard were watching very carefully.

Cavil began to fiddle with the chest of the first one and that's when the Centurions began to move. The first simply slammed Cavil in the chest, and its claw hands whipped out to slash. Much to Lee's surprise, Data jumped forward and ripped the Centurion's arm off of it's body. It was shocking, made worse by the sheer lack of expression on the android's face. Even the Centurion seemed shocked, and for an instant it didn't move. Then it raised its other arm, aiming the embedded gun. Data moved, almost too fast to see and tore its head from its shoulders. The Centurion's body balanced for a moment and then collapsed to the floor. The second Centurion seemed almost stunned and then it too began to move.

"Stop!" Gaeta shouted, pointing at the second Centurion. Lee was stunned to see not only the Centurion but also Data stop moving. Gaeta looked suddenly pale. "Someone do something…."

"Containment fields!" Picard called and the Centurion was enveloped in sparkling light. It looked like a transporter field except that it stayed around the Centurion. The Centurion fired its gun and Lee watch in awe as the bullets pinged against the field and then ricocheted back into the Centurion. It took the hits stoically, and then like its companion, collapsed to the floor, still enveloped in the sparkly field of energy.

"So, this makes the point," Picard said, breaking the sudden silence. " You told the Centurions not to attack and when they heard you had decided to make peace with the colonial people, they did act against orders."

"They're sentient." Six said it coldly. The other Cylons nodded, even Cavil who was still on the floor. She looked at the two Centurions. "We've been manipulated. We are all at risk." She gestured to the remains of the first Centurion. " We don't have much time. We have priority in resurrection. It's quicker than just returning. Who will make the sacrifice?"

" I will," Cavil said. He struggled to his feet, obviously pained. "We have to stop the slaughter. You know what will happen if we're not first." He put his hand in his pocket and then withdrew an object from his pocket. With a stylish flash, he flicked the blade of a butterfly knife around his wrist and held it out. "What," he asked in surprise, " You really thought I wouldn't come here armed?" With that, he held up the knife and cut his throat. Blood sprayed across the deck and Cavil dropped to the deck, dead.

"God, he's such a show off," Leoben muttered. He looked at Picard, his expression suddenly intent. " I know we were all pretending to fool the Centurions, but I think we should seriously talk about a treaty." He gestured to the dead Centurions. " I doubt we'll be allowed back after this."

Chapter Text

Bill Adama fought the urge to pace around the CIC. It was a habit of his childhood, to pace, and one he had broken when he became a command officer. It made the crew nervous, it telegraphed his worry to them and they needed to think he was completely at ease with the situation, even if he wasn't. Especially if he wasn't.

The Cylon ship had landed on the Enterprise with no discernable problems and since then the airways had been silent. Despite the assurances of Riker and Worf, he wasn't yet ready to accept that there was no chance that the Cylons could pull something. No one had perfect defenses. He wasn't going to be happy until he saw the Cylon heavy raider leave the Enterprise. Or until Picard called to report that he had been forced to gun the Cylons down. He certainly wouldn't be surprised by the later.

"Dradis contact!" Alghee suddenly shouted. She pointed to the screens. Sure enough, the Cylon base star had jumped to their position. And then the resurrection ship, which surprised him greatly.

"Red alert!" he called, realizing suddenly that a good portion of the crew was likely still drunk. They would have to do, he thought worriedly. He was surprised to see both Worf and Riker look suddenly concerned. "Get the Vipers launched now!"

Alghee gulped nervously and grabbed the handset. "Actions stations!"

Adama watched the DRADIS. The Cylons weren't immediately launching. Whatever the reason, he was glad. It gave them more time to get the pilots out. But as he watched, the basestar continued to sit there, swaying back and forth as though whoever was at the controls was drunk. Finally it seemed to stop moving, and still the Cylons didn't launch.

"We're getting wireless from the Enterprise." Adama took the headset from the com officer.

"This is Galactica Actual. Our defenses are ready." One base star against one battle star, they had a chance, a good chance really. And if Picard had time to call him, things couldn't be too bad on the Enterprise.

"The Cylons have agreed to a cessation of hostilities while they consider some scientific information we've presented. You read our medical findings?" Picard's tone made it sound like it was all just part of a typical day.

"Yes, although I'm not sure I'm ready to believe it." Clones and tiny robots with transmission capabilities at first glance seemed ridiculous but Lt. Alghee had been excited and talking about how much sense it made.

" They believed it, and the Centurions they brought rebelled. I want to assure you, we are watching the base star very carefully. They're currently engaged in shutting down the Centurions on the base star." Picard's voice became slightly more commanding. "There's no need to attack. Our sensors indicate that the base star is badly damaged and barely maintaining integrity, and the resurrection ship is unarmed. We also can tell from sensor readings that they've had serious losses while engaging the Centurions. We're going to be offering medical assistance as soon as they signal that the rebellion is over."

An order to stand down, Bill realized, for all that it was explained in diplomatic politeness. An order that would have ramifications if he didn't follow it, and he didn't like the situation at all, but the Enterprise was apparently undamaged and the Cylon base star was drifting. He knew the weapons on the Enterprise could reach the base star long before the Galactica could.

And yet it still made him nervous. "I'll lower our alert level," he said evenly, "but we do have jump coordinates out to the fleet," and he saw an opportunity, " and we will maintain our vigilance."

"Of course," Picard said. "I'll make sure you're kept informed of all events. I know Major Adama is planning a report for you as well."

"The Galactica can't jump," Bill said, letting his own tone grow firm. "I've been patient. I understand your security concerns. And at first, I think it was necessary but the initial shock and anger has passed. I need Lt. Cmdr. Gaeta to fix the FTL drive. Most of my marines would rather shake his hand and have him bless their children than take a shot at him. If it is necessary, I would personally escort him around the ship." He rather hoped that wasn't necessary but he was willing to agree to it. He wasn't an unreasonable man. He had been very patient, and the Galactica was dead in space until the jump drive was fixed.

There was a pause on the wireless. "That shouldn't be necessary," Picard said. "And I agree. The Cylons are not a threat to you here, but this is a contentious area of space and it would be better for all we moved your fleet to a safer area. We need to let the situation with the base star settle, but this will be arranged as soon as possible."

"That's acceptable." Bill said after a moment. To Alghee he said "Set condition two. I want our pilots in the bays ready to fly if necessary." The fact that the engines would soon be fixed made seeing the basestar sitting on the DRADIS scan a lot easier to bear.

Tigh ran into the CIC looking flush and out of breath just as the alarms went off. " What's going on?" he asked as he trotted to Bill's position.

"The Cylons are having a revolution, and we're watching it." Bill looked at him. "Where did you leave the Ambassador?"

Tigh looked around. "She was right behind me…."

Great, Bill thought. I've got an alien ambassador running around unescorted. 

Chapter Text

They were good people, Lwaxana Troi thought as she strode down the corridor of the Galactica. The people of the Twelve Colonies were hard on the outside, that was obvious even to the emotionally brain deaf, but she could see underneath the posturing. The colonial humans were first and foremost terrified. Terrified from all the terrible things that had happened to them, and terrified to look forward.

Saul Tigh for example, a man who desperately wanted to be forgiven, and yet she already knew his biggest problem was that he didn't consider himself worthy of forgiveness. Of course the wife had done a number on him long before their marriage ended in a cup of poison. She had some recommendations for Deanna, that was certain, but she had stolen away from Saul for a reason.

The colonials were terrified, and the colonials had secrets they didn't want to be discovered, but Saul Tigh's secret wasn't the one she had sensed the second she had set foot on the deck. His secret was ugly and dark, and intensely personal. That was interesting, and it held her interest, but it wasn't the big secret she sensed burbling in the ship.

No, she thought as she walked down the dark, metallic corridor, there was definitely something going on. It was challenging, because the colonials were on the one hand more open and emotional, and on the other, any number of them knew instinctively how to hide their thoughts. Saul could, and certainly President Laura Roslin could.

Lwaxana wondered if Jean-Luc had realized just what a snake he was holding in Laura Roslin. Most likely he knew, he was sensitive in a way most humans weren't. That was a woman that wouldn't hesitate to go for an eye in a fight, or a knife in the back, and would then smile when accused. Not terrible qualities for the leader of a rag tag fugitive fleet, not even bad qualities for a leader in general, but Lwaxana sensed something else. Laura Roslin had a secret, a big secret, and Lwaxana was very curious to know what it was. Roslin also had some innate ability to hide her secrets from a telepath. Which made sense, the reports indicated that the colonials were potentially more likely to be talented than the average Earth human. That wasn't what Lwaxana found interesting, not really. What she found interesting was that Laura Roslin was making an effort to hide the secret, whatever it was.

It wasn't the only secret that the woman had, but what slipped out, just flashes really, told Lwaxana that it had to do with their journey and the young officer that had been hidden among them. She was curious, but sometimes it was better not to pry. The officer seemed troubled, and she didn't need a report to see that no one in Starfleet wanted to find a problem like a Prime Directive violation to mar the treaty talks. She was there on behalf of the Federation, so she wasn't going to ignore obvious violations but she didn't intend to pry deeply either. Even if she did suspect that Laura Roslin was up to something.

But sometimes it was fun to leave the tourist areas and find out what the natives were really like. As she walked, two young people ran by, their thoughts filled with nothing but the idea of ripping off their clothes and making a baby. They were already undressing, and didn't even notice that she turned to look at them. The colonials certainly weren't as uptight as their cousins on Earth, she thought with amusement.

She turned a corner and found herself looking at a hatch door. How quaint, she thought as she opened it, they still call the detention area the brig. More amusing was the young man in uniform asleep at his post, a bottle of the ubiquitous ambrosia at his feet. She had a feeling discipline wasn't always so lax but it did make it easier to poke around the ship. And already she had a feeling that there was something interesting to poke at.

The cells were mostly empty but as she looked, a man came up to the bars. She almost flinched as his thoughts assaulted her. Fear, anger, self loathing, and yet also a surprising amount of indignation. And underneath, a strange dual side that she couldn't quite place. The man was young, with dark long hair and a heavy beard and his expression was almost pleading, even before he spoke. "Please," he said quietly, obviously not wanting the guard to awaken. "Please help me. I know who you are, I know you're the Betazed Ambassador. I saw it on the wireless. I need your help. These people are all against me."

A narcissist, she thought, and possibly paranoid. Still, there was something about his desperation… "How can I help?"

"I am Dr. Gaius Baltar and I am being unfairly imprisoned in this ship." He straightened up and let go of the cell bars. "I have not been charged with any crime, I have not been allowed a lawyer, I have been imprisoned here for almost a year over baseless accusations and innuendo, and since our arrival into the arms of the Federation, I have been intentionally kept from interacting with the Federation envoys."

Lwaxana almost smiled. Gaius Baltar stank of lies and deceit. Even as he looked at her with imploring eyes, he was considering his next move, whether she was buying his story, if he needed to flirt with her. He even believed some of what he was saying. "I'm here now." She stepped over to the cell and let her features soften with interest. "Why don't we talk?"

Two could play at the flirting game, and she knew without a doubt that she was much better at it. Baltar's sheer joy at someone being willing to listen didn't escape her, and neither did his sudden flash of smug satisfaction. He leaned against the bars. "I won't bore you with the details of my unfair treatment. You're a planetary ambassador... And a lovely woman besides….I'm sure you have many things to deal with as far as the treaty negations go. I was president of the Twelve Colonies before my… unfortunate situation came into being. They blamed me for the Cylon takeover of New Caprica…. But that isn't why I need to speak with you."

It was exactly why he wanted to speak with her, and Lwaxana was certain that even a Klingon would have picked that up but if he wanted to play, she was game. "I understand. It must have been awful. Your willingness to ignore your own discomfort just to speak with me is noble." The role of an older woman being shyly pleased that a handsome younger man was complimenting her was a new role, but fun to play. Sometimes meeting new people allowed one to try new things.

Baltar certainly found it compelling. He was mentally counting a victory already, which tempted her to drop the act if just to teach the little schemer a lesson but then he began to speak. "Lt. Gaeta… Lt. Cmdr. Gaeta of Starfleet was my presidential aide on New Caprica. He…"Baltar made a point of looking both embarrassed and worried. " President Roslin and Admiral Adama are protecting Lt. Gaeta by ignoring my complaints. Lt. Gaeta himself attempted to murder me to silence me." He pointed to a scar on his neck.

"Why would he want to silence you? And why would President Roslin and Admiral Adama agree to such a thing?" Although it did make her wonder. Roslin, more so than Adama, was hiding something. And Gaeta who spent ten years of his life living as one of them…. Starfleet officers weren't gods, they could be tempted. As she understood it, Gaeta had already confessed that he had used his knowledge to navigate a safe route, which meant he had been tempted. Not exactly arming the people with photon torpedoes but purists would argue that it was a violation. Considering the relatively high technological level of the colonists, that sort of violation would be winked at. But Gaius Baltar seemed far too internally pleased with himself for it to be a small violation.

Now he looked shamefaced. He really was quite good at visual deception, Lwaxana thought. While he clearly had no idea what her talents were, and that she could hear him plotting his lies in his head as he considered them, Baltar was outwardly a contrite yet worried looking man, his eyes filled with sorrow. He crossed his arms. " I admit it, Madame Ambassador. I wasn't a good president. I made bad decisions, I was selfish, and the job bored me so I spent most of my time drunk, chasing women and whatever pleasure I could find. Lt. Gaeta knew that, he made most of the presidential decisions for me. And… he tried to use me to get certain types of scientific research done. He even gave me a notebook. It was filled with intriguing scientific theory and he told me he knew the way to Earth. That's a violation of your prime directive. That's why he tried to kill me, he knew that once we started moving again, we would find Earth and I would find out that what he did was a crime among your people." He looked at her worriedly. "The notebook, it was in my scientific files and I doubt anyone has looked at them since we left New Caprica. Please, you have to help me. They're keeping me locked up in order to keep me silent."

And mentally she sighed. He was lying, but only about the details. His story was exactly what she expected from a narcissist. The problem was the underlying truth. Whatever the circumstances, Felix Gaeta had written down technological information and given it to the man in the cell. Baltar viewed that knowledge as his ticket out of jail, and Troi was quite certain that the man wasn't sitting in the brig simply because he was a bad politician. No…. there were too many ugly flashes in his mind, and he wasn't hiding those things from her, but from himself. He was only telling her about the notebook because he saw it as his path to freedom. He didn't care that it would destroy the life of another person, and he didn't know that it wasn't going to help him at all.

She was an ambassador, not a clinician, but she had no doubt at all that Dr. Gaius Baltar was insane. Which meant at best he would find himself in a treatment facility for the disturbed. A nicer alternative than the Galactica brig, but not the freedom he thought his information would buy him.

And as a Federation Ambassador, she couldn't pretend the conversation hadn't happened. Fortunately for Felix Gaeta's sake, Baltar was insane and therefore his story would be disbelieved especially if there was no evidence to prove it. But she would have to say something. It was a violation of the Prime Directive, and a major one, and she couldn't ignore it.

"I promise you," she said softly, "that this conversation will be reported to Federation authorities, Dr. Baltar."

"Thank you Madame Ambassador," he said gratefully, and meaning it.

The hatch door opened and he stepped back from the bars. Lwaxana turned, although she knew already that it was her companion, Saul Tigh. He was flustered and upset that not only had he lost track of her, but some sort of silly stand off was occurring with their enemy.

"Get up!" he yelled at the sleeping teenager. Tigh turned to her, his expression both angry and worried. "I'm sorry, Madame Ambassador. I thought you were right behind me when the alert sounded."

Despite the drunken stupor that the man put himself in, she knew he suspected that she had intentionally slipped away. And she was certain that Saul had enough troubles that he had caused by his own actions without needing her to add to the mess. "I'm so sorry," she said, making sure to take his arm. She led him to the hatch door. " I just got turned around. This is such a big ship… It's quite delightful of you to be worried about me, Colonel."

Such fun, she thought inwardly. Not only was Saul attracted to her, despite all of his issues with trusting women, but she could feel Baltar's horror at the idea that she was somehow aligned already with Saul. So she leaned in close to Saul and whispered, "I'd like to meet with President Roslin, if that's possible."

Baltar's tale was interesting, but she was quite convinced that it was not the secret that Laura Roslin was keeping. 

Chapter Text

It wasn't until they were all waiting to see how the Cylon base star was going to respond that Dee realized that Felix had slipped away from the group. No, she realized as she thought about it, Felix had been with them as the Cylons were led back to the conference room and then Picard had said something to him quietly, and he had left. She had just assumed he was coming back, but he hadn't.

Not that he had missed much. The remaining Cylons were mostly shellshocked, not wanting to answer questions themselves. Dr. Crusher was being quite gentle with them. She could admit, she found it irritating to see anyone be nice to Cylons, but she could see how pathetically interested they were in children and having children and how worried they were about the outcome.

Still, she didn't particularly want to hold their hands and worry with them. Not after all that had happened, and she didn't envy Helo in the slightest for being stuck there while Sharon walked them through the more technical explanation of nanites and nanites infestations. He was uncomfortable but she doubted he would leave Sharon's side. The Agathons tended to stick together out of habit and Dee figured Helo was just trying to do the right thing. Better him than her, that was her opinion. So she politely excused herself and went to look for him.

She figured Felix was most likely in his quarters. The Enterprise was not the Galactica, and not only did he not know anyone there, he hadn't had time to make any new friends. She also suspected that he hadn't tried very hard to socialize. So she wasn't surprised that when she turned the corner, he was talking to Serena in the corridor just outside his quarters.

She was surprised that the two were clearly and obviously arguing.

"I'm fine," Felix growled.

"Oh really?" Serena said back, her tone one of unbridled annoyance. "Your little demo down on the flight deck didn't mess you up? You think I don't know how that sort of thing feels? You need to eat, and you need to lie down."

"I'm not five," Felix said, raising his voice. "I know what I need to do, better than you, and I have spent a lot of time handling it myself. I'll be fine, and if you think you know so much, you can start by remembering that I like to be alone when I feel like this."

"Oh god forbid I be concerned, Felix. You look like shit, and you looked like shit in that recording you made for Mom and Dad." Serena poked him in the chest. "And I know what a wrist monitor is. You're suicidal."

"I'm not suicidal and we're not discussing it," Felix said, crossing his arms. "You don't understand what it was like, and neither does Counselor Troi."

"What, are you trying to protect us? Is that it? You're Felix the man with the cross to bear and your family has to be protected? That we can't possibly understand what you went through? Do you think we weren't worried? Horrified?" Serena lowered her voice. "It just about killed Mom and Dad when they got the word that you were missing."

"Do you think I don't know that? Really?" Felix said. He managed to sound angry and exhausted at the same time. "Just… leave me alone, Serena. You're not helping."

"You're acting like a child."

"So are you. Are we done?" Dee almost winced at his tone. She had always been lucky to not be on the receiving end of it. He was angry.

Serena didn't seem put off by it. "If it was Sophia here, telling you to lie down and eat something before you drop, you would already be in bed" she snapped back.

"Well, you're not Sophia. You may not be done, but I am." Felix stepped back into his quarters and let the door slide shut. For a moment, Dee thought the woman was going to pound on the door.

Instead, Serena glared and then muttered, "You stupid asshole…" She turned to walk away and spotted Dee. "Dee, come here. You're exactly who I am looking for."

"I saw you arguing," Dee said hesitantly. She was pretty certain that Earth humans found it rude for others to listen in on private arguments. It was definitely considered rude by her own parents. "I didn't want to interrupt…"

Serena waved it away. "Felix and I… we're like oil and water." She laughed, taking Dee by surprise. "It's so incredibly us, you don't even realize. We're adults and yet in any given situation, we usually end up… fighting over the stupidest things like I'm still eight and he's still five. It would be funnier if I wasn't worried about him. I need your help. You saw his little display down in the landing bay, right?"

"Yes…" Dee managed to suppress a shudder. It had scared her just to be near the Centurions and when Felix stepped forward and told the Centurion to stop, she was certain he was a dead man. But it stopped and she had a feeling that even Felix had been surprised.

Serena nodded. "It's a great trick, and what he's not telling you is that doing that kind of sudden manipulation is the physical equivalent of running nonstop for six hours and then lifting weights for another six hours. We don't do the same things, and he reacts differently because his… gifts are different. He needs to lie down and eat something to replace all the calories he burned doing that little trick, or else he's going to fall down."

"That seems reasonable," Dee said after a moment of thought.

"The problem is that he usually feels really nauseous so he won't eat, and he's a man and men don't like to admit they don't feel well, so he's trying to act like he's fine and that means he won't listen to me." Serena smiled. "And then there's the fact that we just… fight over everything, which right now is the one reason I know he's mostly ok. But you're not me, and he likes you and he would probably listen to you. So how about doing me a favor and convince him to take care of himself?"

Dee nodded. She suspected she was missing something, she didn't see how being a man was part of why Felix wasn't admitting to feeling ill, but she understood what Serena meant. "I'll see what I can do."

"Let me run off first, so he won't immediately assume we spoke," Serena said. "And thank you, Dee. I know he'll listen to you." She quickly walked down the hallway and ducked around the corner.

Great, Dee thought suddenly, this is more than I expected. Still, she had wanted to check on him. She signaled a request to enter on the doorpadd and waited. Then after a long moment, she signaled again.

"Dammit," Felix muttered as the door slid open, "I don't feel like arguing! Oh….Dee…." He ran his hand through his hair, and Dee realized with surprise that close up, he looked remarkably pale and tired. His hands shook and she got the impression that his whole body was trembling. "I'm sorry… Serena was here and she was arguing with me and… I thought it was her coming for round two. I didn't mean to snap…." He swayed just a little and put his hand on the wall. "Did you need something?"

"I wanted to check on you, you left the meeting." She hesitated and then went for broke. "Felix, you look really ill. Why don't you sit and I'll get you a pillow or something?"

His expression hardened. "Serena already spoke to you."

"I was on my way here and I caught the tail end of your argument." There was no point in lying. She had a feeling that she and Felix had started something, and it was something she wanted to pursue, and that meant she wasn't going to lie to him. "She said you probably weren't feeling well after… after what happened."

He took a deep breath and then let it out. "I'm all right… It's not like this hasn't happened before, Dee."

"Well, that's no reason for you to suffer now, is there?" She stepped around him and gently pulled him away from the door. "Why did you leave the meeting?" It seemed like a safe question.

He waved his hand at her in an irritated way as he sat down heavily. "I will be going to the Galactica in about six hours. Captain Picard suggested that I might want to rest up. So that I can fix the FTL drive."

"What happened to the drive?" She wasn't an expert but at last check the drive was still disabled and that was odd. FTL drives were designed to last for decades with little to no maintenance issues and the Galactica's drive was constantly looked at since it meant death for everyone if they couldn't jump.

Felix looked at her and then looked away. "If I answer that honestly, I involve you, ok?"

For a moment, Dee was taken back. She realized that he thought she was asking a much different question. He thought she was accusing him, and he was admitting he'd done something. "You did something… Like with the Centurion."

"I didn't say that," Felix snapped. He closed his eyes and sank back into the couch. "This isn't just about me, all right?"

"But…" Dee stopped herself. He wasn't well, and it was possible he wasn't making a lot of sense. Serena was right, he was obviously exhausted and if he was going over to the Galactica in less than six hours, he did need to rest. "All right, lets drop it. What should I do to help you feel better?"

"I'm shocked and surprised Serena didn't give you instructions," Felix said. "I swear, she is my sister and I love her and I missed her, but we could find a reason to argue over anything."

"Heh… she pretty much said the same thing about the two of you." She sat down next to him. "She said you needed to eat and to rest, and honestly you look like you could use both. What should I get you?"

He chuckled. "Chocolate milk. And cookies."

"What?" Milk, she understood, although if his stomach was off, she didn't see how it would help but the first word was one she hadn't heard.

"It's a flavoring that the colonies didn't have. You should try some." Again he chuckled. "Women love chocolate. And I want chocolate milk because the little trick with the Cylon burns calories like you wouldn't believe, and chocolate is full of sugar and milk is full of protein and fat which makes it one of the best things I can have when I feel like this. There's a formulated energy drink the doctors came up with but it's awful." He shifted a little on the couch. "Trust me, ok?"

She stood and went to the replicator. "What did you do on the Galactica? When this happened? Or on New Caprica?" Because it had happened. She had seen the same shaky behavior in the CIC. Not often enough to have made her worry, but looking back, she could remember any number of times where he had looked bad. And he had admitted he had used his gifts on the Cylon computers on New Caprica to get the transmission codes that led to the rescue.

"Ever wonder why I was always eating candy?" Felix said tiredly. He took the glass of dark brown liquid she handed him and sipped it. "And as a back up, I used to steal sugar packets from the mess because I knew we'd run out. I also had little packages of peanuts but those went pretty quick." He smiled slightly. "And now I have to go back to the Galactica. That's going to be fun."

"It won't be that bad," Dee said reassuringly. She assumed there would guards. From Starfleet.

Felix looked at her. "I'm pretty certain the only reason Admiral Adama didn't punch me in the face when I said I was from Earth was because Laura Roslin discretely grabbed his arm. There's been shocking revelations since then. The majority of people in the fleet who were still speaking to me are on this ship. And… between you and I? I sometimes wonder if this is just a hallucination, a dream fantasy…. Then I remind myself that if this is a dream, then I am just one miserable bastard." He stood up suddenly. "I'm going to lie down and try to stop the headache that's coming. And… thank you. You're a really good friend, Dee. You always were."

It scared her. He was scaring her, and she didn't know what to do.

Chapter Text

The wireless poll results were pleasing. The squeals of horror from various commentators about the Cylon basestar was decidedly less pleasant and Roslin turned it off after a moment. She wasn't overjoyed with a Cylon basestar sitting in visual range but she had no intention of protesting it at all. It would not do to tell their hosts whom they could receive and whom not. And there were more important things to do. Like catching up. Felix Gaeta had told her that he was from Earth and not much else, so she had a lot of reading to do if she was going to negotiate a treaty. The more she read about the Federation, the more she realized that the Twelve Colonies, even before the holocaust, would have been incredibly backward in comparison to most of Earth's many colonies. The Enterprise could easily defeat the Cylon basestar, before Bill's pilots could even launch. He was keeping the crew on condition two, but she suspected that was more to get people to sober up than out of fear.

She was pleased to see that if the vote was held that day, the people would overwhelmingly choose settling on a new colony world. That was reassuring. There had been some campaigning for settling on Earth but the Enterprise's ability to protect them, coupled with the news that Earth was really much different than the colonies, people were wanting to stay together more than they wanted to rush to a new place with new people. There would always be plenty of time for that, once they were safely settled and could afford the luxury of having things than naked survival to worry about.

Of course there would be some new faces as well. Part of the package would be colonists from Earth, or at least from its satellite worlds, and also technical advisors and personnel. Some would be from Starfleet and some would be civilian contractors. They could hardly say no, there were so many technical positions that needed to be filled, so many jobs that the people in the fleet just didn't know how to do. If New Caprica had taught her anything, it was that there were very few people in the fleet who knew much about farming or house building or plumbing, let alone more advanced specialties. Most of the survivors who weren't military had been middle aged managers with jobs in sales and marketing, traveling between colonies. And there were still prisoners in the Astral Queen that had been serving sentences for rape and murder before the destruction of the colonies….

After a moment she smiled. All problems, and big ones, but they were the problems of hope, and not despair. She had held her hand on the throttle of the fleet, and it had burned, holding it together, but… It had worked. She might be out of office in the next election, she might even die of a brain aneurysm in the next five minutes but…. She had brought the fleet to safety, to the safety of the 13th colony.

It was pleasant, just to think about. The new colony would be different, the children would have different values but… In the end, the Twelve Colonies would go on, and she was one of the reasons why.

The hatch door wheel turned. Laura looked up in surprise. Bill's quarters were somewhat inviolate. Much to her surprise, Ambassador Troi entered the room, holding a large box, looking cheerful. Behind her was Commander Riker, and he didn't look cheerful at all. That was interesting.

"Well, this is exactly how I expected the Admiral's quarters to look," Troi said with a sniff. "A shrine to his masculinity. Human males can be very predictable, don't you agree, Cmdr. Riker?" She handed the large box to Laura. "This is for you, but it's not why I am here. I have a concern that I have to bring to the attention of Starfleet and the Federation, and I wanted to make sure you were aware of the issue as well. After all, I am a guest here."

Laura tensed. Ambassador Troi was smooth. Flamboyant certainly, and charming in an extroverted way, but Laura had a feeling that one didn't become a Federation ambassador without serious credentials. Worse, Troi was clearly friendly with Riker, and that gave Riker and Starfleet the advantage. "What seems to be the trouble?"

"You have a prisoner in your brig, a Dr. Gaius Baltar." Troi took a seat next to her on the leather couch and waved her hand. "A disgusting man, all things considered. And quite insane. It was almost amusing really, when it wasn't disgusting."

Wonderful, Laura thought darkly. That was exactly the last person she wanted any political ambassador to meet. "If you're concerned about his living conditions….Frankly he is living better than the vast majority of the people in the fleet."

Troi smiled. "No, while he made sure to draw attention to his condition, and the lack of justice he perceives, that's not what he was so desperate to discuss. He told me that Lt. Cmdr. Felix Gaeta gave him a notebook filled with calculations and technical information on warp drives."

"What?" Riker snapped as Laura let out the breath she'd been holding. It wasn't good, but considering Troi's abilities, she was expecting much worse. Riker was angry though, and that was a bad sign. "Was he telling the truth?"

"In that he believes what he was saying, yes." Troi nodded sagely. "That doesn't mean it happened, just that he believes it happened. I assure you, Dr. Baltar truly believes any number of things that aren't actually real." She eyed Laura carefully. "However, real or not, it could be evidence of a Prime Directive violation and I do have to report it. It will need to be investigated."

"Where is this notebook?" Riker asked, his expression concerned.

"Dr. Baltar said he put it in amongst his scientific papers. Papers he believes were later moved to the Galactica." Troi said.

And Laura began to get the sense that while it wasn't bad news for her, it could still be bad. "What is the problem? Clearly if this did happen, Dr. Baltar never did anything with the knowledge." And that burned her, but she clamped down on that as soon as the thought came to her.

Riker stepped around the small office, clearly trying to find a way to say something unpleasant. "Lt. Cmdr. Gaeta has confessed to violating the Prime Directive. He hasn't been asked to detail his actions because… frankly, his mental stability has been in question. I've seen the reports from our ship counselor. He's suicidal, suffering from post traumatic stress disorder and survivor guilt and Captain Picard didn't want to play into that guilt by pushing the issue. Particularly when there isn't much evidence. Mr. Gaeta did say that he had plotted your route, but if the route came in part from the hologram program in your Temple of Athena…"

"The route this fleet took was decided by me. Admiral Adama took his orders from me, and not from a lieutenant." Roslin let her voice edge into steely coldness. "Mr. Gaeta was a valued advisor, saying anything else would be a lie, but be assured, Cmdr. Riker, that the course to Earth was my decision, and I did what the gods told me."

The best sort of lies were the ones that were mostly true.

Riker seemed to mentally adjust himself with a nod of his head. "Yes, I understand that your faith… your visions… are something you believe in." He was good at covering his feelings, Laura had to give him that. "My point, Madame President, is that the route, and Mr. Gaeta's confession, doesn't rise to a significant violation. You would have gotten here without him. He didn't reveal himself as being from Earth, he didn't do anything but use star charts that you found. You don't use warp technology but you are space faring so it can be argued that in your case the prime directive doesn't apply. It barely rises to a reprimand."

"Why do I sense there's a but?" Laura asked softly.

"Writing down instructions on how to recreate our technology…." Riker sighed. "I understand the temptation, but even if Dr. Baltar ignored it, someone could have picked it up and done terrible things with it. Imagine if your enemies had found written instructions on how to create our drives or our weapons. Leaving evidence of higher technology is a serious violation."

"How serious?" Roslin asked. The fact that Riker was so intent meant it didn't bode well for Gaeta, she could see that. Troi merely nodded and looked at Riker as well.

"The fact that it wasn't used is a plus," Riker said after a moment. "It would mean a court martial. Possibly some prison time but minimal. While it shouldn't matter, his family is highly placed, and the circumstances would have to be taken into account as well. He'd have to leave Starfleet."

"Some welcome home," Laura said. " A court martial and prison. And yet you seem surprised at the idea he's suicidal."

"No one wants this, Madame President." Riker's tone took on a hard edge. "But its our duty to investigate it. Are Dr. Baltar's papers available to look at? That could settle this easily."

"They're in his old lab, and no, its not available to you." Laura thought fast. "We don't have a signed treaty. Dr. Baltar was a lot of things, and one of those things is a genuine scientific prodigy. Until we have a treaty, what little scientific research we have is off limits."

Riker took that in with a blink of his eyes. "That's understood. Of course, I need to make a report to Captain Picard. And… to maintain the chain of evidence, do you want to discuss setting guards by the laboratory, or would you like me to broach that subject with Admiral Adama?"

Laura had to admit, the man was clever. "I'm sure you'll see the Admiral first." Riker smirked slightly as he left, leaving her alone with Ambassador Troi. Which was awkward.

"He's not lying, by the way." Troi said it matter of factly. " Will, that is. He has to investigate a charge, because that's his duty. But no one wants to look very hard."

"How do you know that?" Laura asked.

"Well, I am a telepath," Troi said brightly. "And I know Will. And if you really think about it, you know I'm right. After all, it's patently ridiculous that there's only one person in this entire little fleet of the damned that knows how to start the engine. And Jean-Luc is well aware of the capabilities that your Mr. Gaeta possesses and yet no one from Starfleet has even suggested that Mr. Gaeta might've done something. It's… understood that the answer might be unpleasant, and that once it's said out loud, it can't be unsaid." Troi smiled at her. "I'm not known for being discreet. Just the opposite in fact, which makes the reality that I am very discreet all the more amusing to me." She eyed Roslin carefully. "You are hiding something, and I know it has nothing to do with this notebook. If you're smart, you'll continue to be silent."

That was unsettling. "What does that mean?"

Troi shrugged as she stood up. " If it had been me in your position, and a young man came to me and told me he was the child of one of our gods sent to save us and take us to safety, and then demonstrated a power I had never seen before… I'm sure I would have at least listened. And if it happened that the young man did lead us to safety…. I'd feel grateful. Grateful enough to be quiet, and that's a good thing. After all Betazed men and women can't testify to the thoughts of others, just the words."

A warning then, and a surprising one considering that she had a feeling Troi didn't like her at all. "I'll take that under advisement."

"Good." Troi tapped the large box she had brought. "This is for you. The color will match Admiral Adama's eyes. Now I need to be going. I'm teaching a class in Betazed Nude Massage in the pilot barracks." She sniffed with surprise. "To a point, I think you colonials will get along just fine in the Federation. You're a lot more fun."

The woman left with a flourish that Roslin realized was more practiced than she had originally thought. An interesting woman, she thought as she opened the box. Inside was a lovely formal dress, a shade of blue that did indeed match Bill's eyes, and in a style that was amply appropriate for diplomatic talks. Laura grinned as she held up the first new clothes she'd had since the attack on Caprica. She definitely owed the Ambassador from Betazed a favor or two.

Chapter Text

"You want guards on the science lab? To maintain the evidence chain of Lt. Gaeta's possible Prime Directive violation?" Bill Adama didn't like it. And he was coming to the conclusion that he didn't much like Cmdr. Will Riker of Starfleet either. Riker had a smugness about him that set Bill on edge even when what Riker was requesting wasn't high handed.

"The answer is no," he said, enjoying the look of irritation that crossed Riker's face. He kept his voice low so that the crew in the CIC didn't hear. "This is not a Federation ship and we are not under Federation law."

"Not yet," Riker said, his voice taking on a warning note. He drew himself up and squared his shoulders.

It almost made Bill smile. Riker had a tall man's tendency to use his height as leverage. Not a threat, just a hint of a threat, an 'I'm bigger than you so perhaps you should rethink things' sort of gesture. It also confirmed that Riker knew he was asking for something that didn't have to be granted. "The answer is no, Cmdr. Riker. Your request is out of line."

Riker's eyes narrowed. "I can have Captain Picard make this request."

"The answer would still be no." Bill said easily. Much as he suspected, Riker's body posture deflated. Playing the 'I'm bigger' game only worked if you were willing to throw fists over it. Riker probably was a good fighter, a good man to have around in a crisis, but Bill suspected he was badly underestimating his opponent. He didn't consider himself someone who was excellent at the political games of command, but he did know how to play them. Riker didn't seem to realize that.

Riker crossed his arms. "May I ask why?"

"No. You may not." Bill was not surprised that Riker nodded curtly and walked away. A good man, all things considered, and no doubt he was off to report to his captain. Which was a good thing. It gave him time to seek out Laura Roslin. Captain Picard would make the request next, and if refused, would give an order, an order Bill only intended to follow if the president of the colonies agreed to it.

~*~

Kara didn't consider Gaius Baltar a credible source. The man lied about everything. But she was curious to see if he had been telling the truth. Not that she planned to do anything with the knowledge, not really. At least not in a way that would help Baltar. Reg Barclay was nothing but generous about loaning her his padd to look things up. Prison on Earth, even for Prime Directive violations, was ten times better than the average day in the life of the people of the fleet. That was hardly a punishment fit for a usurper of the gods.

So she was in the science lab, looking for a notebook. She wasn't going to take it to the Starfleet officers if she found it. That ultimately would do nothing but remove any chance she had to deal with Gaeta. Plus she had a good feeling that Baltar would use it to his advantage somehow, and the last thing she wanted was to assist that motherfrakker. She just… wanted to be sure. She hadn't been sure before.

If she was going to kill a man, she wanted to be sure she was right. Athena's will was for the usurper to die, to perish before all of the people died with him. She didn't want to be Athena's arrow of death, she understood it was a thankless task that would no doubt send her to the same prison that Gaeta was going. There were worse things. There was letting a false god destroy what was left of her people.

She looked around the lab. It was neat. Much neater than when Baltar had been in charge but that was no shock. Gaeta had always been neat, neat and tidy. Baltar had always been disorganized, not mentally but in every day things Baltar was the sort of man who needed a keeper even when he was psychologically well. Gaeta was different, he was an organized person who labeled all of his clothes and kept files like a master. If it was Gaeta, he would have the notebook filed under 'notebook'. Crossfiled under 'earth',' secret', and 'warp drive', of course. Whereas Dr. Baltar's level of organization meant that she would need to tear the lab apart to find it. Great, she thought as she looked at the files, this could take hours. If the notebook was even there. Gaeta was neat. Baltar likely shoved the book into a filing cabinet but Gaeta had almost a year to find it, and she didn't think Gaeta was a fool. He could have easily found it and destroyed it.

But before she could get started, the hatch door began to turn. She dove under the small desk and pulled the chair to hide herself from whoever it was. The Admiral had been going fairly easy on her, she was able to see that despite her anger. But for what she needed to do, she needed to be out and about, not locked up in the brig for breaking into the lab. She wasn't entirely surprised to see one set of feet in military boots and one set in the civilian attire of one Laura Roslin.

"It won't work forever," she heard Bill Adama say. His feet angled so that he was looking at Roslin. Kara made a point of slowing her breathing. The Admiral and the President thought they were alone, and they were definitely players. Adama continued, "it's my ship and my rules, but you and I both know that there's only so much we can do here. They're asking now. Once the FTL drive is fixed, I don't have any leverage to use."

"And when is that happening?" Roslin asked.

"Within the next few hours. Picard said he'll use their transport technology to make sure that Mr. Gaeta arrives discreetly and without any fanfare. To keep any potential assassins from taking a shot at him." He sighed heavily. " Saul and that damn Circle made us look like monsters."

"We were." Roslin's voice took on an edge. "The decisions I've made, the choices you've had to make… It won't be easy sleeping at night but this is one thing I'd like to have off my conscious."

"I don't understand why he wrote anything down. For Baltar of all people." Adama said it harshly.

"You're mad that he didn't trust you," Roslin said after a moment. Kara found herself nodding to that. Laura Roslin could be a bitch, an ice queen, but she was also often very insightful. The Admiral prided himself on being close to the crew. It no doubt stung the man that Gaeta had lied to him about almost everything.

Laura continued with, "I have a feeling that this notebook was an act of desperation. A failsafe. Something he did to ease his own conscious. Something for just in case. For what it's worth, he didn't trust me either." She laughed suddenly. "The truth, Bill? I don't think Felix Gaeta even likes me. He despises my religious visions, and yet he's intentionally protecting me so that the Federation won't insist that I step down from the government. Right now they only suspect that Gaeta told me he was from Earth. As long as neither of us admit anything, I am protected. I'd like to be able to return the favor."

She knew, Kara thought suddenly. She knew and believed him. In the prophecy the usurper was a liar, a trickster. The Federation seemed pleasant enough but if the prophecy was correct, then the colonies were doomed.

"I want to return the favor as well, but this isn't the Quorum we're dealing with." Adama sounded worried. "Once the FTL drive is fixed, I have no reason to refuse their request to look for evidence. And they will assume that we're stalling to hide the evidence. They already think that's what we're doing. And if we tear this room apart, they're going to know we were looking for the notebook. So how important is this to you? Because if I need to, I can take a flamethrower to this room and handle it. I'm not overly concerned about being asked to step down." Kara was surprised to hear him laugh. "I was retiring after years in disgrace after all. If we move to a Federation colony, it's not as though you'll need much of a standing military."

"You'd let someone take over? Lee perhaps?" Laura asked, clearly not believing it.

"No one lives forever, Laura. Although I had the impression that you were considering Lee for a role in the government?" A sigh. "He'd be happier there."

"I had some ideas for him, I must admit. I get the impression you're not horrified by the idea." Roslin managed to sound amused, Kara noted. She personally wasn't surprised. Lee had always been unhappy in the military and it was just surprising that Bill Adama was able to admit it. "If you're letting me have Lee, who do you intend to take over the colonial military?"

"Kara." Adama said it so quickly, Kara was amazed. "She's not ready, not yet, but she's the best of the officer core. If she doesn't want it, then Karl Agathon." He paused. "My third pick was Felix Gaeta, and I don't have a fourth. I know if I ask Lee, he'd take command and hate it, and do a damn good job and… He'd be unhappy. I'm his father. I don't want him to be unhappy. He'd do a good job, but not an excellent job, and he'd be unhappy and things are such that… I don't want my son to be unhappy. Kara and Helo and even Felix would enjoy the job of running the military. Lee wouldn't."

"I hope you tell him that before you give the job to Kara." Laura said. "He needs to hear it, I think."

Before Adama could answer, the ship loudspeaker began to chime. The nervous voice of Lindsay Alghee sounded, "Action Stations! Action Stations! An unknown ship has appeared! Action Stations!"

Kara wasn't surprised that both of them ran to the door. She waited until they left to look about. An unknown ship was most likely a Federation ship so she figured she had a few moments. If I was Felix Gaeta, she asked herself as she went to one of the filing cabinets, where would I put a notebook for people to find, just in case I died.

She opened the filing cabinet and looked under 'earth'. Sure enough, along with a lot of navigation charts, tucked away in the back was a small blue covered wire bound notebook. She flipped through it, taking enough of the equations to understand that yes, Felix Gaeta had written down the route to Earth, and enough of the drawings to see that Federation technology was very different. But best of all, it made her right.

Felix Gaeta had given Gaius Baltar Federation technology. That meant he was the usurper of the prophecy of the Scroll of Apollo was indeed Felix Gaeta. And he was soon to be brought over to the Galactica to fix the FTL drive.

Kara smiled. The nice thing about prophecy, she mused, was that it gave a person a chance to make it right.

Chapter Text

It was just a matter of time, Picard thought as he looked at the Romulan war bird that had decloaked in front of the Enterprise. They had originally been patrolling close to the Neutral Zone because of reports of unusual activity by the Romulans. Now it was obvious that the Romulans had been tracking the massive fleets that had been tickling around the edges of their territory. Felix Gaeta had threaded the needle very carefully with his navigation coordinates, but the Romulans were always watching their borders. Picard also doubted that the Cylons tracking the human fleet had been as careful with their ship movements as Gaeta had been. They didn't know that there was a threat, and they had similar scanning capabilities as the colonials which meant they never would have noticed cloaked Romulans trailing them.

The problem now was what to do. The Romulans were violating the terms of their treaty, but only just, and would make a reasonable argument about being curious. It wasn't one of their larger ships, he had no doubt that in a fight, the Enterprise would easily win. The problem would be the collateral damage to the colonial fleet. The Romulans already knew that the ships were essentially defenseless and no doubt suspected some sort of different technology. Which they would no doubt love to get their hands on. The safest thing to do would be to move the colonial fleet deeper into Federation territory.

"I've advised both the colonial fleet and the Cylon base star to not launch their fighter ships," Data said as Picard looked over the sensor readings. "Admiral Adama has advised that the civilian ships are preparing their FTL jump sequences. The acting commander of the Cylon basestar, a Six, advised that they will not attack and that they should have function restored with their drive within an hour."

"Good. Advise them to stand by. Then contact Captain Gaeta and tell her to get back to her ship as soon as possible." Data nodded without looking up from his work with just a quiet 'aye captain' as acknowledgement. The situation didn't need elaboration. The colonial fleet could easily move deeper into Federation territory, and he would send the Tom Dooley with the fleet. The Tom Dooley would warp ahead and the colonial fleet would meet it in seconds. There were some other relief vessels on their way, and the Romulans weren't foolish enough to give chase.

The problem was the Galactica and to a lesser extent the Cylon base star. The Romulans were currently just interested in the ships, he suspected, and possibly thinking that the colonial ships had been spying on behalf of the Federation. Once they saw the civilian ships jump, they would become more than curious, they would start considering the risks in taking over the remaining ships. It would technically be an act of war but that was unlikely to stop the Romulans if they thought it would get them something valuable. They could also argue that they were justified. The colonial fleet may not have crossed the border into the Neutral Zone but the Cylons might have, and the Cylons weren't distinguishable enough from humans for it to matter to the Romulans. There was also the fact that there was no treaty with either the colonials or the Cylons, they were just in talks about it. So an argument could be made that the Romulans were merely dealing with an incursion on their border. It wouldn't hold up in a court, but the Romulans would argue it for as long as they could and meanwhile would be developing the FTL drive into a formidable weapon. He had seen the possibilities himself. It wouldn't compete with warp drive for long range work but he had already considered how smaller vehicles like a runabout could simply jump between shields. The Romulans would find that interesting and no doubt useful as well. And by the time the Federation held the Romulans legally accountable, the new weapon systems would be developed.

That was certainly the last thing they needed. "Hail the Romulan ship, Mr. Data." he said. The view screen almost immediately came up with the image of a male Romulan captain. They had been waiting for the hail then. " I am Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the USS Enterprise. You are violating the terms of your treaty and will remove your vessel at once."

The Romulan captain shrugged. "Oh come now. I thought humans were more…. Romantic about borders and lines in the sand. Why just watching these quaint ships sinking their toes in and out of our territory for the last month or so… I can't help but be shocked by how annoyed you are." The Romulan smirked. " I am Captain Dar Skivar of the Thrai. And I think the Federation has some explaining to do. As I understand the treaty, spying is wrong. And there's fifty or so of these ships that have spent a great deal of time observing our territory."

"These people are refugees from a previously unknown series of human colonies in the Beta Quadrant. We believe they are the remnants of a Preserver seeded society. They are not spies and they have not violated your territory and you most certainly have violated ours." Of course the Romulans weren't so deep in Federation territory that they couldn't later argue that a mistake was made while tracking the colonial fleet. "They'll be moving away from the Neutral Zone as soon as some engine difficulty is resolved."

That would explain why the entire fleet had been moving at sublight for the last ten days.

"Perhaps." Skivar smiled slightly. "Perhaps I'm having engine difficulty as well. Surely you'll allow me a small amount of time to deal with it?"

Which wasn't an unreasonable request so close to the border, one that Federation and Romulan granted as long as the situation wasn't suspicious. He was certain that Skivar was lying, he was certain that in a clash that the Enterprise would win, but the Romulan ship could take out a lot of the colonial fleet with very little effort. "Of course. Do you require any assistance?"

"No, although your courtesy is most appreciated." Skivar ended the communication.

Time to get things moving, Picard thought. "Mr. Data, advise Cmdr. Gaeta to meet me in my briefing room."

~*~

He knew it was coming. He had been dreading returning to the Galactica. There were so many lies that he had to apologize for… Admiral Adama had been so angry. He had seen Adama's hand clench into a fist when he had said that he was a Starfleet officer and it was only Laura Roslin's quick thinking in grabbing the older man's arm that had stopped Adama from pounding him bloody. The Admiral was a good man, but notorious for that moment where he snapped in rage.

Going back to the Galactica was necessary though. It completed the task. Once the Galactica could jump, then it could move to safety and the journey could truly end. So he would have to grit his teeth and deal with it, and hope that most of the people he knew hadn't decided that he was some sort of religious figure. It didn't help that releasing the Galactica's FTL computers was going to look a lot like an old time laying on of hands. Fortunately most of it would be in the core and not the CIC.

As it was, it was truly amusing just how accurate the Scroll of Apollo had really been. He assumed Serena would get a nice paper in the journals out of that at least. He was just waiting for the rocks to metaphorically fall. Something was going to happen. Something bad, most likely. For the most part, the Scroll of Apollo didn't end well.

And he wasn't exactly the luckiest man in the world.

He stepped into the briefing room, surprised to see that it was just Picard. No, he told himself, you shouldn't be surprised. Jean Luc Picard had been trying very hard to help him, so much so that he was convinced that the Arrow of Apollo was going to come from a colonial source, and not Starfleet.

"You requested to see me, sir." He stood at attention. It was obvious why. Romulans were dangerous and the entire fleet was in danger. They needed to jump and soon.

"Cmdr. Gaeta, I am sending you to the Galactica. The FTL system is still unrepaired and your assistant Lt. Alghee apparently isn't capable of fixing it." His eyes seemed to bore holes into him. "I won't ask what may be wrong with the colonial FTL drive because asking any details would be a violation of the trust that the people of the Twelve Colonies have given the Federation."

He knew, Felix thought tiredly, and he wanted to avoid knowing officially. He had heard of such things happening. "I understand, sir."

"Good, because without telling me what may be wrong, I want your best estimate and your worst as to how long it will take you to fix the Galactica." Picard gestured to the ship's window, where the Romulan ship was visible. "Urgency is an issue."

"Without interruption, maybe an hour." He knew there would be interruption. "More like two, if I have to look at the core computers. And if the system is… difficult, the worst case scenario is three hours." The system was likely to balk at his commands, that had always been the problem. The Galactica liked to please, but like a old dog, once it learned a trick, it didn't want to do anything but that trick. "Faster is better, I know."

"No. Get it done, but make sure there's no chance of failure." Picard said it easily. "You've brought these people almost all the way, this isn't the time to break concentration. Now, you'll be transporting over to the Galactica with Major Adama. I'm concerned that the communications system is too primitive to stand against the Romulans so he'll be briefing the Admiral on the plan. The Tom Dooley is going to depart to a position closer to the nearest Federation outpost and the colonial fleet will jump to those coordinates. I want to hold off exposing the Romulans to the FTL drive for as long as possible."

"They'll see the value instantly," Gaeta said.

"Which is why the sooner the Galactica is able to leave, the better." Picard said. Then, "One thing, before you go to Transporter Three. The FTL computers… You won't be required to access the science lab on the Galactica to accomplish this task, correct?"

"Yes sir…"

"Good. You are not to enter the science lab." Picard eyed him carefully. "That is an order, Mr. Gaeta."

"Understood, sir." But for the life of him, he couldn't figure out where Picard was going with it. There was nothing in the science lab but research that would be considered antiquated by Federation standards.

Not that it mattered anyway. He was ready to finish it.

Chapter Text

Bill Adama stepped into his quarters. He wasn't surprised to find Cmdr. Riker there, and Captain Gaeta waiting. The new ship, the Romulan ship, was one of the Federation's enemies and it was used to fighting ships that were armed like the Enterprise. Which meant the entire fleet was in danger if the Romulans decided to attack. "When is Captain Picard going to send Mr. Gaeta over?"

They were at the point where he was tired of dancing around it.

Riker nodded, his expression grim. "He intends to transport Cmdr. Gaeta and Major Adama here. To your quarters."

Transport. That would certainly be less obvious than sending a shuttlecraft, and quicker, if he understood the process, but…"Can't that be tracked? By the Romulans? And interfered with?"

"It can be, but it's highly unlikely that the Romulans would find two crewmen transporting that interesting." Riker said as he took a seat on the leather couch. "They're more likely to listen to the chatter between the ships which is why Captain Picard is being very careful with what he says. We'll be getting a quick update of the plan from Mr. Gaeta, I'm certain."

"Then I'll transport to my ship." Sophia said easily. "The Romulans will be suspicious but frankly, that's their natural setting. I'm surprised they didn't show themselves sooner."

It was unstated that Riker and Picard, and Bill himself for that matter, assumed the Romulans could listen in to their wireless broadcasts. Not that they would hear very much that was interesting. Emergency jump coordinates had been dispersed to the fleet several days ago, it was just a matter of telling them which set to use. Riker's combadge chimed. Bill waited patiently as the man discussed the transport. He had seen a video example of transporting. He wasn't entirely comfortable with the idea yet.

There was a sudden flash of light, followed by colorful sparkling that slowly materialized into two forms, and then became Lee and Felix Gaeta. Lee looked surprised just for a moment and then grinned boyishly. " Helo was right, that does feel great." He drew himself up to a position of attention. "Admiral Adama, I respectfully suggest we ask for a transporter at some point."

Riker smirked at that, but Adama ignored it. Lee seemed well. Worried looking but no worse for wear from having been deconstructed down to the atomic level and reassembled, if he understood the transporter technology correctly. In fact Lee looked… refreshed. Enlivened somehow. As if a heavy burden had been lifted and of course it had.

Which made Lee a startling contrast to Gaeta. It was jarring to see Gaeta in the uniform of a Starfleet officer. More jarring that the man looked physically ill. Worse, Gaeta looked like he expected to be yelled at. Of course he expected to be yelled at, Adama thought with more than a little regret. The last time you saw the man, you were ready to pound him bloody. Between the anger he'd shown, and the previous murder attempts by the crew, it was no wonder Gaeta looked terrified.

"Major Adama… Cmdr. Gaeta, it's good to see you both. I assume you have a plan to advise me on?" He wasn't surprised to see them both tense.

"I'm here to assist in fixing the FTL drive, sir" Gaeta said after a moment. "Unfortunately, I don't know how long that will take, and Captain Picard is concerned that the longer we stay here the more likely that the Romulans will want to investigate the fleet." He paused. "While it's possible this Romulan ship is by itself… It's very likely that there are other Romulan ships in the area."

"They have stealth technology," Lee added, and over his shoulder, Bill saw Riker and Sophia Gaeta nodding to that. "The plan is to have the Tom Dooley warp to the emergency jump coordinates that we've already distributed to the fleet. Once the Cylon basestar is able to jump, then it and the fleet will jump to the Tom Dooley's position. That's deeper within Federation space and there are other Federation ships moving to that position as well, so even if the Romulans were able to track the fleet, they are not likely to follow us deeper into Federation space."

"Right now they can excuse their presence as curiosity," Riker added. "Moving deeper into Federation space would be considered an act of war."

"The Enterprise would stay here with the Galactica, until the Galactica is ready to jump. Captain Picard wants to time this so that we're not sitting here for a lengthy amount of time." Lee glanced at Gaeta. "For safety reasons, Captain Picard thinks the fleet should move as soon as possible. The condition of the civilian ships means that it would take very little for the Romulan ship to cause a lot of damage. The problem is the time between the fleet jumping and the Galactica jumping."

"And how long will that be, Mr. Gaeta?" Adama asked.

"I don't know," Gaeta said. "It might be hours. It is certainly safer for the civilian fleet to jump ahead. Romulans can be very aggressive."

"And sneaky," Riker added, " and the second the Romulans see the jump, they will understand that it has value. At the same time, there's over fifty ships in this fleet and many of them are in poor condition. The Enterprise can handle one Romulan war bird easily. This is one of their older ships. However, it's possible that there's two or three more that we aren't seeing."

"Moving the civilian fleet removes targets," Adama mused. "But the Romulans will become much more interested in the Galactica once they see the jump." He saw the necessity though and Picard's reasoning. He only wished the civilians on the Galactica could be moved without raising suspicion. It was unrealistic and impossible though. By the time the three hundred or so civilians were even organized to leave, the civilian fleet would already be jumping. "How likely is it that the Romulans will board us?

If they were aggressive and if they had the same transporters, then they would board. It was the obvious plan, the first thing he'd do himself if he had that sort of technology.

"That would be an act of war," Riker said after a moment of thought. "They're aggressive, but they don't want a war with the Federation."

"They wouldn't get one by boarding the Galactica, sir." Gaeta turned to Riker. "There's no treaty with the people of the Twelve Colonies and even if President Roslin did sign it right now, it would be arguable how legal an action that is. If they've been monitoring transmissions then they know they aren't dealing with Federation members. We're close enough to the border that they could argue that it was a mistake later." He looked back at Adama. "Under those circumstances, they might consider boarding. To see if the technology could be stolen. I doubt they have the personnel in an older war bird for an actual take over."

"If there's more than one war bird though," Riker stood up and paced. "That's a good thought Mr. Gaeta." To Adama he said, "Our people do have hand held phasers."

"My people are armed as well." Sophia added.

A nice offer, Bill thought, but he wasn't going to risk the ship based on the notion that forty or so Starfleet officers with sidearms would save the ship. Particularly since most of them were medical personnel. Doctors and nurses weren't by nature the best in a fight. "I've got plenty of men and women who can patrol the ship." Still, it was rude to dismiss it. "I'd like your people to center their attention on the civilian population. I'd hate for us to be so close and have something happen to the civilians on board." He'd also hate explaining how some Starfleet officer got killed on his ship. "Major Adama, I want you to get everyone organized. Anyone who has a sidearm needs to get it. I want roaming patrols of marines through out the ship, and I want the pilots to join them. They aren't going to be needed to fly if there's an attack. Mr. Gaeta, where will you need to go to… fix the FTL drive?"

Gaeta looked embarrassed. " I don't know… the CIC to start but I think I'll need to see the actual drive."

Which told Adama something that the Starfleet officers wouldn't realize. Felix Gaeta had many duties on board the Galactica and none of them involved him working in the bowels of the ship. "A marine escort has been arranged." He looked at the small group. "I think we all have things we need to do. Mr. Gaeta, I want a word with you. Privately."

Riker looked annoyed but didn't say anything. Sophia Gaeta patted Felix as she walked by but said nothing, and Lee managed to look stressed and worried. "We don't have a lot of time, sir."

"I'm aware of that, Major." He waited until he heard the hatch door close to turn his attention back to Gaeta. He leaned against his desk. "So what did you do to my ship, Mr. Gaeta?"

"I… told it to stop. And not to jump again until I say it's all right." Gaeta crossed his arms and looked down at his feet. "It's not easy to explain. The term scientists use is technopathy. It's an ability I have… because of my non human ancestry."

"On New Caprica, it's how you gained access to the communication codes." He waited until Gaeta nodded. "You told President Roslin you were transmitting jump coordinates this way."

"Yes. Not always but when the jumps needed to be done fast…." Gaeta continued to look down. "I didn't mean for this to happen, sir. I thought… the ship always fought me on this command. I knew it would stop the jump process but I thought… that it would wear off. I know that's made things more difficult to negotiate."

Interesting. "Mr. Gaeta, are you apologizing for bringing us to Earth?" That was almost humorous.

Gaeta looked at him with surprise. "I'm apologizing because I created a problem that you can't fix, sir. Because not telling you what I had done and what I had planned left you in an awkward position. I should have trusted you with my secret and my plan."

Adama made a point of taking out two glasses from his desk and poured two drinks of ambrosia. "It has occurred to me lately, Mr. Gaeta, that I have neglected your education as an officer." He handed one of the glasses to Gaeta and sipped his own. "Never apologize for making the right decision. You made the right decision."

"Sir?" Gaeta eyed him nervously.

"You made the right decision. Going to President Roslin and playing on her religious beliefs… I would have locked you up in the brig if you told me you were some part alien from Earth, but not before I had Cottle give you a few electroshocks to the brain to make you see reason. And then where would we have all ended up?" He had thought about that, more than once after Roslin had explained what she had known.

"Romulan camps…" Gaeta suddenly gulped his drink down. "New Caprica would have been a picnic."

"You were right about that too," Adama said after a moment. "Not entirely right…but close enough that it doesn't matter. If you had told me about the Circle… I would have made sure you were telling the truth, and everyone would have gotten a warning, and nothing more. I needed everyone working, and the president had already pardoned everyone." He didn't think he needed to be more blunt. Pilots had been needed more than junior bridge officers, and Gaeta had always made a point of stepping back when a truly ambitious officer would have stepped forward. "Why weren't you a pilot? Seems like this gift you have would let you be a pretty good viper pilot."

He had a suspicion why.

"I would have been too good," Gaeta said after a moment. "People would have been curious. Medically there's a number of things about my physiology that would be… anomalous and I couldn't take the risk of exposing the Twelve Colonies to the reality that non human life forms exist. And it was never my intent to have a lengthy military career in the colonial military. I can hide my abilities but not if I attract attention. The best way to avoid attention is to be average, and there's no way to mask ability in a Viper cockpit. Without getting killed."

" You don't seem happy to not be hiding," Adama observed. The only person he'd seen look less happy recently was Kara, and Kara was a whole different problem.

Gaeta shrugged. " I doubt you would understand, sir."

"Give it a try," Adama said as he refreshed their drinks. He was aware of the time ticking by, but the situation wasn't going to get dire until the civilian fleet jumped. He wanted to make sure he was about to make the right decision.

"Everyone knows my name," Gaeta said softly. "Everyone knows what I am. If you don't know me, you can read scientific papers about me, and about what I can do, and about my entire family. Admiral Kirk killing my grandfather is a fleet legend. Until I was twenty three, I can't remember a week going by without someone wanting a demonstration of something. I'm different, I'm genetically superior to a human being, I have talents that don't exist in the human race, and on Earth, it's not necessarily a good thing to be." He gulped down the second drink. "My parents always made being different a badge of honor, but the truth sir? Most people are interested in what I am, and not who I am. And then a wormhole opened up while I was doing an experiment in a runabout, and I ended up on the wrong side of the Beta Quadrant with people who had no idea what I was. I had to hide, and maybe… it was scary and hard, but living on Caprica, being a marine and then a deck officer on the Valkyrie and the Galactica… It was the first time I could ever be someone in the crowd. If I did or didn't have friends, if I got promoted or not… it was because of me, and not because someone wanted my talents around. And then the Cylons attacked, and I had to make a choice, and I hesitated." He look at Adama intently. "We shouldn't have stopped at New Caprica, and if I had tried, I probably could have convinced you. But I didn't, because I didn't want to interfere, the Prime Directive may sound cruel but it's there for a reason…. After New Caprica, I knew where we were going and I decided that enough people had died so I told President Roslin who I really was. Now everyone knows… I heard there's a lot of religious upheaval already." He shrugged. " I really should get to work, sir…"

Guilt, Adama realized. Felix Gaeta felt guilty for not doing enough. "Dr. Baltar made an accusation against you. To the Betazed ambassador. That you gave him a notebook of jump coordinates and technical drawings."

Gaeta's eyes widened in surprise. "I did what?" Then he seemed to reach back for the memory. "I… thought… I was really out of it….But that could have happened." If anything, Gaeta looked relieved. "He gave the notebook to the Federation ambassador?"

"No. He said it was in his papers in the research lab." Adama looked at him. "I haven't allowed any access to the lab. I can see to it that there's nothing to find." Roslin was right. Gaeta didn't deserve a prison sentence for saving them.

"But…" Gaeta looked both surprised and touched. "They'll know you're hiding something if you've restricted access. I don't know where it is, you'd have to tear the room apart." He straightened up. "It's my problem sir."

"You don't deserve prison for this, Felix." As he said it, Adama made peace with the consequences. He had been about to retire five years ago anyway. Tigh could take over, at least until Kara or Helo were ready. He understood the consequences. The Federation would insist he step down if they thought he had been complicate in hiding a Prime Directive violation.

"I assure you sir, that unless things have changed a great deal, the Federation Penal Colony on New Zealand is more pleasant than living on the Galactica for the last few years has been." Gaeta waited a moment. "More importantly, sir, you haven't neglected my education as an officer at all. I did this. I knew the consequences. I violated my oath to Starfleet. The only reason I haven't spelled out in detail exactly what I told President Roslin is because the people need her in office until the new colony is firmly established. They need you, too, and I won't deprive them of you." He took a deep breath. "Sometimes you have to roll a hard six, sir."

Chapter Text

Lee had to admit, there was a big part of him that was glad to be back on the Galactica. The Enterprise was very plush and the people were very pleasant and in a way it was like staying in a very nice hotel. It was fun, and interesting, something he sensed he could get used to easily, but he sensed that there was one fight left for the fleet before they were truly safe. He didn't want to be sitting in comfort on the Enterprise for that. The military wasn't going to be his life, he could sense that doors were already starting to open, not just for him, but for everyone, but he wanted to be on the Galactica for the last fight.

He looked at the pilots assembled in the briefing room and for just a moment his vision wavered. He knew them all, of course. There weren't many pilots he hadn't help train, only a rare few who had been among the original crew when the attack on Caprica had occurred. He let himself smile. It was good to be home.

"As you all know, there is a Romulan ship observing the fleet." He made sure to school his features to look more intent. There were a lot of smiles on the faces of the pilots and he didn't want that at all. Over confidence could kill and they were too damn close to real safety to have anyone die. "The fleet will soon be jumping to a position deeper in Federation. The Galactica will jump as soon as the FTL drive is ready, but that may take some time. There is a possibility that the Romulans will try to board the Galactica using the transport technology that they and the Federation possess. As our ships would be useless against the Romulan weapons, the Admiral has given us a different task. The marines are currently taking up armed positions all over the ship. We will be formed into two person roaming patrols." He paused. "We are not taking prisoners." He tapped the large photo of a typical Romulan. "Take a good look. Romulans look very much like Vulcans, although obviously they wear different uniforms. The Vulcan Starfleet personnel are with Dr. Cottle in medical. They will be in uniform and they will identify themselves as Starfleet. However its unlikely to be a problem since we will be patrolling the lower decks. Mr. Worf will brief us on the basic attributes of Romulan soldiers."

Worf stepped up to the podium. He glared out at the assembled pilots. "A Romulan Centurian is a formidable enemy. Like Vulcans, they are stronger and faster than humans, and unlike Vulcans, they embrace their emotions. A Romulan is clever and insidious. They will plead for mercy if cornered and then stab you with concealed weapons. They are not to be trusted."

"So," one of the pilots called out, "Where's the best place to shoot?"

It made Lee smile despite it all.

~*~

Reg fumbled with the phaser and dropped it. It clanged on the metal floor and he dove to pick it up but it skidded on the bulkhead into a dark, metallic hole. By the time he had pried it out of the hole in the decking, the group of Starfleet officers had turned into the maze of corridors and disappeared.

Ok, he told himself, this isn't a big deal. Sure, there was a Romulan ship eying the Galactica, but really, it seemed unlikely that the Romulans would board. He was smart, he knew where he was supposed to be and there were supposed to be roaming patrols of pilots. The Galactica was huge but simply laid out. I'm not a child, Reg told himself, I can find the civilian quarters.

But fifteen minutes later, he found himself staring at the corridor, wondering where he was. Don't panic, he told himself as he started to hyperventilate. Just because Kara had joked about nuggets getting lost in the bowels of the ship and only mummified remains ever being found, that didn't mean it was true. Let's try just following a corridor, he decided. That worked until the corridor ended at a split. Left or right or go back, he wondered nervously.

"Mad Dog?" Reg jumped at the sound and turned around. He had been so involved in where he was going, he hadn't noticed the three pilots coming up behind him. One was Racetrack, who he knew and who had used his call sign, and the other two were young men who looked just out of their teens. Racetrack smiled at him. "Aren't you supposed to be with the other Starfleet people? Defending the civilians and all that?"

"I uh… got separated…." He knew better than say he'd gotten lost. It hadn't escaped him how the colonials found people getting lost on the Galactica to be hilarious. He could see Racetrack pick that up with a knowing look although the two young men seemed to accept it at face value.

"Ok, why don't you help me out?" She gestured to the two men. "We're supposed to be in teams but I ended up odd man out. We could make another roaming patrol."

"Yeah," one of the young men said, "We need the help."

"Besides," Ractrack said, "You're one of us, not one of them anyway. You've got a call sign and everything."

"Right," the other young pilot said. "You don't want to go hide with the civilians do you?"

"Well…." He really didn't have a problem with defending the civilians against a possible Romulan attack.

"Come on," Racetrack said, grabbing his arm. "Mad Dog is with me. We'll head down this way." She pulled him down the right hand corridor, and he realized after a moment that she was trying not to laugh. Finally she said, between chuckles, "Do you know how many times I've had to ditch people in the last two weeks?"

"At least twice that I know of," he replied, "Are you sure you don't want to ditch me? I did get lost."

She swatted him playfully. "I know you got lost, Reg. And no, I like you. You can carry a conversation about something other than my breasts or how good a pilot you are. Have you read the Lord of the Rings?"

"Yes. You know, there's more books… The Silmarillon, and the histories of Middle Earth." He grinned shyly as Racetrack's face lit up.

"There's more books?" Racetrack grabbed him and pulled him down the corridor. "So obviously while we wait for the Romulans to attack, you and I are going to discuss this. Do you think they'll attack? I was wondering what someone from Starfleet who wasn't… you know, on the spot."

"I don't know," he answered honestly. "They're aggressive, but they aren't mindless. I… I was never very good at this sort of question. It could happen if they think the FTL is worth taking." He paused. "It is worth taking. There's a lot of things worth taking though."

"Really?" Racetrack asked. "I had the impression you guys were… Being pretty polite about how nasty and primitive things are here. I mean… you've seen the showers. It's pretty gross."

"I know," and he shuddered despite himself. "But the FTL drive is really valuable. And so are other things."

"Like what?" SHe was so honestly perplexed, he almost smiled.

He touched the shoulder of her flight suit. "Like this. Your flight suits are… amazing. It's like comfortable clothing that you can wear in space. The FTL drive is going to buy your people a lot of good will, but a space suit with thin gloves and hardly any bulk? I mentioned it in my report." He was surprised at how easy it was to talk to Racetrack.

She smiled at him and took his hand. "I like you, Reg. You think about things that I never would have considered." They settled into a companionable silence until they turned the corner.

On the wall of the corridor was a large mural. Reg wasn't one for art, but it was a powerful image. One he didn't expect to find on the Galactica. "That's… odd."

"It's new," Racetrack said, her soft tone gone. She touched a corner. "The paint is wet." She looked at it. "I've seen this…."

"You have?" He looked at her with real curiosity. "You've seen a wormhole?"

"A what? No…Reg, this is from the scripture." She looked at it more intently. "I've seen this. In the Scrolls… in a lot of the scrolls, there are symbols on the pages, like illustrations. Some people think they are clues to how the prophecies will really unfold. I saw this in the Scroll of Apollo. That's the one that everyone is reading. Because of Lt. Gaeta."

He had picked up the basics of the story and the pieces seemed to coalesce as he stared at the painting. "Racetrack… Margeret…. This is what a wormhole looks like. A wormhole is…. It's how Felix ended up in the colonies. A wormhole opened up while he was running an experiment in a runabout and it opened up and swallowed up his ship….."

"No," Racetrack said. " I mean, I know that, but this… is a symbol of a vortex. It was in the Temple of Jupiter." She hesitated. "Look, I'm not religious. I never went to the temple unless my parents made me. But…. There's something going on here. We found Kobol… and Athena's Tomb led us to Earth, and however it happened, that was prophesized. I don't think Felix Gaeta is some god… he fraks up too much… But this…" she gestured to the swirling void. "It was prophesized. And a lot of it has come true, and… there's a lot of endings to this. And a lot of them aren't good. Things are in motion."

The question, Reg realized, was whether they could do anything to affect the outcome. 

Chapter Text

Sgt. Venner kept his hands on his rifle, one finger on the trigger, and the thumb on the same hand tight against the rifle's safety. It was standard procedure, how a marine carried a rifle in a crowd that was calm, but potentially violent. He looked over the various people in the CIC alertly.

It made Felix nervous. Ostensibly Venner was "assisting" him and Lt. Alghee, but it was clear that Venner's idea of assistance was watching for assassins. It was ostentatious, it drew even more attention to him, and ultimately Felix was certain it wouldn't work. If someone really wanted to kill him in the CIC, he had no doubt that it could happen. Boomer had proven that point years earlier. He wasn't afraid of being killed, not really. He wasn't suicidal, he knew that, but he was worried about two things. First, that someone was going to make the attempt to kill him, and that it would end up killing other people. Venner was going to shoot, he didn't doubt that at all, and there were a lot of people in the CIC. The other fear he had was that he would be killed, and before the Galactica was convinced to jump. The commands would wear off eventually. If there was time, if they were already deep in Federation territory, the wait wouldn't matter, but the Romulans were watching and waiting. If he was killed before he released the commands, the Galactica would be dead in the water.

He didn't think that would happen. He wasn't religious and he certainly didn't believe in the idea that the Scroll of Apollo was a prophecy from his grandfather. That was ridiculous and massively egotistical. At the same time, he couldn't shake the feeling that something had been manipulating things. It had been the luck of the draw that he had been the one sent out in the runabout that day so long ago. He had been the first to show up for duty, with no idea that Lt. Cmdr. Krepovich was even planning an experiment. If he had stopped for a coffee instead of making sure to be early, he wouldn't have been in the runabout at all. Krepovich had been annoyed that his assistant, a lieutenant, was late and wanted to teach the woman a lesson by letting one of the raw ensigns do the experiment. For years, he had thought it was bad luck, followed by some good, that he had been lost in the Beta quadrant but lucky enough to find a human culture. Then the Cylons had attacked and things had gotten… odd. He didn't believe in God or gods, but too many things had fallen into place. There were too many coincidences, too many things that hadn't seemed unusual by themselves but once he put the pieces together… something was going on. Someone, or something, was manipulating the colonials through the story in the Scroll of Apollo. Possibly to save them.

Which meant that he would fix the Galactica. At least in theory. He looked at the FTL workstation, and tried to ignore the obvious stares. "It seems to be working just fine here," he said to Alghee.

"It does everything right until we start to spin the drive," Alghee said earnestly. "Then it just… doesn't go." She managed to look puzzled, worried, nervous, and cheerful all at once. He made sure to smile back at her. He liked Lindsay Alghee, he had been the one to recommend her to the CIC after New Caprica, but she was clearly overwhelmed by her new job. Of course, she had been in the unlucky position of having to take over all of his duties. She was bright, and eager, and he was beginning to think that she had a touch of hero worship for him. Or a crush. She quickly moved to his side. "What should we do?"

"Let me take a look," he said as he pulled open the console. He could feel the eyes of everyone in CIC on him, and despite himself, he blushed. It was fortunate in many ways that using his abilities was in appearance at least, a very mundane thing to watch. He put his hands down into the console and concentrated.

It's ok to jump. You did everything right and everyone is happy. I'm very happy with you. I said not to jump and you did that just right but now I need you to jump…

He could feel the metal balking at his commands, balking so much it he almost winced from the force of it. The Galactica was a stiff, slow system, it was old and clunky and colonial technology was such that even a ship like the Pegasus didn't have the personality that Federation ships had. The Galactica had always been challenging to control because it just didn't have the ability to understand anything but the most simple requests, and it was very… colonial in its simple mindset. He had spent months prepping it for the "don't jump" command and even though it was balking, he could already feel it unclenching its grip. Someone had helped already, he could feel that too, that the Galactica had already praised with a loving hand, and resented his touch. Resented that he had given the command and then left, leaving the Galactica alone, still obeying the command despite how much the crew begged and pleaded.

It would take time and a lot of nudging and apologizing. But it wasn't impossible and it was easier to ask because the Galactica wanted to jump. His command went against its nature, that was why the command would wear off on its own, but he could make it go faster. It was just going to take longer than the hour that Picard wanted. At best two. More like three or four. He was tired, that was the biggest problem. The trick with the Cylon Centurion had depleted him more than he thought. He had eaten and slept, but he wasn't in best form, not at all. And while he suspected that he could talk the Galactica into jumping from the CIC, he just didn't feel like being stared at.

"All right… I'll need to check out the computer banks and the engine itself." That meant fewer people around for certain, and it let him shake one of the babysitters fairly easily. "Lt. Alghee I want you to stay here and monitor the station. It will take at least an hour but we need someone here to make sure that as soon as the drive comes on line, we can jump. This will need to be fast." He put his hand on her shoulder. "You'll be fine. You are better at this than anyone. Don't worry." More quietly, he added, "Just think… you'll be able to tell your kids that you were the one who made the last jump to safety."

Alghee's sudden smile could have lit up the entire ship, of that he was positive.

~*~

Venner was honored to be chosen. His only sadness was that his parents weren't alive to see the honor he had received. He understood what the president's official wireless announcement was trying to accomplish, and he didn't approve but fortunately there would be time in the future for the colonists to really understand how the gods had blessed them all. In the mean time, he was honored to guard Apollo's child. Honored and amused at how Felix Gaeta, of all people, had turned out to be their savior.

It was the will of the gods, of course, and Venner was just pleased to know that he had a part in the story. The Scroll of Apollo made it very clear that there was danger for the child of Apollo. Perhaps it was ordained that the child of Apollo was to be rescued, and perhaps not. The scrolls were clear that there would be a confrontation, a testing, with the Arrow of Apollo, and no assurances that Apollo's child survived. But the prophecy had to be brought to its conclusion, the priestess on the Geminon Traveler had made that very clear. The very fact that a believer had been chosen to guard Gaeta was a sign.

Although Gaeta was acting strange. Venner had only dealt with the man on rare occasions. A stickler in inspections and not one for excuses, but pleasant enough. Something was clearly upsetting him though, as he strode through the increasingly quiet corridors of the ship. Occasionally he would stop and touch the metal walls, seeming almost to pray. Venner didn't ask questions. Apollo was a healing god, and the Galactica was ill. And if it was odd and almost Cylonish that Gaeta's god given powers seemed to revolve around machines and not people, Venner had to assume that it was Apollo's way of providing for the future of humanity. It was just starting to make him nervous that Gaeta was muttering under his breath, wiping his forehead, and all in all looking like a man that was scared beyond belief. "Are you all right sir?"

"I'm just tired," Gaeta said after a moment. "I shouldn't have…. What the hell?" He pointed to the wall.

Venner looked. "It's a mural." It raised the hackles on his neck. "It's the vortex from the Temple of Jupiter." It was a warning, although he didn't say it out loud. The confrontation was coming and his real job was not to keep Gaeta safe but to make sure that the testing occurred. He didn't envy Gaeta at all. There were several possible ends to the story, and most ended badly for the child of Apollo.

His shoulder radio crackled. "Sgt. Venner, report your status," the admiral barked.

"We're down near the FTL core." He looked at Gaeta. He had no idea what the status of the repairs were.

Gaeta tapped the Starfleet badge on his uniform and it chimed, obviously hooking into the wireless system. "Sir, it's not… as bad as I thought but it will be at least another hour."

"The civilian fleet and Cylon basestar will jump in two minutes." Admiral Adama's voice was clear and sharp. "Be prepared for possible hostile action."

Venner nodded. The Romulans might board, and that would interrupt the confrontation. "Don't worry, sir," he said to Gaeta. "If I see any aliens, I'll shoot."

For a moment Gaeta looked at him with surprise. Then he laughed. "Sgt. Venner… One day I hope you'll know why that is the funniest thing anyone has ever said to me. I'd explain it right now, if I wasn't positive that the Romulans will board us." He began to walk away.

Venner followed, his rifle ready. Gaeta was acting oddly, but he was the child of Apollo and had to be protected.

Chapter Text

Skivar looked at the floating ships and then at the sensor readings. There was something going on with the raggedy fleet of humans, he was certain of that. He had known something was going on when the reports from the edge of the Neutral Zone began to look suspicious. He had known something was out there but every time he had gotten close, he was hindered by the border. He had known there were ships but how they were escaping the attention of the Romulan Empire, he didn't know. Something was going on though. As much as the ratty primitive ships were chattering nonsense about finding Earth, and their lengthy journey being at an end, he didn't buy it. There was too much interest being shown to the hulking giant ship, with shuttles landing and taking off every few minutes, particularly when it was clear from the scanners that the ships were nothing but primitive subspace haulers and carriers. Only the two large ships had any weapons at all, rail guns and nuclear devices. It was almost adorably quaint, and it smelled like a trick. A big trick since the Federation must have spent a lot of time hauling the old ships so far out.

At the same time, he couldn't figure out why they would bother. Oh, of course the Federation was always interested in the Romulan Empire, but sending an entire fleet of pathetic subspace ships was bizarre. Even more bizarre was that the scans indicated that the ships were crammed to the brim with humans. Over forty thousand of them, and while he didn't put it past the Federation to do something clever and unique, the Federation was notoriously squeamish. It wasn't like them to use human lives as pawns.

That didn't mean it was impossible though. Unusual yes, but not impossible. He looked at his helmsmen. "Is there any new activity?"

One helmsman nodded. "The smaller Starfleet vessel has just warped away. It appears to be heading deeper into Federation territory. The various shuttles moving between the ships have all landed and the Enterprise's shuttles have returned. The inane chatter between the ships has become very…. Professional. And quiet."

"They are up to something," Shivar said. He looked at the view screen. The ships were there, and then suddenly they began to flicker and disappear. In a matter of seconds, all of the ships had disappeared, leaving only the Enterprise and one of the large armed ships, the one the transmissions called the Galactica. "What just happened?" he snarled at the helmsmen.

They looked at their sensor arrays. "We… don't know, sir. There were some minor power fluctuations…"

Shivar waved them silent. In an instant all of the situation became clear. Picard, in his way, had been telling the truth. The fleet was from some previously unknown colony of humans and that in itself would need the attention of the Empire, but the sudden flit away…. That had value. Military value. Picard knew that. The Federation knew that, and that was why they were already embracing the primitives despite their supposed morals and directives. "The large ship remaining, is it showing the same fluctuations?"

"No," the second helmsman said. "However the ship does appear to have a similar engine design as the others. The Starfleet captain did say they were having engine difficulties…."

And the large ship was still in the nebulous area where a 'misunderstanding' could take place without too much fuss or effort. The monitored transmissions talked about a treaty with the Federation that was not yet in effect. There was time still to enter the game and take the prize, without starting the war that the Empire wanted, but wasn't yet ready for. He didn't have the manpower to board and overtake a ship with over two thousand humans in it, but he did have enough men to transport in and download their technology into waiting Romulan computer banks.

And if it worked, he would vaulted to higher command. "Prepare the centurions to board the ship. We must have this technology."

~*~

Picard watched as the colonial civilian fleet and the Cylon basestar jumped. It was a relief to know that at least the bulk of the people were safe. The Romulan ship was quiet, but he wasn't surprised about that. They were planning something. He looked at the ensign at the helm. "Hail the Galactica."

One thing he did plan to suggest to Adama once the current situation had passed was that an upgrade in the Galactica's com system. It was a foregone conclusion that Shivar was listening to their conversation. There just wasn't anyway around it, with the Galactica relying on a primitive radio system. "Admiral Adama, how are the repairs moving along?"

"As well as can be expected," Adama said easily. Despite the lack of a view screen, Picard nodded to that. Knowing that they were being listened to, he had given Major Adama some code phrases for the repair time frames. 'As well as can be expected' meant that it take an hour. Perhaps less. A good thing.

"Please keep us advised," he said easily.

"Admiral Adama is it?" chimed a new voice. It was Shivar and immediately the bridge crew increased their alertness.

"And you are?" Adama asked. Picard smiled. Bill Adama managed to sound bored and amused, nonchalant even. A good tactic with Romulans, who tended to be hyper suspicious.

"I am Dar Shivar of the Thrai. Your vessel is in a disputed territory. Frankly, it's quite clear that you've likely been spying on us. However, I must say, your ship design is intriguing. Perhaps you would grant me a tour?" Shivar's tone was oily and slick.

"We're busy," Adama said curtly, "and I think you'd find the self guided tour to be a little dangerous."

"Perhaps," Shivar said easily. "But as I understand it, you and your ship are not affiliated with the Federation. You are not covered by any treaty. I could blow up your ship and deep down, the Federation wouldn't care."

"Let's not overstate," Picard said easily. "This is Federation space and these people are engaged in treaty talks."

"Perhaps this is Federation space. Perhaps not. Admiral Adama, your ship is intriguing. It's a shame you're against anyone having a look." Shivar's voice held more than a hint of threat.

"You wouldn't like it here." Adama said coldly. "Don't make me show you why."

"Very well."

Picard waited just a moment before he continued. "You realize Shivar is monitoring our transmissions."

"Good." Adama said. "I'm not frakking around."

One of the crew handed Picard the latest readings. He sighed. "Be aware, Admiral, that there are some unusual readings coming from your ship. It may be transport signatures… the Romulans are much better at masking." It wasn't unexpected but it was concerning. Shivar clearly understood just how hard he could push without crossing the line. A direct attack would not be tolerated, but a quick bit of technological theft from a ship that wasn't yet allied… No doubt Shivar already saw the FTL drive as a potential threat to the Empire.

It was, of course, which only made his actions more understandable.

There was silence on the comm line. Finally, "If he wants to dance," Adama said, his voice a low growl, "he's welcome to join the party. But I doubt he'll like our steps." The comm line crackled as the transmission ended.

Picard smiled wryly. He suspected Shivar had no idea what sort of hell pit he'd just beamed his men into.

~*~

The sound tickled his memory but he pushed it aside. The ship was almost ready and he could feel the stress in the metallic structure releasing. "Just a little bit more," he whispered as he touched the primitive computers. Not for the first time, he wondered what touching, feeling, a Cylon basestar would be like, but he forced that thought away as well. He needed to concentrate and the Galactica, in its way, was jealous of other ships. Part of her stubbornness was because he had been taken to the new, fancier ship that seemed to impress everyone.

It's not that nice, he soothed. You're bigger than her and she doesn't jump. She's very jealous of the jump. You'll leave her behind. And the new ship is bad. It wants to hurt people and you want to help the people. Jumping is help.

He just wished he wasn't so tired. That made the Galactica nervous, as nervous as a giant, essentially brain dead hunk of metal could get, and that made the whole process take longer. Which made him more tired, and the real problems for him started once the Galactica jumped and it was difficult to ignore. Gaeta put his hands on the flickering computer bank and tried again. Please jump, he thought as he envisioned the coordinates and how they were entered and acted on. Everyone wants you to jump. You want to jump.

"Sir?"

He bit back a curse. Venner was religious, which was irritating, and worse, Venner seemed to think he was doing something magical. That wasn't going to help, particularly if there was a court martial.

"Sir!" Suddenly Venner was grabbing him and shoving him into a hatchway. Venner's eyes were wide. Not frightened, but surprised. "Sir, those aliens… didn't you hear it?"

And suddenly Gaeta realized he had heard it. A transporter, but not a Federation model. He peaked out of the hatchway and wasn't surprised to see three Romulans holding weapons and their version of a tricorder. One of them went to the computer banks Gaeta had just been working with and began to speak. His Romulan was very rusty, but he was certain of what they were doing, or at least trying. They were there to steal. He looked at Venner. "They're Romulans… They're dangerous."

Venner's eyes seemed to light up with fire. "They can't be allowed to interfere with the test."

"Test? Venner, listen to me, they're trying to steal the FTL drive." Which was impossible from where they were, but it would take them some time and likely some colonial lives. But even as he spoke, Venner was moving. The man jumped into the walkway and opened fire, spraying the corridor with explosive rounds. For a moment, Gaeta thought it had worked, and then he saw the disruptor blast slam into Venner's armor. Venner dropped his rifle and collapsed and Gaeta grabbed it without even thinking and looked down the corridor. Only one of the Romulans was still standing and there was green blood splattered on his uniform. He spotted Gaeta and began to raise his disruptor.

No, Gaeta decided suddenly, I am not getting killed after all of this by a damn Romulan. He fired. Venner had the weapon on automatic and the Romulan went down. Gaeta dropped the rifle and went to Venner's side. He was amazed to see the young marine was still alive. Romulans rarely set their weapons to stun, and Venner's armor was melted. He knelt down to the man's side. "You're going to be all right…."

"The test…" Venner grabbed him by his uniform and pulled him close. "Athena's child will test you. It's coming…I'm sorry…"

"There's nothing to be sorry about," Gaeta said. He was no doctor, but it looked bad and there was no way he could haul Venner to medical care. Then he had an idea. He took off his combadge and put it on Venner. "Listen to me. There's nothing to be sorry about and in a minute, you're going to be transported to the Enterprise and you'll be all right."

"No," Venner said. "I brought you here to be tested. It's my role…To bring Apollo's child to the test."

"I'm not Apollo's child…"Gaeta said tiredly. He started to take off the wrist monitor. "When I set this on you, it's going to take you to the Enterprise. You need to tell them that the Romulans have boarded." Because there had to be more than one boarding party.

"I will…." Venner took the wrist monitor. "The Arrow is coming for you, sir….." He suddenly disappeared in a Federation transport wave.

"Great," Gaeta said as he stood up. Venner was never going to see him as anything but the physical fulfillment of a prophecy. That was wonderful. But not the most important issue and without Venner there, he didn't have to worry how it looked. He went back to the computer panel, careful to step over the bodies and put his hands down on the metal. Then he closed his eyes. It was easier to see the connections, to walk the ship through it, if he closed his eyes.

"Are you praying, Gaeta? Praying to the gods? Or just praying I don't kill you?"

He jumped and opened his eyes. Kara Thrace was standing in the corridor, her sidearm in her hand. Of course, he thought tiredly. Venner was a believer, and the prophecy said there would be a test.

And Kara was the Arrow of Apollo.

Chapter Text

He was in one of their uniforms, of course. She wasn't surprised by that at all. Gaeta was one of them, not a true colonial citizen at all, and he had always been quick to run to whoever gave him the best deal. The Federation had no doubt lapped up all of the intelligence he had provided them with. What surprised her was how positively ill he looked. She had seen Lee briefly after his return from the Enterprise and Lee had looked fantastic. Well rested and energetic, Lee had looked like a man who had just returned from a great vacation, and from the way he talked, the Enterprise was essentially a pleasure cruiser. Gaeta in contrast looked exhausted and sickly pale, with dark circles under his eyes. Not exactly god like, which she added to her list of things that marked Gaeta as the usurper. "Step away from the computer bank, Gaeta."

He turned his back to her and put his hands back on the computer. "I know why you're here, Kara. And you need to give me about five minutes before you kill me. Otherwise the Galactica won't be able to jump, and the Romulans will call in reinforcements and everyone on this ship will be killed. Let me fix the ship and then you do whatever you want."

She gritted her teeth. No one knew what he had done to the FTL drive and she wasn't blind to the bodies of the aliens in the corridor. It had been the gunfire that had led her there. Still… "You're not a god."

Gaeta looked at her and sighed. "I never said I was. But I owe you and your people this. I have to get you to safety, and then you can kill me. But I need five minutes." He turned his attention back to the computer. Then he closed his eyes and she was startled to see the computer's lights start to speed up their blinking.

"What the hell are you doing?" She pulled him away from the computer bank and slammed him into the corridor wall. Be careful, a little voice warned inside her head, his sister said he was stronger than he looked, but she ignored it.

And she was too surprised by the sudden flash of anger on his face to pull the trigger, or even dodge as he dove and tackled her. She got in a few punches but he was stronger than he looked and in seconds he had her pinned to the floor, his arm around her neck. "You stupid bitch," he hissed as he choked her. "All you had to do was wait five frakking minutes…."

That was the last thing she heard as she lost consciousness.

~*~

"We have reports of enemy boarding parties," Admiral Adama's voice rumbled over the loudspeaker. "We are at condition one."

Cottle shrugged as he loaded his side arm. Bill always had a way of sounding serious yet completely at ease on the loudspeaker. As if the Galactica routinely repelled alien space pirates or whatever the current crisis was. Still, no one was hassling his patients. Especially now that they had medicine and treatments. "All right, I want everyone to be alert. If you're sick, then just lie there and don't worry." He glanced at T'kil who had stayed behind to assist with the patients. "I have an extra gun if you want."

She eyed him. "Vulcans are pacifists."

"That must make wars less exciting," he said as he lit a cigarette. Before she could retort, the doors to the hospital area slammed open and two Romulans stormed in, holding what he had to assume were weapons. "This is a hospital, gentlemen. Would you like a bandage?"

"What for?" snarled the first.

Cottle fired his gun. It slammed into the Romulan and the explosive round made a huge hole in the Romulan's chest. As it fell, spewing greenish blood to the floor, Cottle said, "Yeah I guess a bandage isn't really going to help."

"Look out," T'kil said, pushing him aside as the other Romulan rushed them. She quickly and calmly spun the Romulan into a wrist lock and then used her free hand to pinch the man's neck, causing him to collapse in a heap.

"Well, that was certainly cute," Cottle said easily as two of Galactica's pilots stormed in, guns waving. They skidded and slipped in the dead Romulan's blood.

"It also creates less mess. And now we have a prisoner." T'kil wasn't exactly smiling, but Cottle sensed a certain amusement coming from her.

He took a deep drag on his cigarette. "All I know," he said as he nudged the dead Romulan with his shoe, " is that these guys aren't exactly tough to kill. Somebody better get a mop though."

~*~

She realized with a start that she wasn't dead. She was lying on the floor of the corridor, propped up against the wall, her weapon conveniently out of reach. Gaeta was still there, his back to her. He was leaning against the bank of computers, touching it and resting his head against it, almost as if he was trying to hug it. His eyes were closed and he seemed to be almost grimacing with effort. The computer seemed to be blinking in time to his breath, and for just a moment she was awed by it, because she could just sense what he was doing. She knew what he was doing, that was the hell of it. He was one with the ship, feeling it and directing it. She had done the same thing with her Viper, it was instinctive and for a second she was jealous. Jealous that Gaeta of all people, had the pilot gift and had it in such abundance that he could direct a ship the size of the Galactica. Pilots, good pilots, had the gift of being able to be one with their ship. It wasn't something that was talked about, it was understood. Pilots that lasted, that lived beyond their first few real missions, had the gift. It was what divided the excellent from the average.

Still, it gave her an idea of what he had been up to over the years. It also erased any doubt she had about his supposedly holy nature. He had broken the Galactica, on purpose, and she was watching him try to fix it. For a moment, her resolve wavered. If he wanted to destroy them all, a small voice chimed inside of her head, there had been better opportunities. He could have let them all die on New Caprica. Or during the jump from Ragnor. If she had the number on the new aliens, the Romulans correct, then Gaeta could have cheerfully led them all to their deaths. And it wasn't as though he had ever been all that obsessed at self preservation.

He was standing with his back to her, with his eyes closed, after all. That wasn't conducive to living long, not at all. And as she watched him through slitted eyes, she realized he was completely oblivious to everything around him. Her hand inched forward and she slowly gripped the service pistol. She had learned how to wait. It was a lesson Leoben had taught her and she could wait for him to be done. Shooting him in the back while he was totally out of it wasn't exactly sporting. So she kept as still as possible, her eyes barely open.

That meant she saw the alien soldier as it slowly rose from its prone position, and carefully take shaky aim at Gaeta with its weapon. No, she thought darkly as her fingers curled around the trigger of her pistol, I've waited patiently. You and your green bleeding ass are not ruining this for me. With lightening speed she swung the weapon around and fired. The alien went down with a squawk of pain, and she fired another round at its head to be careful. She kept her eyes on the Romulan, noting Gaeta had turned to look at the edge of her peripheral vision. "Does a head shot kill them?"

"What?" Gaeta said, his voice shocked and breathless.

"The Romulan. Does a head shot kill them?" She was pretty certain the greenish splatter was brain tissue.

"Y-yes…."Gaeta stuttered. If anything he looked even more pale.

She pointed the pistol at him. "Good. Now get to it. We haven't jumped yet." The Romulans were dangerous, and the Galactica needed to rejoin the fleet. "We can talk when you're done."

"No…" He flinched at her look, but only a little. "I'm sorry… I'm not a god… it's just a form of telekinesis…. But I don't…." He suddenly slammed his fist into the wall. "That damn centurion…." He looked up at her. "It's not magic… but it's like a battery… you have to recharge and I didn't… The Galactica just needs a push and I don't have enough left…"

"Son of a bitch!" Kara snarled. The prophecy was true, in part. Gaeta had led them to the point they were at, with an alien ship bearing down on them and the ship unable to jump. He was the usurper, a false god bent on leading them to destruction. Her fingers curled around the trigger. For a moment, he seemed to accept his fate and then suddenly his eyes sparkled in thought.

"You flew the raider. How did you do that, Kara?" His question surprised her, partly because he asked it in that often snotty way he had when he thought he was right about something.

"It was just a ship. If it flies in atmosphere, it has to obey certain principles." She wasn't sure where he was going. Flying the captured raider had been a long time ago.

"You put your hands on it, inside it," Gaeta said softly, his expression growing more excited. "You asked it to fly, didn't you? You were desperate and you asked it, and it responded…."

The problem was that he was describing exactly how she had handled it. She had been desperate, and she had known that the ship could fly and she had… wanted it to help her out. And it had. "What are you talking about?"

"You opened the Tomb of Athena." He pointed at her. "It wasn't the arrow from Delphi. That was just a piece of art attached to the story. You are the Arrow of Apollo. You're a direct descendent of Athena… probably some sort of genetic throwback. A lot of colonials have the genes. Not enough for it to really matter but enough for oracles and visions and enough to make the Viper hard as hell to fly if you don't have the help. You know what I mean. I remember listening to you and Lee Adama talking one time, about how you can always tell who will wipe out in a training class."

"Shut up!" Yet, she didn't pull the trigger.

"You did that painting on the wall," Gaeta pressed. He pointed to her paint dotted hands. "I remember looking at the pictures of the Temple of Jupiter and thinking it looked like the wormhole…." He took a deep breath. "I need your help, Kara. You can do whatever you want to me once the ship jumps but I need you to help me get the ship to safety… The Romulans pushed too far…. They might fire on the Galactica just to cover up the fact that they boarded."

His words slowly sank in. "You're not part god. I'm not part god…"

"No," Gaeta said, "No one is part god. But you've read the stories… Zeus raping women, Apollo taking wives… If you believe the scrolls are true… what do you think happened to the children of the gods? It's a gift you have… its why you're a good pilot, it's how you flew the raider. I need you to just help me… Just for a moment… Then you can do whatever you want… I won't stop you."

He'd always been such an honest little bastard, that was the problem. Despite the lie, the huge lie, she could see it in his eyes that he meant it. "Gods, you're an idiot," she said as she put her weapon in her flight suit's holster. "If you're going to break shit, you need to be able to fix it, Felix. What am I supposed to do? Pray?"

"No…" He gestured to the computer bank. "Just put your hands on it."

She did. "Nothing is happening," she said after a moment. Much to her surprise, Gaeta came up behind her, putting his arms around her so that his hands were on top of hers.

"Don't worry," he said softly in her ear. "It shouldn't hurt…. This is like putting a fresh battery with a used one. You just have to follow along." He pressed his hands down on hers, entwining them until his fingers touched the ship. And then she felt it. The Galactica. Almost shaking with nervous anticipation… She had to close her eyes from the force of it and when she did, it was as though she could see the ship under her hands, lines of wire and code floating by, some zooming and some… waiting.

Please jump, she heard in her mind, and she knew without a doubt it was Gaeta. There was a sense of praise, and she let it flow around her.

Everyone is pleased, Gaeta said. You did exactly what we wanted, what we needed. You brought everyone to safety. I told you not to jump and that saved us. Everyone is going to a new home and you'll get to go too but you need to jump.

It made sense, and she could even feel Gaeta almost pulling the energy from her to convince the Galactica. She understood almost instinctively what he had done. She also realized in seconds what needed to be done. Gaeta had bullied the ship into doing something it hadn't wanted to do and eventually he would apologize enough to appease the Galactica but they didn't have time.

Let me, she hissed in her mind and she could feel Gaeta's thoughts flinch and then….move aside. He was letting her control his power, and she realized with a rush that while he was exhausted, his ability outstripped anything she had ever done with a raider or a Viper. Listen to me, she said to the ship, focusing all of the lines of code into a well aimed pyramid ball, this is what the Admiral wants. Not Felix, not me, but the Admiral. The Admiral wants you to do something that's so easy. Jumping is easy and impressive and it's all Admiral Adama wants. You've never disappointed him before but you will if you don't jump. You have to jump now!

In her mind, she let go of the thought and for just a moment she thought it had failed. And then it felt as though a wave of power flowed into her. She could sense, could feel, the Galactica let go and open the pathways to the FTL drive. The metal thrummed under her hands, a sensation she had felt many times before but never as strongly. The FTL drive was spinning and so deep in the ship, she could feel it all over her body. She pulled Gaeta's hands off the ship's metal wall just as the inversion of the jump wave washed over them.

We're safe, she thought as her vision dimmed, we made it.

Chapter Text

It hurt. Her entire body seemed to burn and that was what brought her back to awareness. Still, as she opened her eyes, the intensity of it seemed to fade, leaving her feeling exhausted and tingly, as though she was filled with static electricity. And she felt nauseous. Kara struggled to her feet and clutched the metal wall as a wave of dizziness threatened her.

"Oh frak…" she muttered darkly. It felt like a hangover, the worst hangover she'd ever had, multiplied by at least one hundred. The green blood and brain matter smeared all over the walls wasn't helping the rising gorge either, but she took a moment and the feeling passed.

At least until she heard Gaeta vomit. She turned slowly, careful to not make her own dizziness worse. He was just barely on his knees, throwing up an ugly brownish black stream. "Gods, Gaeta, what the hell did you eat?"

"Cookies and…. Milk…" He vomited again and Kara grabbed him just before he fell into it. She propped him up against the wall. He looked barely conscious, much worse than he had just moments earlier. "You… should get the Romulans weapon…."

"They're dead, Gaeta." She assumed they were dead, anyway. She didn't feel well enough to take a closer look.

He started to shake his head and winced. "No… if you shoot me with their weapon… everyone will think it was them…."

"Gaeta…. I'm not going to kill you…."Although she could see why he thought that. It had been a large part of her original plan. She laughed despite how much it hurt. "I was planning to, but after this…." She was still to shocked to really think about it but she knew what she felt. "You're Apollo's child…." And if that was true, then Gaeta was right. She was Athena's child in the prophecy. Killing Gaeta would have killed them all, the mistake Athena's child made in one branch of the prophecy.

Gaeta looked at her blearily. "I'm not…" Suddenly he chuckled, although she could see he was barely keeping his eyes open. "It doesn't matter… I knew… I knew this would end badly." He looked up at her, his expression suddenly intent. "You were right. In the airlock. I… I could have stopped us…. I could have told the Admiral who I really was and how close we were. I didn't… I thought the people wanted to settle… and I knew how much trouble I'd get in… so I didn't stop it. I got six thousand people killed… And I'm still going to prison…. Violating the Prime Directive… I had to do it, to make up for that, for all of those people… This…" and he touched the metal wall of the Galactica, "was the only reason I didn't shoot myself after New Caprica…" He looked at her sadly. "You'd be doing me a favor… My family is always watched because of what we are. It was one thing my mother always warned us about…. When you have special talents, you always have to be extra careful to follow the rules. With… all of the talk of Apollo…. They'll nail me to the wall just to make the point…"

It shocked her. Not the prison talk, she had known that Gaeta was in hack, that was part of her plan. To at least get him in hack if she wasn't able to kill him. Because if the usurper wasn't dead, he had to be neutralized and Felix Gaeta in prison meant that the calmer people in the fleet wouldn't be inclined to worship him. But every thing she had read about the Federation told her that it was pretty laid back in a lot of respects. Gaeta was barely conscious, she could see that, but he was still afraid. "Gaeta… Felix….I'm not going to kill you… Look, I won't even talk about this. And I won't call you Apollo's child."

She had a feeling that plenty of people would be doing that without her adding to it, but she could see how what they had just done had the potential to increase the religious talk.

He looked at her, his expression tired. "It doesn't matter. I was stupid… There's a notebook…I don't even remember doing it…. It's in the lab somewhere… It's evidence… I was sick on New Caprica…I must have written something down because I thought I was going to die…" He chuckled again and closed his eyes. "And that's my luck, that's always my luck…." He opened his eyes after a moment and looked up at her. "It really doesn't matter… I think I'm dying….I never felt this bad…"

He did look bad, Kara realized. She felt pretty horrible herself, shaky and tingly and dizzy, and whatever Gaeta had done to her, using her as some sort of energy source with him as a conduit, he had taken the brunt of the action. He didn't just look exhausted, he looked miserably ill and she realized suddenly that he was shaking. No, she thought suddenly, I have to make this right.

"I'll get help," she said softly, but Gaeta just closed his eyes. She staggered down the corridor, realizing every step she took hurt. Her feet felt like she was wearing lead boots and she gripped the corridor wall against the wave of dizziness. There were comm units, she knew it, but they were spaced far apart. Somewhere. The Romulans had fired into one, the closest one. It just frakking figures, she thought as she took another step, there's no godsdamned comm unit close by. Her stomach suddenly rolled, but she pressed on, turning the corner.

"Kara?" Racetrack was there, with Reg Barclay of all people, and the two of them looked worried. Racetrack grabbed her by the shoulders to steady her. "Are you drunk? There's Romulan boarding parties… we heard shots…"

She shook her head, despite the increasing dizziness. "Gaeta… in the next corridor…" She looked at Reg, and realized that the Starfleet officer was one of the few who might instantly get it. "He's sick… he was fixing the ship and he used that power that he has…."

She could see Reg understand her point instantly. He looked at Racetrack, and then at her, as if realizing something important. She wasn't surprised. Reg was possibly the smartest person she had ever met. She could see in his eyes that he knew she was involved and that if she was barely able to stand then Gaeta had to be badly off. "I'll check him," he said to Racetrack.

Kara nodded at his words. " I… killed some of those aliens…." Her stomach rolled again and she couldn't fight it anymore. She started to vomit and realized only dimly that Racetrack was lowering her to the floor.

~*~

It was the noise that brought her around. The beeping in her ear was the first clue that she was under Dr. Cottle's not so gentle care. The next clue was the not as hard as the floor surface she was lying on. One of the hospital cots, and fortunately Cottle hadn't had time to pull one of his favorite tricks and strip her naked while she was unconscious and dress her up in a hospital gown. That was good.

She opened her eyes just a little. Kara was surprised that Cottle wasn't standing over her, letting hot ash drop on her as a wake up call, he and the Vulcan doctor were working at the bed opposite hers. Gaeta, she realized as she spotted the new boots and yellow cloth of his uniform. She could see his feet suddenly twitch rhythmically and Cottle was quick to hold him down.

"What the hell?" Cottle said, his tone concerned. "He's seizing."

"His electrolytes are dangerously depleted and out of balance. Hold him still." The Vulcan touched Gaeta with one of her small devices, and almost instantly the shaking stopped. The alien doctor looked at Cottle. "This is concerning but unlikely to result in permanent damage. There were extensive studies done on the Pollux hybrids. This is the end result of severe overexertion. I recommend transporting him to Federation facilities once we regain contact with the Dooley or the Enterprise. I am able to treat this, but he will recover more quickly in better facilities"

Cottle frowned. "This never happened until you people came around, T'Kil…." Kara almost smiled. As much of an ass as Cottle could be, he was always concerned about his patients. He glared at T'Kil and then down at Gaeta, as if irritated that the man was sick. Still, it eased her mind. Gaeta wasn't going to die and that meant at the very least she wasn't going to be blamed for killing him. She didn't mind taking that kind of hit when she was genuinely responsible but she did mind taking the blame when she hadn't done more than fight with him. A fight the bastard had won easily, and she had a feeling that he hadn't even had to try that hard, despite looking like hell.

It also meant that she needed to think about moving. There were things she needed to do. Felix Gaeta was not the usurper of the prophecy but she couldn't shake the feeling that she knew who it was, that it was part of her destiny. So she started to get up and in an instant Cottle was there.

"You need to sit down, young lady," Cottle said darkly. "According to this damn thing," and he was holding one of the sleek Starfleet devices, "you're lucky you're even conscious. You've got the same electrolyte depletion." He seemed suddenly curious about the readings he was getting and handed the device to T'kil. The Vulcan didn't seem to be surprised but Kara had heard that they weren't emotional.

"This is consistent with theories being presented about your people," T'Kil said to Cottle. She looked at Kara. "Your throat is bruised."

"I fell," Kara said easily. That was a lot easier than the truth. Cottle snorted in amusement.

"That explanation is inconsistent with the finger shaped bruises," T'Kil said, but she did not take it any further. To Cottle she said, "I recommend rest and nutritional supplementation to speed healing but this one will recover without assistance. Even Lt. Cmdr. Gaeta will recover without assistance, but there is no need for anyone to suffer needlessly. Her condition is not as severe." Someone handed T'Kil a bottle of yellowish orange liquid, and T'Kil handed it to Kara. "You will drink this."

"Why?" It didn't look especially appetizing, especially considering how queasy her stomach felt. "This looks disgusting."

The Vulcan looked at her and then at Cottle, who shrugged, his expression one of sheer amusement.

"You wonder why I don't give them time to talk back? She's your patient, you deal with her." Cottle crossed his arms. The Vulcan seemed off put but only for a moment.

She turned her attention back to Kara. Her eyes narrowed although her expression didn't discernibly change. "You will drink this. Because I say so."

Kara rolled her eyes. "Or what?"

T'kil frowned. "I will ask Dr. Cottle to strike you. I am sure he would not mind assisting me."

"Sure," Cottle said, a rare smile crossing his face. "I can help more." He held up a lit cigarette and waggled it, his intent obvious. Kara rolled her eyes again.

"A scar would leave a lasting reminder," T'Kil said gravely. "Perhaps it won't be necessary." She eyed Kara.

"Fine," Kara said, frowning but not really meaning it. She sipped the beverage, and made a face. Then she gestured to the bed where Gaeta was lying. "Is he going to live?"

T'Kil nodded. "He is not likely to wake for some time, but he should recover fully." She gestured to the hospital bed Kara was lying on. "You should rest as well."

"Whatever." Kara sipped the beverage and waited for T'Kil to be distracted by patients. She would be damned if she spent the next six hours safely ensconced in a hospital bed. There were things to do. She could feel it, that she had more to do in order to make things work out. Because things weren't right, not yet.

She watched for a few minutes as the medical staff worked over their patients. It was surprising to see that there were empty beds. There were also several Starfleet medics there and she watched in surprise as one of the pilots came in with an obviously broken hand and left minutes later with her hand completely fine. But she couldn't relax, even though the wretched drink was making her better, and more alert. Something was still wrong.

Then she spotted Reg Barclay poking his head into the cavernous room. She waved him over. He quickly came to her side, sparing a nervous glance at Gaeta, who appeared to be asleep. " Is…. Is he ok?"

"If he was dead, Cottle would have put a sheet over him, don't worry." She pulled Reg closer to her. Quietly she said, "I didn't hurt him. You were right. I wasn't being fair." And Reg Barclay was a much braver guy than he let people know because there weren't many people who would tell her how wrong she was while within arm's reach. "Listen to me," she said softly. "I need to know something. We're in Federation space, right?"

"Yes. There's no way the Romulans will come this deep into our territory and there's about five ships on their way to support your fleet. It's going to be all right for your people." Reg spoke equally soft.

"Your captain…. He'll find the time to investigate things then? What is going on?" An idea formed in her head. The Scroll of Apollo mentioned a usurper, a trickster, for a reason. It was the usurper, in some of the prophecies threads, that destroyed Apollo's child and led the people to death.

And it was Athena's child that stopped it from happening.

"I don't know… officially…" Reg looked around nervously before he continued. "But the admiral refused to let Cmdr. Riker search your science lab… and now that the Galactica has jumped and is safe… its going to be difficult for him to refuse."

Kara saw it in an instant. Adama was trying to protect Gaeta and ultimately he would have to allow access to the lab or face accusations that he had been in cahoots with Gaeta. Which wasn't true, and not likely to bother the old man, but she suspected the Federation would make things difficult for Adama. And there was evidence in the lab, evidence that would land Gaeta in prison. Evidence that Dr. Gaius Baltar had tried to trick her into finding for him.

Baltar. It was Baltar, it had always been Baltar and she had nearly let him win.

She pulled Reg close. "Listen to me. I have to do something, to make up for being… well… I have to make it up, ok? I need you to distract the doctors so I can get out of here. Don't make me explain why." She pointedly nodded towards Gaeta's body and waited.

Reg blinked and looked at her and then at Gaeta. Damn, she though with relief as understanding finally came to his features, you're lucky you're good at math. "You… want to help Felix."

"I need to take care of something and I need to get out of here. Do something." She let go of him.

Reg nodded and rolled up his sleeve, revealing a slight rash on his arm. He took a deep breath, and turned, heading straight to T'kil and Cottle, who were standing over Gaeta. "Excuse me!" He said it loudly, and in a panicked tone. "I have this rash and I was feverish! I think I have small pox!"

As a small crowd of personnel converged on him, Kara grinned and slipped out of bed. Smart, nervous guys like Reg really had their uses. 

Chapter Text

Picard had to admit, having the colonial fleet jump deeper into Federation space had eased his mind a great deal, so much so that he was fine with the time wasted by shuttling over to the Galactica instead of transporting. He nodded pleasantly to the young ensign who was piloting and stepped down onto the Galactica's deck.

He wasn't surprised to see a swirling mass of uniformed workers, officers and enlisted alike, passing around bottles of drink and celebrating. That was probably a good thing, he thought as he spotted Riker waiting patiently by one of the Raptors. "Number One, what do you have to report?"

Riker smiled slightly. "There were approximately twenty Romulan Centurions that transported over. It was clearly an attempt at espionage, they were all carrying recording devices. Admiral Adama has the one survivor locked in their brig under guard."

"There was a survivor?" That was more restraint than Picard had expected from the colonials.

"Dr. T'Kil subdued one." Riker handed him a padd. "It's in her report. She also reported that Cmdr. Gaeta is in the Galactica sickbay, suffering from a form of severe exhaustion that is a hallmark of Pollux hybrid overexertion of their powers."

Which was circumstantial evidence that Gaeta had probably caused the Galactica's initial malfunction, but the very nature of Gaeta's hybrid powers made it impossible to determine unless the man confessed. That was the main reason Picard hadn't asked and while he understood why Ambassador Troi was forced to bring Dr. Gaius Baltar's accusation to light, he wished it hadn't happened. If it was a violation, it was a minor one and while there were a variety of political reasons that made a slap on the wrist a possibility, there were also political reasons to make sure that an example was made. He almost hoped that Bill Adama had done what he expected, and destroyed any evidence that was left. He just didn't think the man would do it. Not unless Gaeta asked, and in some respects, Gaeta was more colonial than he was Starfleet. Acting honorably was important to the colonials, and while Adama would consider it honorable to cover up any wrong that Gaeta had committed to save them, Gaeta no doubt would consider it wrong for him to accept such help.

That meant that the evidence was probably still there and he would need to begin court martial proceedings against Felix Gaeta. Who, if he understood the report correctly, was barely alive due to his efforts to save the Galactica. "What else do you have to report?"

"Lt. Barclay reported small pox symptoms but subsequent testing indicates he has some sort of allergy to the mold in the bathroom facilities." Riker smiled slightly. "On the plus side, other than Worf, I must admit, Barclay is certainly the most popular of the exchange officers. They all call him "MadDog" now and he was patrolling with the Galactica's pilots, looking for Romulans."

Picard nodded. Inwardly he was amused and also pleased. In a lot of ways, Reg Barclay was a difficult officer to command. Brilliant but odd, and hard to manage, but somehow he wasn't surprised that Barclay, of all people, had been the one to integrate well with the colonial people.

"Something I found interesting," Riker said as they walked down the corridor, "Captain Thrace… Kara Thrace, was found with a similar state as Cmdr. Gaeta. Not as serious but…"

"It indicates that the colonial people have had their fair share of interaction with Pollux life forms." He wasn't surprised, not at all. The people of the Twelve Colonies of Kobol had clearly been meddled with in the past. By Pollux Four life forms, the medical scans made that clear. He personally suspected that there had been a strong influence by the Preservers as well but it would take more than casual research to make that clear. "Anything else of interest?"

"Just the Admiral's refusal to let us look in the science lab." Riker said it with regret. "I wish Ambassador Troi hadn't heard what she did. It's a fine line and the colonials didn't benefit in the slightest even if there was a notebook with our technology written down. They're not going to understand why we're court-martialing the man who led them to safety. Not over technology that they were never privy to. And…" Riker stopped walking and faced him. "I don't think this notebook is the real violation. I can't put my finger on it but…" He shrugged, his expression pensive. "I don't get the impression that Gaeta was so highly thought of or highly placed enough in the command structure to make all the route decisions."

"I know, Number One. I believe President Roslin is involved. Admiral Adama as well, but after the fact." The problem with all the talk of directive violations was that hard proof was required. Gaeta confessed but while the man had admitted to using his knowledge of Starfleet space to get the colonial fleet to Federation space, he insisted he had been working alone. That alone didn't rise to a major violation. Picard suspected, based on Roslin's lack of surprise and her interaction with Adama, that she had known more than she had let on to Adama. "This notebook… It's ironic that the one piece of hard evidence we might find is a violation that never helped these people at all."

"Can you imagine," Riker said as they began walking again, "If this is true… Gaius Baltar, a supposed scientific genius, just ignored the discoveries Gaeta gave him."

"That's the flaw in such thinking, Number One. I suspect that Dr. Baltar has spent many years hearing what a clever fellow he is. When he is presented with the possibility that someone might be as clever, his world view of his own achievement can't countenance the idea that someone else might be as brilliant as they are. He wasn't willing to accept that he wasn't the smartest person in… the colonies and he ignored the possible accomplishments of what he deemed a lesser person." If Gaeta had gotten a piece of good luck, it was that Baltar had dismissed him as not bright enough to come up with new ideas that were worth while.

"I don't like this," Riker said quietly. "These people are fragile, sir. I don't think they'll understand our reasons for prosecuting someone they perceive as a hero." He hesitated. "I've talked with these people. It's amazing that any of them survived this. They might not protest an arrest and a court martial, because they are too desperate to protest much of anything but… A few years down the road and we could have a well remembered political and religious slight to work against."

"You think they'll become political players." Picard said.

Riker nodded. "Not right away, they have got too much rebuilding to do but these are people who won't be content to sit planet side and let the Federation handle things for them." He shrugged slightly. "These people… took out Romulan boarding parties like it was some sort of fun filled turkey shoot. An easy turkey shoot. They're aggressive and they will learn quickly."

"They have a fire to their spirits," Picard agreed easily. He was glad that Riker had made the same connection he had. "The Federation isn't the wild mass of wars and armed borders that it was, but that doesn't mean we no longer need that spirit. I think these people will do well… even if they do think the Prime Directive isn't to their taste."

It was touchy though. He wasn't going to back down. The violation had to be investigated and because of who Gaeta was, he had to be diligent. There were violations that could be winked and nodded at, and without the supposed notebook, Gaeta was looking at a mild reprimand. With the notebook, and the scenario that Baltar had presented, even though nothing had actually happened, the possibility was there that something could have happened. The colonials were an aggressive group of people. New, better, weapons would be like candy to them and that would be obvious to any investigator.

He didn't have to like going after the young man though, and he didn't relish the fact that if there was a notebook full of doodled warp engine designs that were never used in the Galactica's makeshift science lab, he would be sending a man to prison. For the crime of saving forty one thousand people when he could have just as easily sent them to their deaths. He followed Riker to the CIC.

Admiral Adama was there, with President Roslin. He wasn't surprised to see Luxwana Troi there, strategically attached to Colonel Tigh's arm. Inwardly he was very amused at that particular choice but he didn't let it show. Lt. Worf was there as well, looking well pleased with the day's events. "Admiral Adama, Madame President, Colonel Tigh, and of course, Ambassador Troi. I understand from Cmdr. Riker that the Romulans were dealt with easily."

Adama nodded. "I understand that one of my men was transported to your ship with injuries. The report was sketchy."

"Sergeant Venner is in serious condition but he should make a full recovery." And the colonial people needed to have a serious public debriefing about matter transporters before Venner was brought back. Venner was still insisting that Gaeta's godly powers had saved him from demons and that simply couldn't be allowed. Particularly when the man's unique body armor was what had really saved his life.

That was another thing among several that the colonials had to offer. He suspected that their new colony, where ever they decided to move, would be quite wealthy in credits from patents. "Unfortunately I have a less pleasant task at hand. I am required to investigate the allegations that Dr. Gaius Baltar has made." He looked sternly at Adama. There were few things, in his opinion, that touched a man's pride more than being strong armed on one's own ship, and he was about to twist Adama's arm. "As the senior representative from Starfleet, I must request access to the Galactica's science lab in order to search for evidence of wrong doing on the part of Lt. Cmdr. Gaeta."

"You do know that Mr. Gaeta is currently unconscious, under medical observation?" Roslin stated. Her eyes glittered angrily despite the slight smile on her face. "Apparently he had several seizures and was close to death before the medical staff was able to stabilize his condition."

" I am aware of that, Madame President." Picard kept his tone curt. Roslin wasn't a dictator, not in spirit, but she was used to having her way and he had no intention of wavering. "However, I think it's best for everyone if we get this concern dealt with. Dr. Baltar alleges that Cmdr. Gaeta gave him a notebook full of scientific theories, drawings, and equations. He also alleges that the notebook is most likely among his papers which are locked in the science lab. Right now, this is the only proof we have aside from Mr. Gaeta's confession to assisting with your navigation. That assistance alone isn't damning, but if this notebook exists, I will have to initiate formal court martial proceedings."

"And if I don't allow it?" Roslin said.

"That isn't your decision, Madame President," Adama said quietly. Picard could see the surprise on Roslin's face. Adama looked at her and then to Picard. "The lab has been locked since this concern was raised. Lt. Cmdr. Gaeta may have been your officer to start, but he's been one of my officers for longer." He stepped forward, and looked Picard in the eye. "For the record, the lab hasn't been touched by me or by President Roslin. I considered searching it myself and removing any evidence, but the officer you're investigating requested that I comply with your investigation."

Picard nodded. He wasn't surprised to see Worf nod along to Adama's words. Bill Adama had a code of honor that rivaled Worf's. Unfortunately that meant that a court martial for Felix Gaeta was that much more likely. "Perhaps then, we should get this over and done with."

"Agreed." Adama said quickly. He was not pleased, Picard could tell, and the looks Roslin threw at him were telling. If Bill Adama had the honor of a Klingon warrior, then Laura Roslin had the sly cunning of a Romulan politician. If it had been Roslin's decision, Picard had no doubt that she would have cheerfully led him to a nicely sanitized lab, and sworn on a stack of their religious scrolls that the place hadn't been touched. And she would have smiled and looked as though she was an angel from heaven, of that he had no doubt.

Adama led them through the winding metal corridors. Roslin was at his side. She was angry, but not angry enough to slip and demand answers in front of Starfleet officials. It was, Picard suspected, wrapped up in religion for Roslin. He had thumbed through copies of the colonial scripture himself, out of curiosity, and he was frankly impressed with how Felix Gaeta hadn't taken advantage of the colonial people. It would have been very easy to set himself up as a godlike being. After all, Laura Roslin was clearly considered a prophet by the people with just a few vague predictions to her credit.

Although it had already occurred to him, and no doubt to her, that she had won the political jackpot. She had, after all was said and done, led her people to safety after great trials. That was going to be worth another election at least.

The laboratory hatch was closed and locked. Picard waited patiently as Adama opened it. He was surprised when a puff of smoke heralded the door opening, and he could see Adama was surprised as well.

"What the hell?" the man muttered as he stepped into the room. Picard followed, and in the smoky haze, he began to make out the room's features. There was a lot of antiquated laboratory equipment and computers and tables and… Kara Thrace, standing over a metal trash can. There was a fire in the can, burning merrily, and as he and Adama watched, she dropped a colonial uniform shirt into the fire. Then she poured a bottle of what Picard had to assume was the local alcohol onto the fire, making the flames grow. He could see that she had carefully planned the moment

"Kara! What in the name of the gods are you doing?" Adama said, obviously shocked.

Kara looked up. She grinned, as if a delightful joke had just been told. "I'm burning Lt. Gaeta's things."

Adama was taken back, Picard could see that. "Why are you doing that?" he growled.

Kara winked. "Because I don't like him, sir." She held up a small notebook, looked directly at Picard and winked again. Then she dropped it into the lit trashcan. "I hope that wasn't important."

Picard made a point of looking stern, but deep down, he was laughing. Thrace was on record despising Gaeta, so her actions were plausible, and Roslin and Adama were both too obviously shocked to have known what she was up to. And the only physical evidence of a Prime Directive violation had just been destroyed in a way that couldn't be pinned on any of the likely guilty parties.

Chapter Text

It was difficult not to smile with glee as they all walked back to Bill's quarters, but Laura made a point of choking it down. She didn't get the sense that Picard was truly upset about the events of the day, but she suspected that gloating wouldn't go over well. "Admiral Adama, what do you intend to do?"

It wouldn't be good politics to simply let Thrace off the hook, and she didn't think Bill was in the mood to excuse much. He glared at her as he gestured for everyone to take a seat. He thinks I was behind it, she realized with amusement. She would need to talk to him then, because while she had considered having one of his officers toss the lab, Kara was the last person she would have picked. If nothing else convinced her of the existence of the gods, the fact that Starbuck had been the one to save Felix Gaeta from his own actions was a beacon from Athena that the gods were real.. Kara had been found down in the FTL computer core with Gaeta, and Roslin certainly had questions about that, but considering that Gaeta had told Barclay and Racetrack that Kara had killed a Romulan that had attacked him, something had changed Kara's mind. Eventually they would find out what really had happened, but in the meantime she wasn't going to complain with how Thrace had solved the problem.

"Captain Thrace will remain in the brig until charges are brought." Adama looked at Picard, with concern. "I do apologize for Captain Thrace's conduct. She will be disciplined." He hesitated. "I assume you will want to interrogate her concerning her actions…"

Roslin wasn't surprised that Picard shook his head. "That won't be necessary," the Starfleet captain said easily. "Without hard evidence, there's simply no reason to pursue the accusation. I understand from your own records, and from Ambassador Troi, that Dr. Baltar is a less than trustworthy individual so his testimony alone isn't enough. Lt. Cmdr. Gaeta says he doesn't remember the incident and your records bear out his story, that he was seriously ill at the time. Mr. Gaeta did admit to manipulating your route but that isn't considered a major violation." Picard looked at Adama intently. "Capt. Thrace's animosity towards Mr. Gaeta was reported to me. Her actions appear to be… in character, and considering her history with Mr. Gaeta, I am surprised she only destroyed some of his belongings."

His expression seemed to close over as he looked at her. More to her than to Adama, Picard added softly, "I'm not a fool, Madame President. I'm not convinced that this notebook was the only violation, but without a confession, I have to assume that Lt. Cmdr. Gaeta is not guilty of a serious violation of the Prime Directive."

"And?" She waited.

Picard smiled thinly. "You're on probation, Madame President. Once the treaty is signed, you're required to abide by Federation law. Don't let a next time occur, Ms. Roslin. You won't get the benefit of the doubt twice."

She nodded, but she didn't stop smiling. She had won, and she had saved Apollo's child. The gods had helped her save the people. "I understand your concern, but somehow I doubt this will happen again." At Picard's dark look, she made a point of looking more serious. "The people will vote on accepting the treaty offer tomorrow. Frankly I don't see any real opposition." She pointedly looked at Picard. "I assume that now that we're in Federation space that your ship will need to return to it's usual duties."

Picard shrugged. "I plan to stay with your fleet until it reaches it's new colony. If the vote is tomorrow, then it should only a few more days before your people are standing on their new world."

Which was a glorious thought indeed. One that could easily overwhelm her so she clamped down on the thought. "It will be good for the people to feel fresh air on their faces," she said easily. "And the help the treaty promises means we won't be starting this colony with nothing but rags and empty stomach." Already the supply runs had resumed and the Tom Dooley was sending clothes along with food. The sturdy khaki pants and colorful warm shirts had already made their appearance on the Galactica and she had been told by the Tom Dooley quartermaster that the plan was for each member of the fleet to have new clothes within the next seventy two hours. New clothes for a new world, and once the treaty was signed, industrial replicators would be cheerfully making the tools and supplies that a new colony needed. "I don't know that I can ever express how much gratitude we have towards the Federation."

Picard looked at her carefully. "I think that eventually you'll find all debts more than repaid. But considering that conditions will be quite primitive on the new colony for sometime…" He looked at Ambassador Troi. "Perhaps you would like to explain this option, Ambassador."

Luxana Troi nodded, her expression amused. "It hasn't escaped me that Dr. Baltar is severely disturbed. I have a proposal for you."

~*~

The brig wasn't so bad, Kara decided as she stretched out on the small cot. Baltar was being kept in solitary, so she didn't have to listen to him rant and rave about how innocent he was. She didn't even have a guard. Which was especially hilarious considering that she had picked the lock to get into the science lab. She suspected… She could feel a difference in herself, like something that had previously been dormant had been awakened. She was still exhausted, and she was hungry almost to the point where it hurt but picking the lock to the science lab had been surprisingly easy. Easier than it should have been. I wonder, she thought as she stood up shakily, I wonder if it is me…. Or if it wore off. She put her hands on the cell lock and mentally and physically pushed it.

And the cell door clicked and swung open. "Interesting…." She shut the door as the hatch door opened unexpectedly.

Sophia Gaeta stepped in.

"It probably won't wear off," she said as she took up a position in front of the cell. "The ability I mean. I heard you thinking about it…." She looked at Kara intently. "You probably always had the ability, you just never knew it. I wouldn't be surprised if there were a lot of you people that start showing signs." She smiled slightly. "I heard Felix, and I heard you when the Galactica jumped in… He's gotten a lot better at a lot of things… You came close to killing him."

If the tone had been just a little different, Kara would have been afraid. Maybe. "But I didn't. I helped him."

"You saved his life. He was already sick, I saw it on the Enterprise." Sophia crossed her arms. "Felix and I were always stuck with the testing. I was the first female quarter hybrid, he was the first male. The good thing about that testing, I always thought, was that it gave me an idea how hard I could push." She looked around the bare metal room. "This was too much… Even with your help, I think he's lucky he didn't die. He would have died if you weren't there, and for that I have to thank you. And… I think you might have saved him from a welcome home court martial."

"No…" Kara hesitated. "Things happened. Things that can't be taken back. I went down there to kill him," and it hadn't escaped her that Gaeta could have just as easily killed her instead of subduing her, "and I'm not going to lie about that. Or about what happened before. I owed Felix a favor. Over what happened before."

Sophia nodded, her expression mild. "You're not one to admit mistakes, so I'm not going to push. Are you hungry? You should be."

"I could eat," Kara said, not sure where the woman was going.

"If you could have anything, what would you want?" Sophia pressed.

Kara considered it. "A rare steak off the grill, with mashed potatoes, mushrooms and onions." She wasn't surprised to see Sophia smile and then tap her communicator. In seconds, a sparkling wave appeared and disappeared, leaving behind a large tray of food. A tray that held the first piece of real red meat she had seen in years. She could see steam rising off the food, and her stomach grumbled but she didn't ask.

She had some pride after all. And she wasn't clear what sort of game Sophia was playing.

"What you did burns calories. That's why Dr. T'Kil had you drinking a protein shake, but you're probably going to feel unusually hungry for the next few days… and I've seen the food here, and Felix is alive because of you, so…" She shoved the tray through the slot built into the cell. "You need to eat in order to recover, and seeing my brother alive after ten years is worth a decent meal or two."

Kara took the tray but hesitated. "How… is Felix?" He had looked comatose the last time she had seen him.

Sophia looked both worried and pleased. "He'll be all right. He was too thin to begin with and I think he burned off about ten pounds he didn't have to lose doing this jump, but he'll be all right. He's not going to be able to pull this kind of a stunt for at least a month, and he'll need to spend a lot of time eating, but he'll recover."

It was good news. It made the perfectly rare steak taste even better. Her only remaining concern was what would happen to Baltar.

~*~

He slowly came back to awareness. I'm not dead, was Felix's first thought. He let that roll around in his head for a while, too tired to try to manage more than that. Eventually though, he started to become more aware of himself. He was lying on a bed, not a particularly soft bed either. There was an undercurrent of chatter, and electronic beeps. The sickbay, he realized, on the Galactica and the mere act of making the connection made his brain ache. He let himself drift, knowing instinctively that he wasn't yet ready to be awake. The tingling was still there, and he felt oddly disconnected, blunted.

The problem was that while he felt like his entire body had been dipped in lead, he didn't feel like he could go back to sleep. He tingled and ached, and he was ravenously hungry. That was a symptom he recognized, and it meant he had to wake up, if just so he could eat and then go back to sleep. But even opening his eyes felt like an effort… He was in a hospital bed, propped up, and someone had thoughtfully thrown a blanket over him. He could feel its scratchy texture against his skin, and the hypersensitivity was another thing that he could tick off as a symptom that he had pushed too hard. It also helped him realize that someone had relieved him of his clothes which meant he had been lying in Cottle's personal territory for over an hour.

But his feet were cold, and he could feel someone touching them, and after a moment of effort, he opened his eyes. Much to his surprise, Serena was at the foot of his bed and she was…doing something. "Hey…" he said, suddenly aware of how dry his mouth felt. "What… what are you doing?"

She was in a Starfleet uniform, blue for sciences, with her rank of lieutenant displayed on her uniform. Of all of the things he had learned about what his family had been doing for the last ten years, that Serena had left active duty in Starfleet had been no surprise at all. She had the discipline to do well, but she had always been a lone wolf and she certainly had never been one for rules.

She smiled at him and held up a small device. "I got bored watching you sleep so I was doing your nails so you'll look pretty for Mom."

He took a closer look. Sure enough, his toenails were brightly, and he suspected, quite fashionably adorned with colorful patterns. "What? Why are you here?"

Serena rolled her eyes. "Mom and Dad are coming. Mom pulled strings to hop a ride on one of the ships bringing out aid. They're going to be here in about ten hours and you look like complete shit. You know what will happen if Mom finds you laid up in a hospital bed. She'll freak. And Dad… "

After a moment, he nodded. "I don't want to upset them…" As he said it, he realized just how ridiculous that had to sound. "I'm sorry…"

Serena shrugged. "It wasn't easy… it wasn't easy for any of us, when you went missing but I get the impression that the last ten years hasn't been a barrel of laughs for you either, little brother. I didn't mean to make you feel guilty with what I said, before." She smiled suddenly. "It never changes. You've been gone for ten years and as soon as I know you're ok, we're right back to snipping with each other. I think sometimes, I missed having you around to be angry at. And then I'd feel bad about that."

Which was different but he didn't go there. He and Serena had always fought like cats and dogs and he had never really understood why at the time. Over the years though, it had occurred to him that Serena had been jealous of him. Jealous that he had stolen her place as the youngest, jealous that he was the boy that his father had so clearly wanted. Which made his own jealousy of her seem slightly ridiculous. Serena had grown up and so had he, and he knew she was there at his bedside because despite all the arguments, they were family and she loved him and was worried about him.

That was good to know. But despite how rotten he felt, he couldn't resist a dig. "I'm touched you're impersonating a Starfleet officer just to be at my bedside."

"I'm a reserve officer now," she said, "and really, I would have thought that security wouldn't be so lax on the Enterprise. I mean, any idiot can replicate a uniform. Now," she covered up his painted toes with the blanket and handed him a bottle that clearly held a protein drink. "You will drink this with no whining, and then you're going to eat something decent. Then you will shower and shave. Mom and Dad need to see you on your feet, looking at least a little ok. They need to know you're ok, Felix. They really do. Until they see you standing and looking at least a little healthy, they're not going to really believe you're here. I know I didn't think it was true until I saw you."

"I feel awful," he admitted as he sipped the orange colored protein drink.

"You should. You blew a fuse. Don't even think about trying any of your tricks for at least two weeks. Sophia and I both heard you coming in, and you probably gave Ambassador Troi a headache. So don't try anything. Trust me on that. You'll just hurt yourself. You had seizures. But don't worry, it will come back. Julia did something like this a few years ago…. She had seizures and she couldn't hear thoughts for close to two weeks. Don't push yourself… you're lucky you had someone nearby with talents. And what was up with that? Isn't she the one who tried to kill you?"

"People change," Felix said after a moment. He was curious about what Julia had been up to, but he had more pressing questions. "Is Kara all right?" He could remember asking her for help and letting her take control but after that, it was all a blur of pain. And… "What about the notebook?"

Serena waved her hand. "Thrace is fine. She's definitely got the Palamas genes but I think you were right when you called her a throwback. Although all of the exchange officers seem to buzz a little. And your stupid notebook? Thrace apparently burned it in front of Picard. I heard that she's in the brig but no one seems all that mad… and what the hell were you thinking?"

"I think I was running a fever at the time… I don't even remember it." He sipped the protein drink again and tried not to gag. "How did you get on board?"

"Your little girlfriend knows people. She's here, by the way. She's keeping the doctors at bay." Serena smiled. " I like her, Felix. Now, keeping drinking that, and tell me everything you know about Lee Adama." 

Chapter Text

Racetrack looked up from the voting booth when Reg Barclay stepped into the small room. It was always obvious when a Starfleet officer came into the voting room. The civilians all turned to look, and Reg seemed startled by the sudden attention. She grinned and waved him over. He certainly wasn't the best looking of the Starfleet officers, but she had never been one to pick on looks. Great looking men like Lee Adama tended to be snobs and Reg was clever and fun to talk to.

And he wasn't exactly ugly either. "Reg, what are you doing here?" It wasn't exactly off limits, but their leader, Cmdr. Riker, had made a point of explaining that Starfleet and the Federation was not to interfere or suggest a particular path for the colonists. It was a nice gesture, Margaret supposed, but so far she hadn't heard anyone say that they thought leaving Federation space was smart. Most of the civilian voters had been comparing their new clothes and talking about which new planet they had voted for. Her own unofficial mental poll told her that not only would they soon be Federation citizens but that they would be settling on the third planet choice, a world that was slightly larger but similar in many ways to Caprica. There were two moons and other planets in the system that could be terra formed later. It was off the beaten path of Federation travel but not at the edges of their territory. It had reassured her, that was the truth, that the colonists weren't being tricked into taking a lesser planet. They were a little soft, the Federation, but they were honest.

"I uh… was looking for you," Reg said. He blushed as he spoke. One of the older civilian women winked at her as she left the voting room and Margaret realized that any number of the older voters found the situation amusing.

She wasn't going to let them embarrass Reg, who was clearly trying to be more social than his nature allowed. "What did you need, Reg?"

"Major Adama isn't returning to the Enterprise for the talks and Cmdr. Riker suggested that we ask around and see who might… want to be exchange officers during the talks… I thought maybe you'd like to see how a Starfleet ship works… I could show you around…."

He was trying to ask her out. Like a date, and it was so cutely awkward, she couldn't resist. She pulled him into her arms and kissed him. After a moment he returned the kiss and suddenly the room seemed to explode in applause. Margaret didn't let it bother her, drawing back only when she was done. "Reg," she said with a smile on her face, "I would love to see how you live on the Enterprise."

"Good," he said softly, "because I have a holodeck program that you're going to love."

~*~

It had to have worked, Baltar thought as he paced in his cell. It had to have worked, because no one had come for him. Laura Roslin was not one to leave loose ends. She would have seen to it that an accident occurred if there weren't official eyes on her. The guards wireless told him that the treaty offer had been accepted. There would be some finagling and debating, and talks with ambassadors and representatives, but the people of the Twelve Colonies were soon to be official Federation citizens. Roslin had lost her chance to have him quietly murdered. The Federation had laws and that meant at the very least that he would soon have a trial.

A trial that wouldn't end in a death sentence at least, and he suspected, based on the conspicuous silence, that he had opened the can of worms that would save him from a lifetime behind bars. He was almost certain of it. It was the waiting that made him pace.

Six watched him, her red cocktail dress a jarring contrast to the cell as always. "You look deliciously pleased with yourself, Gaius. Do you think your plan to open Pandora's Box has worked?"

"Perhaps," Baltar allowed. There was a chance, after all, that it would fail. He wouldn't truly feel safe until he was off the Galactica and out of Laura Roslin's reach.

Six looked at him, her eyes sparkling with an emotion he couldn't quite place. "How did the story of Pandora end?"

Teasing, he realized, she was teasing him as always and he ignored it. He continued pacing around the cell. The wireless had been noticeably silent on where Felix Gaeta was and what exactly he had done to fix the Galactica's FTL drive and he wondered about that. It would queer the whole plan if Gaeta died. His leverage, his ability to blackmail would be gone and that worried him. If he went to the new colony with the rest of the colonial people, he was quite certain he'd be dead within a short time. But he had hope.

The brig hatch opened, and he struggled not to smile with glee as Ambassador Troi strode in, followed by two female Starfleet officers, and then Laura Roslin. Roslin looked at him with something like disgust and pity. "Dr. Baltar," she said quietly, "I believe you've already met Ambassador Troi of Betazed. This is Dr. Beverly Crusher, of Starfleet, and Lt. Cmdr. Deanna Troi."

"I brought them here to evaluate you," the Ambassador said, her voice rolling with amusement. Baltar realized in horror that the older woman had somehow tricked him. She was not some easily fooled politician, but… something far more sinister. He tried not to panic as the Ambassador turned to the red haired woman. "Dr. Crusher, when I first met Dr. Baltar, I was… surprised that there seemed to be a second presence in his mind. Multiple personalities are rarely so distinct in humans."

"It's exceedingly rare as a diagnosis," Crusher said.

"And Dr. Baltar doesn't fit the profile," the younger Troi said. She looked directly at him and he struggled to maintain his composure. It was like she was looking right at his soul, more disconcerting by how she broke her gaze to look directly at Six. Then she looked at the Ambassador. "I see what you mean."

"It was odd," the Ambassador allowed. "But after reading the reports on your Cylons, I had an idea. Dr. Baltar, you wouldn't mind a medical scan, would you?"

"I'm not a Cylon!" he shouted. He had no idea what sort of game they were playing but he wasn't about to fall into that trap.

"We don't think you're a Cylon," Crusher said as she held up a small scanner. "We do think you're mentally ill and unstable." She ran the scan. "And, you're infested with nanites." Crusher looked at Ambassador Troi. "You were right."

"Nanites?" Baltar felt his blood seem to freeze. Beside him, Six laughed.

"Nanites," Crusher said again. "The remaining biological Cylons have allowed me to examine them and they all have nanites colonies that affect their personalities. Their bodies are cloned and the nanites are infused with the previously recorded memories and personalities. You have Cylon nanites. Specifically you have the nanites of a Number Six."

Six laughed again. "I told you. I told I was inside you."

"Shut up!" he shouted. "You are not inside me!" He realized his mistake too late.

"And who exactly are you talking to, Dr. Baltar?" Roslin stepped closer to the bars, a slight smile on her face.

"I… don't know what you mean." It was better to be crazy than a Cylon collaborator. Just because people from the Federation were, it didn't mean Roslin couldn't arrange something. "I am not a Cylon and I do not have a nanites infestation!"

"Dr. Baltar, did a Cylon ever bleed on you while you had open wounds?" Crusher asked, her tone surprisingly gentle.

The problem was that it had happened. Six had covered him with her body during the nuclear blast that hit Caprica City so long ago. The glass had gone everywhere. He had been cut in numerous places and he had been so shocked, he had cradled Six's body for a few moments. And…. "I never even saw a Cylon until I was on the Galactica!"

"He's lying," Ambassador Troi said simply.

"And regardless of the nanites issue, there's a variety of personality disorders in play here. Narcissism at the very least." Lt. Cmdr. Troi added. "Which does lead to a problem for you, Madame President."

"A problem?" He didn't bother concealing the panic in his voice.

"You need professional medical help, Dr. Baltar." Crusher said it matter of factly. "The nanites can't be removed and they are programmed for the personality of a Number Six Cylon. It's…. rather obvious that you hallucinate, and the separate personality that Ambassador and Cmdr. Troi sense is the personality of the nanite construct. Unfortunately we can't remove the nanites without killing you, and personality disorders are incredibly difficult to treat even now."

"That's why I offered to help." Ambassador Troi smiled, but he knew it was the smile of a shark circling it's prey. "It's rather obvious that the people of the Twelve Colonies don't have the resources to handle a severely disturbed individual like yourself, but on Betazed, we have many facilities that could help Dr. Baltar or at least keep him from harming others."

He suddenly realized just how Laura Roslin was planning to get rid of him. "I am not insane!"

"Of course you'll get a hearing," Roslin said. "The Federation will actually demand it. You're quite lucky that Ambassador Troi offered to take you to a proper facility though. Frankly even with Federation assistance, it will be years before we have decent mental health facilities."

"I am not mentally disturbed!" He shouted it again but it was clear that they weren't listening. So he decided to try a different tact. "What about the notebook? Lt. Gaeta violated your Prime Directive! There is a notebook full of technical writing!"

"He might have done exactly as you say," Roslin said, "but the only notebook we found was burned by Captain Thrace in front of witnesses."

"Lt. Cmdr. Gaeta will receive a reprimand for manipulating the course of the fleet," the younger Troi added, " but there is no proof that he did anything more than that. You are the only witness to the notebook and even if you weren't suffering from a nanite infestation and personality disorders, your word is not enough to condemn another man. As a Starfleet counselor, it is my duty to inform you that you do have a right to a hearing and a medical examination to determine your mental state. If you are found mentally ill, due to the personality disorders I can sense or due to the second personality lodged in your body due to the presence of nanites, you will be remanded to a facility to treat your illness. You are fortunate in that you're being offered a place in a facility on Betazed. You'll be treated with dignity and respect despite your…obvious mental illness."

"I am NOT mentally ill!" But the women didn't even look back as they filed out, although Roslin smirked as she closed the hatch door.

"Don't be sad, Gaius," Six said as she grabbed a hold of him and began unbuckling his pants. "I told you that you and I would never be alone again."

He couldn't help it, he screamed.

Chapter Text

Lee stepped into the small quarters that had been given to Roslin for the duration of the treaty talks. "Madame President? The Admiral wanted you to know that the new delegation will be arriving in two hours." The new delegation was the more formal group of diplomats who were going to finalize the treaty with the Twelve Colonies. He was also fairly certain, from Serena, that Felix Gaeta's parents were on the USS Nautilus with the batch of diplomats and that was likely to cause some consternation among the more religious in the fleet. It was already going about that Gaeta had used "godlike powers" to save the Galactica. Having his mother, who according to the records he had read and according to Serena, was much more gifted had the potential to be awkward.

Roslin stepped out of the tiny bedroom, wearing a blue dress that he had never seen before. It was a color that suited her, he thought suddenly, and he hadn't seen her look so carefree in years. Ever, really. "How do I look?" she asked, a smile on face.

"Stunning," he said. "Like the president of the Twelve Colonies, ready to negotiate. Where did you get this?"

"It was a gift from Ambassador Troi. It was thoughtful of her so I wanted to make sure I wore it for the treaty signing today." She smiled slightly. "You look sharp in your uniform, Captain Apollo."

He smiled, remembering how they had met. "Did you ever think, the day we met, that it would end like this?"

Roslin smiled, but it was a dark look. "I never thought it would end like this, Lee." She stepped forward, her expression serious. "What do you plan to do now? Now that we're settling on a new planet and you don't have to be a viper pilot anymore?"

"I… I don't know," he admitted. " I don't…. I don't see any reason to stay in the military. As near as I can tell… being a viper pilot is soon to be an obsolete skill. I was thinking… of opening a bar." But he didn't go further on how it would be a classy pilot themed bar for political players. He sensed there was more at play.

Roslin grinned. "If I told you that I had something in mind for you that wouldn't… make that impossible… would you be interested?"

"What are you thinking of?" He had some idea. It had already occurred to him that Roslin might be looking for a new presidential aide. He wasn't sure he wanted the job. It seemed like a position that was more work with less freedom than he wanted.

"In six months, we're required to have a new election for all positions. The president, the vice president, and the entire Quorum." She looked at him intently. "I intend to run for president and I want you to run with me, for vice president."

He blinked in surprise. "What about Zarek?" he said, just to buy time.

"I am sure that Tom is already building the opposition," she said easily. "But there is a lot of rebuilding we need to do and… you would be an excellent partner in getting things done." Her eyes glittered in amusement. "I'm not going to lie, Lee. There's political reasons for asking you to step up. You're a hero, a Viper pilot that saved our lives more times than I can count, you're Admiral Adama's son and he saved our lives more than I can count and, most importantly, you're a natural diplomat."

"I'm what?" he said with surprise.

"A natural diplomat," Roslin repeated. "You're… completely natural and in situations that I could only imagine when I first entered politics. That's a gift, Lee. A gift our people need. Please, tell me you'll at least consider it."

After a moment he nodded. It was an intriguing offer, if only because he could see what Roslin meant. "I'm honored, Madame President, but I do have think about it and discuss it with the Admiral. We do still have a military to worry about."

"I think that's a fine idea," Roslin said, her expression suddenly amused. "But don't take too long deciding. We're going to need to send political emissaries to Earth, and you're my first pick."

Which made the offer incredibly tempting but… "Wouldn't you want to go? President has more impact than vice-president in political circles and I get the impression that some of the people in the Federation are sticklers for protocol."

"You'll have to muddle along without me," Roslin said. She smiled slightly at his surprise. "Lee, the prophecy is that the leader of the people dies upon seeing Earth, or just before reaching Earth, or on the way to Earth, depending on the scroll and… I don't see any need to tempt the gods, Lee. That would be foolish, don't you think?"

He could only nod in agreement.

~*~

"You look fine," Tigh said. He took a seat on the worn leather couch. "That uniform isn't going to get any better looking, the more you play with it."

"It's not every day I greet Federation ambassadors," Bill said easily as he adjusted his rank pins. "I'll be glad when this part is over and we're at this new planet, getting the settlement built." He was surprised at how he was looking forward to it. It was hard to believe that the years of running were really over, but there they were, getting ready to start rebuilding.

"It's going to be good, this time," Tigh said after a long moment. "The new colony, I mean."

"How do you know that?" He agreed, if only because they weren't going to be scratching in the dirt, scrabbling for supplies. The new colony world had a better climate overall, much more similar to Caprica. He was just surprised to hear Tigh say it out loud.

"It feels different." Tigh looked at him. "You know what I mean. I think it helps knowing that the Federation has those big guns to back it up. And that the Cylons are… What are they up too?"

"One of them has assumed temporary command of the Cylon ship, until they have elections." Bill adjusted his uniform one final time and walked over to his desk. "She calls herself Natalie Six and she agreed with me that the Cylons should have a separate meeting with the Federation." He grinned. "She actually said that she wasn't interested in dodging a bullet." She had also calmly stated that she doubted that either side was ready to shake hands and play nice, that time was needed to heal the wounds both sides had inflicted on each other. He had been polite about it. According to Picard, there were only 973 human variant Cylons left alive in the basestar. With the resurrection ship, they could still reanimate their dead, and apparently the Three model was being resurrected, but ultimately the Cylons were in the same position they were. They couldn't return, and they were in a much worse situation from a population standpoint. He didn't feel sorry for them, not really, but he could see how difficult the next few years would be for them. "They're going to accept a treaty with the Federation as well. They're taking the planet that was our third choice."

"The one out near Bajor?" Tigh seemed amused. "I wouldn't want to live there. Too cold and too wet… too much like New Caprica." He eyed Adama shrewdly. "Are you all right with that?"

"No, not really, but they're going to be pretty far away, and we're in no position to complain." And because of their history with genocide, they would be refused weapon technology for a much longer period than the colonial people. And their children would be considered fully human and that was something his own grandchildren would have to make peace with, but there were worse endings to the tale than that. He looked at Tigh. "Are you all right with that?"

"I'd still like to blow that base star out of the sky," Tigh said after a moment. "But I haven't."

Which was a level of restraint that Bill hadn't thought possible of Saul Tigh just after the rescue from New Caprica. But before he could comment, the hatch door opened and Picard stepped in. Adama tried not to smile. Starfleet dress uniforms looked… decidedly unmilitary to his eyes, and Picard almost looked like a man wearing a skirt.

"I wanted to let you know that we're on schedule." Picard said quickly. Adama nodded. That meant in approximately two hours, the official treaty talks would begin. Picard looked at the two of them and smiled pleasantly. "If you have any questions on protocol, or Federation customs, I'd be happy to answer them."

Smooth, Bill thought with some appreciation, Jean-Luc Picard was smooth. Of course they had questions, and Picard was making sure to not *make* them ask questions, but instead was offering the information as a matter of course. A diplomat, for all that he seemed formidable in battle. And the more he read of Starfleet and Federation history, the more he knew that Picard wasn't just the run of the mill officer commanding a ship. "I know I wouldn't mind some pointers."

It helped that Picard wasn't the blowhard that his first officer was.

It was only a few minutes into the lecture that Picard had clearly prepared for them, when he heard the tell tale sound of a transporter. He made a point of not looking surprised. Lee had remarked on how some of the people from Starfleet could be a little condescending and he had noticed that tendency himself. But he was surprised that someone was transporting. As he watched, a short middle aged woman materialized. She was wearing a Starfleet dress uniform, with the rank of admiral and the blue color that indicated that she was involved in the sciences in some way. Her long blond hair was nicely done, and she was slight and petite, and very fair.

Admiral Apollonia Gaeta, Adama realized with surprise. He'd seen pictures but…. "I thought you'd be taller."

She looked at him and smiled wryly. "I had the same thought about you, Admiral Adama."

"Admiral Gaeta," Picard said easily, stepping forward. "The formal meeting is scheduled for two hours from now and I thought it was understood that transporters weren't to be used since the colonial people haven't been fully briefed."

"I don't care," Admiral Gaeta said. "I really could care less about this treaty or where these people plan to go." She glanced at Adama and Tigh. "No offense, of course."

"Of course," Bill said, suddenly amused.

"I'm here to see my son for the first time in ten years." Admiral Gaeta said bluntly to Picard. "I pulled every string a retired admiral from medical services can in order to get out here this fast. I frankly don't care if we're hosting the Klingons, Cardassians, and Romulans in a great big drunken square dance down on the deck of this flying scrap heap. I'm not waiting two hours so that I can see my son for the first time in ten years during a dull, lengthy, overblown diplomatic mission. I'm not. That's simply unacceptable."

Picard didn't flinch at her tone, which impressed Bill, but he also didn't cower despite how obvious it was that the woman wasn't taking no for an answer. "I'm surprised you didn't just demand we transport him to your ship, Admiral. Or transport him yourself."

"I considered that but apparently he's not wearing a combadge, and I didn't want to be rude and randomly kidnap people from this ship, and then interrogate them as to my son's whereabouts." She smiled slightly at Picard. "Then I thought, why not scan for him? After all, Pollux genes stick out… But pretty much everyone on this ship has Pollux genes in some variation and it would be wrong to abuse the Nautilus's short range scanners. So I pulled everything I had learned from reading little girl mystery novels and decided the best way to find what I want is to ask the people who know. Now where is my son? I am trying not to lose my patience, Captain."

That was pointed and direct, Adama thought. He wondered about her comment about Pollux genes though.

Picard nodded. Adama didn't blame him. He personally didn't want to get in between a mother and her child after a ten year absence. "I believe," Picard said softly, "that your son is currently in the Galactica's medical facility."

Admiral Gaeta frowned. "He's in sick bay?"

"I'm told he may have overexerted himself while using his natural talents to save these people from Romulan boarders and should fully recover," Picard said. Adama could see that Apollonia Gaeta was struggling to be patient and he was reminded of the many times he had worried about Lee and how devastating a missing in action notice would have been.

"Admiral Gaeta, it would be my pleasure to escort you there." He held out his arm. "Your son has been one of the finest officers I've ever commanded, and I am sure that you have waited far too long already to see him."

He just hoped, as she took his arm, that Cottle and his assorted horde of Starfleet medical officers had Gaeta up and about and not looking like death warmed over.

Chapter Text

"Dammit, why aren't you bigger?" Serena said in frustration. She let go of the Starfleet dress uniform that Felix was trying on.

"I would like to point out how mad you got when it became clear that I was taller than you." Felix said in response. Dee almost laughed. She didn't, because she had a feeling that Serena would start snapping at her.

"It does look too big," she said finally. "Like a dress." Although she wasn't all that impressed with the Starfleet dress uniform even when it fit correctly. But it did look too large.

Felix shrugged and rubbed the uniform he was wearing. "It is my size…."

"It was your size when the Enterprise found you," Serena said, "And it was a size smaller than when you graduated the Academy and now its too big and *that* should tell you how much energy you burned." She gripped the uniform jacket. "I swear, you're nothing but bone, Felix. Mom is going to force feed you ice cream and baklava. She's going to make you eat in front of her too, you know that, right?"

"I'm so full," Felix grumbled mildly. "I feel like throwing up." Dee tried not to smile. Serena had been forcing a variety of snacks on Felix since he woke up.

"Get used to that," Serena said. "This is what happens when you overdo it. If you throw up anywhere near Mom, she *will* have you flat on your back in the hospital ward until she thinks you're well." Serena rolled her eyes, "Do you have any idea how long it will take her to think you're well? You've been gone ten years, think about it."

To Dee, Felix said "She'll chain me to my bed. If not worse." He brushed off Serena's hands and took a step forward. Then he started to sway and in seconds Dee put her arm around him to keep him from falling to the floor. "I'm still dizzy," he said.

"No, really?" Dee huffed. "I don't think… that this is going to happen," she said to Serena. Felix was fine if he was sitting, although he looked ragged around the edges and exhausted but he wasn't steady on his feet at all. She was no medical expert but she doubted that Felix was going to be able to walk down to the flight deck and stand for possibly an hour while the diplomats talked. She suspected that he would be off the hook as soon as his parents arrived, at least as far as the diplomatic aspects were concerned. But getting him down to the flight deck under his own power seemed unlikely.

"I just… need something to lean on," Felix said.

"I assume that it would be a breach of protocol if he uses you as a crutch," Serena said conversationally. She smirked suddenly and stepped backward. "I don't think its going to be an issue really…"

Dee wasn't sure why Serena was so suddenly amused, but it made her suddenly nervous. Serena seemed like a nice person, but she clearly had a wicked sense of humor and even after a ten year gap wasn't hesitating to taunt her brother. So that she was suddenly backing off and conceding that getting Felix on his feet and to the diplomatic meeting in just an hour wasn't being realistic was… worrisome. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Admiral Adama walk into the large medical bay, with a woman on his arm. A woman that looked a great deal like Serena, except smaller and Dee gripped Felix as she saw the woman let go of Admiral Adama and rush towards them.

"Felix!" The woman grabbed Felix from her and hugged him.

Dee quickly got out of the way. She knew how her own mother would have reacted to not seeing her for ten years. Getting in the way of that was a bad idea. Felix was obviously overwhelmed and for a long moment everyone in the large open sickbay was quiet, watching the joyful reunion. Then there was a roll of applause from the various patients and medical staff. Dee found herself clapping along. It felt good to be happy, to see *someone* have a happy reunion with a loved one that they had thought was lost.

Finally the older woman let go of Felix just a little. "You've gotten taller, I think," Apollonia said, as she wiped her eyes, "and you are nothing but skin and bone, Felix." Dee watched as the woman's grip tightened and her look turned more clinical. "You need to sit down. Didn't I always tell you how careful you need to be? This is what happens." Her attention seemed to change, if only for a moment. "Why is no one bringing Felix a chair? You, get Felix a chair, now."

Her tone was commanding, and all the more hilarious because she snapped her fingers at Admiral Adama, who merely shrugged and pulled over one of the chairs that people often used for patient visits. "Yes sir," he said with no small amount of amusement.

Felix wasn't quite so amused. "Mom… That's Admiral Adama… This is his ship." Dee covered her smile as he slid down into the chair.

"Lt. Gaeta…" Adama said easily, "Another lesson I forgot to give you on command is this. In many situations, an admiral is always outranked by a mother."

Apollonia nodded. " I see you're a man of wisdom, Admiral Adama." She turned her attention back to Felix. "Now, I'm your mother, and I outrank everyone here. You are too sick to attend this treaty negotiation, particularly since you don't have any need to be there. You are going to rest and tell me what you've been doing. Is that understood, young man?" Dee noted with amusement that all while she spoke, Felix's mother was clearly sizing him up and fussing over his too big uniform.

"Yes… yes ma'am," Felix said hesitantly. Dee saw in her mind exactly how the next few days were going to go for him. She had no doubt that Admiral Gaeta was going to make sure he was on her ship, in her quarters, being fussed over like a child that had gotten lost and then found a little worse for wear. Embarrassing but she thought Felix needed a few days of sleep, decent food and family affection. She was almost jealous.

"And who are you?" Apollonia suddenly asked. Dee jumped as the older woman turned her attention to her.

"I uh…"

"This is Felix's girlfriend, Mom." Serena said it brightly. "Her name is Dee, and they are just adorable together. You should get to know her. I'm sure Admiral Adama can spare her. I have someone I'd like you to meet as well but it can wait… I doubt Major Adama can get out of attending the diplomatic meeting."

"It would be awkward, yes," Adama allowed, his eyes crinkling with amusement. "But I can certainly spare Lt. Dualla if you want to… get to know her."

"That's settled then," Apollonia said easily. She looked Dee over. "This should be… fun."

Dee suddenly realized that she was ensnared in the same trap as Felix.

~*~

It was late but Laura was still feeling the rush of excitement from the negotiations. "Do you realize," she said as she took a seat on the soft leather couch, "that we are going to have more supplies than we know what to do with? And that we have concessionary rights to the FTL drive and to the flights suits?"

She hadn't expected to get them. She almost hadn't asked, it had almost seemed too greedy but as soon as she had mentioned it, the various delegates had agreed. That meant that the new colony would soon be rolling in credits. Free aid was wonderful, and she intended to make sure that the Federation's generosity wasn't abused and repaid at some point, but it was good for the moral of the people to know that they wouldn't be living on charity for long.

Bill shrugged as he poured her a glass of wine. Picard had given the both of them several bottles. Hers had come with surprisingly fussy instructions on how to open the bottles and let the wine "breath", instructions that she noted with amusement that Bill was following. He handed her a glass of the dark red beverage. "I'm starting to like this stuff," he said as he sat down beside her. "It seemed like we got the best of the bargains."

She smiled as she took a sip. "I agree." There had been some tough moments but she rather thought that her people had gotten the best deal possible. The Federation laws weren't that different for most of the people. The Gemonese would be the most difficult but they already had four years of living differently under their belts. The priests and priestesses, the few that remained, already had a hard time keeping their supposed followers from straying to the less involved practices of the other colonists and with certain things now forbidden by law, they would have to adapt. Everyone would. "I worry a bit about agreeing to accept colonists from Earth and its satellite worlds. They'll change things, bring new customs…."

"That's not a bad thing, Laura." He let his free hand entwine with hers. "We're not the same people we were when this all began. We're older, tougher… and a lot less trusting. It took a while for this to sink in, that we were safe. It's going to be harder for some, and having some new faces to look at, new friends and neighbors who aren't scarred by the Cylons. We need that. I think we need that more than the skills that they'll bring with them… And we need the skills. Especially since we're all going to need crash courses in the basics." He smiled slightly. "Apparently there's a lot of technical things we need. Jack Cottle was just about drooling over their medical tech. It was nice to see him happy for a change."

"And Lt. Gaeta's father…" She chuckled at the memory. Dr. Vincente Gaeta had been easy to spot coming off one of the first shuttles. He was unmistakably an older, larger version of his son but…. "He actually picked you up."

"I though he was going to break my ribs," Bill allowed, his smile growing broader. "I knew one of his parents had to be big, after meeting his sister, but I didn't expect someone a full head taller than me and built like a truck. He seemed nice enough…. Asked permission for his staff, as he put it, to run around the ship interviewing people and take their pictures."

"He mentioned that to me, and that there were any number of historians who want permission to talk to us as well." But suddenly she felt the wine hit her and she leaned on Bill's shoulder. "You know something, Bill?"

"What?" he asked gently as he put his arm around her.

"We did it. I never… I never thought it would happen like this. And here we are." Laura let herself relax in his arm. "And now what do we do?"

"We rebuild. We never forget the past, but we move forward." Suddenly he leaned in and kissed her. She was surprised but she returned it willingly. He drew back just a little, his eyes amused. "And maybe we should take some advice we got recently. About stopping the denial?"

A big surprise, but one she welcomed. "Well, I suppose now that we've found Earth, everyone is going to need something else to talk about. It's going to be hard to top Lt. Gaeta being part god." Then she grinned. "But we can certainly try."

fin

Chapter Text

It began with Karl "Helo" Agathon, flying a CAP with a nugget fresh out of training instead of Sharon. He preferred to fly with Sharon, and he suspected that everyone else preferred not to fly with his wife, despite playing lip service to accepting her, but the harsh reality was that they had a child. A child who needed to be watched, and he had a hard time wrangling a babysitter for the same reason that Sharon had a hard time finding flight partners.

"Easy on the stick, Stick," he said as the Raptor rocked none too gently. It rocked again, hard, so hard he almost fell out of his seat. "Dammit Stick, you're supposed to know how to frakking fly!"

"Sir…" Helo turned at the frightened word, and looked out the Raptor's window. Stick looked back at him, his face white. "Sir, what… is that?"

"Frakked if I know," Helo said as he looked at the bizarre ship. It was like a saucer, with a long neck attached to a much smaller body, with two glowing pylons attached. It was almost comically off balanced looking, but after a moment, Helo shook it off. "Take pictures and readings and then we turn the CAP around. Did you guys catch that?"

The line crackled. "You don't have to tell me twice," Stinger said.

"Same here," Hotdog added. "Do you think it's the Cylons?"

"I don't know but we need pictures to show the Admiral so run your gun cameras." Helo felt an odd chill as he looked at the ship. They hadn't seen the Cylons in months and he had a feeling he was looking at something entirely different.

~*~

"What in the name of the gods is that?" Bill Adama muttered as he looked at the gun camera pictures. Laura couldn't help but nod in agreement. The bizarre looking ship on the film was strange and frightening. Almost alien.

It was lucky that she had been on the Galactica for a meeting when the CAP made its first report on the wireless. She had asked to attend the briefing, and she had made sure that the Admiral included all of his staff, not just Tigh, Lee, and Kara. It was intentional on her part. She looked away from the pictures and looked at the amassed officers. It took her just a moment to find Lt. Gaeta, standing in the back. She was almost certain she knew the answer to her question when she saw his face. He was shocked, liked the others, but it was different. It was the shock of seeing someone, or something, that he had thought was lost forever, not the wide eyed shock of seeing something new. It was frightening, considering what she thought of his mental state but for the moment not the most important issue. She met his eyes, and after a moment, he seemed to shake off his reverie. He nodded, almost imperceptivity.

And in that moment Laura Roslin felt her fear shift away from the terror of the unknown to the lesser fear of how she was going to accomplish what she needed in order to save her people. The gods have led us to safety, she thought with no small amount of relief, but it would still be tricky. Gaeta's visions were always couched in a rich science fiction like fantasy of aliens allied with humans and a vastly superior technology set.

She had prayed for his visions to be correct, but she allowed that what he saw, and told her about, was a vision and not necessarily accurate. Earth was real, and Earth would help them and save them. But a fantastic organization of multiple species running around the galaxy… she wasn't ready to accept that. That was one of the reasons she had agreed to keep his visions from the gods to herself. The other was that she was afraid he would end up locked up in the brig, medicated to control the delusions.

She didn't have time to think about it, or about how likely it was that Gaeta would decompensate mentally once he found out that his vision wasn't picture perfect exact. Not when she suspected that convincing Bill Adama to make contact was going to be extremely difficult.

Bill was frowning at the information on the gun camera films. "It doesn't look like the Cylons," he said finally. "But we can't afford to investigate. Get emergency jump coordinates ready. We're getting out of here. Get the Raptors landed, and get the fleet ready to move." The officers all began to move.

And that was something Gaeta had predicted as well. She didn't argue with the Admiral. His decision was logical and made perfect sense. He saw a strange unknown ship and he had defenseless ships to protect. She had always understood the necessity of Gaeta's plan, that it would be necessary to force contact, but it wasn't a pleasant thought. She kept her eye on the action as everyone began to move. Hoping it looked natural, she carefully walked over to the navigation and FTL board where Gaeta was working quickly to disperse the jump coordinates. "Jump coordinates are ready, sir," he said as she approached. "Dradis shows unknown ship moving closer."

"As soon as the fleet jumps, we'll follow. Mr. Gaeta, spin the FTL drive." Bill kept his eyes on the overhead dradis.

Laura looked at Gaeta. "Are you certain?" she mouthed to him.

His eyes seemed to flare. "Yes. Get away from this station." His words were hissed under his breath as he looked at the console. There was an odd, bitter feel to the air, as if something was being charged, and she took the hint and backed away. Gods, she prayed, please don't let this be a mistake.

"The Fleet has jumped," Tigh called over the bustle of people. The CIC seemed more full than usual with Kara Thrace and Lee Adama, amongst others, there instead of running down to the flight deck.

"Execute jump," Adama said as he looked at the dradis. For an instant, it seemed the same as always and then the ship seemed to shake and groan. The lighting flickered and she jumped as the FTL console exploded with sparks, slamming Gaeta back into the computer banks behind him. That wasn't what she expected, but she quickly went to Adama's side as he began to bark orders for damage control.

"Come on," Lee said to Kara and the other pilots. They started to head to the door. To get to the landing bay. To launch an attack of course.

"Mr. Gaeta, what in hell just happened?" Adama snapped as Gaeta stood up shakily. She didn't think Gaeta was going to answer when the man began to point at the console, his hands shaking.

"I… I don't… the system cascaded…" He began punching buttons. Then he looked up, his expression ash white. "It's not responding… we can't jump."

"Fix it. Now." Adama said. "Colonel, get the pilots ready to launch and execute firing solution." His control was masterful, but she saw the real fear in his eyes. She felt it herself, despite what she knew. Looking at the crew made her feel worse, she could see the panic starting to touch them. The Galactica couldn't jump, and the strange new ship was coming closer by the second. She watched worriedly as Gaeta aimlessly poked at the console with his burned hands.

"Sir?" Everyone looked at Lt. Dualla, who also looked grey faced with shock. She was holding out her comm set to the Admiral, her expression almost dazed. "The ship…. They're… asking to speak to whoever is in command."

As he grabbed the comm headset, Laura reached out and took one from one of the other com officers. The situation was grim enough that Bill didn't even react to it, except to wait for her be ready. She would have ignored him anyway. She had to know what was said.

She had to make sure things didn't explode.

~*~

"What are these ships doing out here?" Riker asked as they looked at the scans of the large fleet.

"They all appear to be sub warp vessels," LaForge said. "Big, slow, no shielding to speak of. Primitive designs." He looked at Picard. "Good designs, but primitive. The long range scans indicate they're using some sort of solid fuel."

"Primitive…" Picard considered that as the Enterprise moved closer to the strange fleet of ships. They had spotted three small ships on long range scan and had tried to hail them with no response. "If they're that primitive, perhaps they didn't hear our hail. Let's try something a little more simplistic." It was concerning, finding a fleet of primitive ships right at the edge of the Neutral Zone. Made even stranger by the scanner reports that the ships were packed full of humans, over forty thousand. A few people, risk takers, adventurers, and the occasional well intentioned fool, made their way to the Neutral Zone for the thrill and rewards. Most never came back, and the numbers and ships were always small. The fleet they were tracking was enormous and moving in a direction that suggested that they had very carefully avoided Romulan space on their way into Federation territory. That and the unique design of the primitive ships made him very curious.

Riker nodded. "We could try radio waves."

"Make it so, Number One." Picard watched on the view screen as the ships came into focus. Then, in seconds, all of the ships but the largest, a hulking scarred behemoth three times the size of a Federation heavy cruiser, simply disappeared. "What just happened?" he asked as he swiftly stepped over to the sensor console.

"Scanners report minor fluctuations of energy in the ships." Data said quickly. "The remaining ship showed the same fluctuations and then a large surge. Long range scanners can not locate the ships that… transported."

Picard considered that carefully. There had been some unpleasant rumblings from the Romulans and Cardassians in the last year. The Federation was still recovering from the Borg attack, and what he had just seen…had interesting implications. "Hail the remaining ship. Use radio broadcasting."

Data opened the signal for him. "Unidentified ship, this is Captian Jean-Luc Picard of the USS Enterprise. We mean you no harm. I would like to speak to your captain."

The line crackled. "Yes sir…I mean, just one moment, please." He almost smiled at the young woman's frightened tone. He didn't, because he suspected that the other ships had disappeared because whoever was in charge was badly frightened.

That was evident by the number of rail guns already taking aim on the Enterprise. Whoever they were, they didn't seem to know they were hopelessly outgunned. Or they weren't willing to go down without a fight.

"This is Admiral Adama of the Galactica," rumbled a new, harsh male voice.

"And President Laura Roslin of the Twelve Colonies of Kobol." A woman, older sounding. "Who are you?"

"I am Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the USS Enterprise. Your ship is dangerously close to the Neutral Zone. Do you require assistance?" There was a lengthy pause.

Troi came up beside him. "They're extremely frightened. I can sense it from here."

Picard nodded. He didn't recognize the name the woman had said, and a glance at Data and Riker told him that they didn't recognize the names either. "I'm unfamiliar with the names of your vessel or your world. Are you members of the Federation or are you from a non aligned colony world?"

He was fairly certain, based on the other ships disappearing in a way that he had never seen, that they weren't from a Federation world. A colony, or twelve perhaps, that had been established and lost, and that meant a light hand. Whoever they were, they were scared and that meant the situation could turn volatile in an instant.

"What Federation?" the man, Adama said.

"The United Federation of Planets." Picard said easily. "You are currently within our borders, and we welcome meeting new peoples. The Romulan Empire isn't as friendly. If you step into their territory, they will react badly."

There was muffled talk, as though people were covering the microphone with their hands, as if that could completely blot out the conversation. Finally, the woman, Roslin, spoke. "You said you were from the United Federation of Planets, correct?"

"Yes." And her tone indicated that she had no idea what that really was. Not exactly a first contact, in that the people in the ships were human, but the survivors from rogue colonies could often be more difficult than non-humans.

The radio signal crackled. "Captain Picard," Roslin said carefully. "This Federation…is… Earth a member of it?"

Troi grabbed his arm. "Sir, that is a very important question to them. They must be broadcasting this conversation in their ship. When she said Earth… It's like they're all holding their breath."

"I hope I don't disappoint them," Picard said, smiling slightly. He did nod to Riker though, to keep close eye on things. He signaled for the transmission to continue. "As a matter of fact, Earth is one of the founding members of the Federation. I was born on Earth. Any number of my crew were as well, or on planets settled by humans from Earth."

It was clear by the sudden whoops of glee, shouting, and joyous laughing, that he had said the right thing.

"That seems to have cheered them up," Riker said easily. "The weapons seem to have been deactivated."

"And get a load of that," LaForge said excitedly as the huge ship seemed to unfold from the sides. "I think those things are landing bays, sir."

"Agreed, and these people seem to very excited to know that Earth is part of the Federation." Picard waited a few moments longer, and then tried the radio transmission again. "It seems I just gave you some good news, President Roslin."

Chapter Text

"I still disagree with this, sir," Riker said again as they walked down the corridor to the shuttle bay.

"I know, Number One." Picard said. "But I think at this point, it would only make these people more paranoid if I send someone else." After the happy cheering had died off on the radio, Laura Roslin had invited him over to the Galactica to start diplomatic relations. He had agreed. "The potential offense we would give at making a last minute change is greater than the danger the away team faces. Their entire fleet has been scanned and there's no sign that these people have any sort of transporter technology. If there is an emergency, the away team can be transported out. However, I doubt that will be an issue."

"Agreed," Troi piped in. "These people are frightened but also extremely hopeful. The potential for hostile action is very low."

Riker shrugged good naturedly. "I can only give the advice, sir." He grinned. "You'll be sure to ask them about their ability to make their ships disappear though."

"It may not be the first question," Picard said easily. "But I have it on the agenda, be assured of that." Once they had spoken to Admiral Adama and President Roslin, the newcomers had sent one of their small shuttle craft to their fleet's secret location and told them to return. The scanner still couldn't make sense of it. The scans also revealed over forty one thousand people in the various ships, and nothing that looked like food replicator technology. Roslin had said that they were refugees, their colonies had been destroyed, and he already suspected that they were going to need some serious help.

Beverly Crusher was waiting by the shuttle, with Lt. Leybenzon, who would be acting as both pilot and security. She smiled thinly at him as they got into the shuttle and took off. "According to the scans, these people will likely need a lot of assistance."

"Refugees usually do," Picard said easily. "I'm more curious about where they came from. The course heading they were on makes it look like they were coming out of the Neutral Zone or skirting around it." Which was dangerous, especially in vessels in such poor condition, not to mention that he had never heard of their colonies.

As they came up on the Galactica, he was intrigued by the design. It made him realize that the colonists weren't from a failed Earth colony that had lost touch with the home world like he originally thought. The technology of their landing deck looked quaint until he factored in the reality that they were running the entire gigantic ship off of some sort of solid fuel. The landing bay seemed ridiculously large, but he allowed that without transporters, it was necessary. It was fascinating to consider, he thought suddenly, what space technology looked like when it wasn't influenced by outside forces.

"They've got magnetic locks," Lt. Leybenzon said as the shuttle set down on the deck. "And airlocks… primitive looking, but safe." He grinned as the shuttle was directed into the open bay. "I don't know what you told them, sir, but they seem to have invited the whole crew to say hello."

Picard looked through the shuttle's window. There was a mass of uniformed personnel in rows but also crowds of men and women on the rising catwalks, some holding up children to see. More were waving their hands and drinking from bottles.

"They seem friendly," Beverly said after a moment.

These people are in serious trouble, Beverly thought as she stepped off the shuttle and onto the metal deck. She was certain that Jean Luc was noticing some of the same things she was, the worn clothes, the thin, pale faces. The landing deck itself looked tired and dirty. It was a refugee ship and she already began ticking off the problems. They're going to need food, she thought quickly, we'll need to get some supplies over here. They were pretty far from the nearest star base but if help was needed, it could be there fairly quickly. Just looking around, she suspected that it would be necessarily.

There was a row of uniformed men and women in formation. Mostly young people, with a few older ones sprinkled in the crowd. A tall balding man standing ramrod straight was missing an eye, some of the men and women in formation had bruises, and a young man in the front row had burns on his hands. Injuries galore, along with sickness.

A older man, with a craggy, scarred face, dressed in the blue uniform that seemed to signify officers stepped forward. A hush immediately fell over the crowd, the only sound the hum of the ship itself and the occasional crying child from the catwalk. The man hesitated just for a moment, for effect, Crusher realized.

"I am Admiral William Adama of the Battlestar Galactica." He gestured to the older woman standing next to him, wearing worn but neat civilian clothes. "This is President Laura Roslin of the Twelve Colonies."

Picard nodded. "I am Captain Jean Luc Picard of the USS Enterprise, and this is my Chief Medical Officer Cmdr. Beverly Crusher. On behalf of the United Federation of Planets, I welcome you and your people. We look forward to getting to know you."

"We appreciate that greatly," Roslin said quickly, "but we are a people without a place to go and we do have enemies that may have tracked us here." She smiled slightly, but was clearly worried. "I thought perhaps we could… have an exchange of information."

"That seems like a good idea," Picard said after a moment. Beverly nodded as well. If she read Laura Roslin correctly, the woman was excited and frightened all at once. It was understandable, particularly since Beverly knew she would find it difficult to be in the position of needing help desperately, and having to admit that there was the possibility of involving her rescuers in a conflict.

"There's a lot to explain," Roslin added worriedly as she led them out of the landing bay and into a small briefing room. Or, at least a room with a metal table and chairs. It occurred to Beverly that the room was probably not the ship's normal briefing room, but a room hastily put together to greet guests and explain their situation. Roslin turned to Adama and quietly said, "I'll need Tory. I'm sure you want Colonel Tigh, and Major Adama, and Lt. Gaeta." Adama seemed to hesitate at her words until she added, "It's your command staff of course. I just want to make sure we can give an accurate picture of the situation."

The dynamic was interesting, Beverly thought as Adama's officers filed in. Adama gestured to each of his men. "This is Colonel Saul Tigh, my executive officer", the one eyed balding man who looked like a tattered war eagle, "Major Lee Adama, commander of the air group," a younger man who didn't look a thing like Adama, but was perhaps the reason the admiral had hesitated, "and Lt. Felix Gaeta, my tactical and navigation officer." That was the young man with the curly dark hair and burned hands. The name niggled in her brain, it was familiar but she couldn't remember why.

And that moment of familiarity wasn't as important as the story that Laura Roslin was telling. Refugees from destroyed worlds, over thirty billion dead and the survivors trudging through space for years, with literally nothing but the clothes on their backs and whatever supplies happened to be aboard their ships. And killer robots with human appearing spies. It was fortunate, based on the descriptions, that the Cylons were barely ahead of the Colonials in technology. The last thing Starfleet needed was another Borg situation. She was impressed at first with how much information they were willing to give up but then it occurred to just how desperate they must be. That they had apparently gone on some sort of religious wild goose chase in the hopes of finding a planet that they considered a myth told her just how desperate they had been. And just how dismal the prospects were in the Beta Quadrant.

"Frankly, we're in short supply of almost every thing." Roslin said. She was, Beverly realized, struggling to not beg for help.

Picard took the navigation sheets that were proffered. "I believe the Federation will be able to provide your people with assistance. We're well supplied on the Enterprise. I will have my people bring over food supplies and medicine as soon as I return. But…. You've come a very long way. Your Cylons won't be a problem with our defense capabilities. Frankly, we're a bit ahead of your people, technologically. I am more concerned about the location of your fleet. You're within our territory but we're very close to the Neutral Zone that separates the Federation from the Romulan Empire." He smiled slightly at Roslin and Adama. "I would hate to think you've traveled so far, just to run into trouble right at the end."

Adama nodded. "We're… having engine trouble." He didn't like admitting that, Beverly noted. He continued, "We can move but the Galactica's jump drive needs repairs."

"Your engine design is quite interesting," Picard said easily. "It would be better to move your fleet but we're not in any immediate danger." He gestured to the navigation charts. "It's really quite amazing that you avoided Romulan territory."

"The gods led us," Roslin said simply. A bit of a fanatic, Beverly decided, but it was hard to blame her considering the tale she had just told.

"That's…"Lt. Gaeta stood up. "That's not true." He was shaking and sweating and Beverly found herself suddenly alert. She wasn't the only one, the three other colonial officers were looking at him like he had suddenly sprouted horns. They're afraid he's going to screw things up, she thought.

The young man took a deep breath. "I am Ensign Felix Gaeta of Starfleet. My last assignment was the USS Zhukov, where I was separated due to an accident with a wormhole. I used my knowledge of Federation and Romulan space to guide the Colonial fleet here." He gulped nervously and looked at the Admiral. "I'm from Earth."

Chapter Text

Lee sat up straight at Gaeta's words. Oh gods, Felix, he thought sadly, you really picked a bad time to lose your marbles on duty. There had been signs. Gaeta had been irritable, angry, and acting much more stressed than his duties caused. He had even snapped at Dee, just an hour earlier when the woman went to hug him in excitement over the stunningly good news, but Lee couldn't quite believe what he was doing and saying. He could only stare.

"I'm from Earth," Gaeta said again, his voice shaking. He looked at the Starfleet captain. "My identification number is EA7727518." He fumbled with his uniform, revealing a small pin that he set down on the metal table in front of Picard.

A metal pin, Lee realized with shock, that was only a little different in style than the insignia that Picard and Crusher were wearing. Battered and dull, not gleaming like theirs, but the odd little symbol was essentially the same. Gaeta looked nervously at Picard.

Picard calmly picked up the metal insignia, while Crusher tapped on her handheld computer and discretely pointed a small metal device at Gaeta, that lit up almost instantly. Then the dull insignia chirped as well, which didn't seem to surprise either Starfleet officer although Gaeta looked shocked. They were a good team, Lee realized with a start, they had taken it all in and were already analyzing it. Unlike his father, who was glaring at Gaeta with that look that had made Lee shake since he had been old enough to know what it meant.

Crusher handed her computer device to Picard, who took it and looked. Then he smiled slightly at Gaeta. "This certainly makes things more interesting." He turned to Admiral Adama, no longer smiling but Lee could see the man's eyes were twinkling with delight. Because, Lee realized, Gaeta was telling the truth, and Picard and Crusher both were pleased that one of their own that had been assumed missing or worse was alive.

Which just added to his own shock.

"It seems we are sharing an officer," Picard said, his tone surprised but pleasant. He held out the computer pad to Adama. "Ensign Gaeta has been missing for over ten years."

The Admiral took the pad and looked at it and then glared at Gaeta. "You are from Earth?" He stood and Lee almost started to rise as well since he knew exactly what was coming. But Roslin suddenly put her hand on Adama's arm as he raised a fist at Gaeta, who flinched back noticeably.

"Let's consider what this means, what is really important right now," she said softly, a warning note in her voice. She stepped between Adama and Gaeta, effectively dividing them. Roslin looked at Gaeta oddly, and then at Picard. "Obviously this is... unexpected."

"I couldn't tell you," Gaeta said quickly, more to Adama than to her. "I was lost in an accident ten years ago. I had to throw away everything but the clothes on my back and my combadge. I shouldn't even have kept that…What could I have said? No one would have believed me and... we have a law about exposing societies that haven't contacted other sentient life to our technology."

"We have a law? Your technology?" Tigh snarled. Gaeta flinched again and Lee realized that Picard and Crusher both were getting concerned. They were trying to not show it, but the tone in the room had gone from pleasant to hostile in seconds. Lee understood instantly why Roslin was trying to keep things calm. No matter how suddenly angry he felt about spending years doubting that Earth was real just to know that Gaeta, of all people, had kept the truth a secret, the fact was that the fleet desperately needed help.

So he shot a glare at Tigh. "Maybe we should all take a moment to digest this."

Tigh glared back at him, like he was going to leap over the table, and his father wasn't doing much better. All the while, Gaeta was turning an off shade of grey. Gods, Lee prayed suddenly, please don't let this get screwed up now. Not over Felix Gaeta being from Earth.

"I couldn't tell you, because it's against the rules," Gaeta said again, "but I could manipulate the route and keep the fleet safely out of… Romulan space."

"And how did you do that?" Adama hissed.

"I do all of the jumps," Gaeta shot back, his eyes suddenly hard. "No one ever checks my work."

"Because I trusted you," Adama said coldly.

"And," Laura said, cutting between them, almost dividing them with her eyes, "now we have good news. Maybe that is the thing we need to focus on. We've found Earth, and the Federation. Captain Picard, I don't think I am overstepping when I say that you're inclined to help us, you've already offered."

"That is correct," Picard said easily. He was allowing her to diffuse the situation, Lee realized.

"Think about it, Bill," she said softly. "What's really important right now?" For a long moment the two stared at each other, as if having an argument with their eyes alone, and then his father seemed to deflate. Roslin nodded slightly and turned to Picard. "We need some help. A lot actually. Although just knowing that Earth is truly real has already given our people a great deal to look forward to."

"Yes," Picard said quickly. He rose to his feet, as did Crusher. "I'd like to get a schedule set to bring over supplies. I also need to let my superiors know what the situation is here and to get some reinforcements here to help." He paused and then gestured to Gaeta. "I'd like to take Mr. Gaeta with me. It has been ten years, after all."

"No," Adama said quickly. "He's my officer and we're having a serious engine malfunction."

"He's right, sir," Gaeta said suddenly. "The Galactica is short staffed…." The man looked down suddenly, and for a moment, Lee felt bad for him. After all was said and done, if what he was saying was true, Gaeta had brought them to safety and his reward so far was to be yelled at. Not exactly a hero's reward.

"No," Roslin said suddenly. "Mr. Gaeta will go with you." She smiled just a little. "If it's been ten years Lt. Gaeta, I think you've waited long enough." Adama looked at her fiercely but she stared him down. "Let's consider it a gesture of good will. I would suggest though, that we not… announce what Mr. Gaeta has done for us until you have him in your shuttle craft." Clever, Lee thought suddenly. The people were already in a state of high emotion and Gaeta wasn't well liked since New Caprica. Things were about to be suddenly better for everyone, and the last thing they needed was an incident. He didn't get the sense that Picard would withhold the proffered help if someone did pound Gaeta into pieces but it didn't need to happen.

"Of course," Picard said easily. "I can imagine that just knowing the place you were seeking is real and able to help will be a shock, without the possible raw emotion Mr. Gaeta's origins might evoke." Which meant Picard understood that it was just going to add to the shock that people were already feeling. Picard seemed to take in Adama's anger and concern. "The Enterprise is well equipped to defend this fleet, and I intend to call for reinforcements. Your people will be protected."

Adama eyed Gaeta. "Then go. They've apparently got the first claim on you."

"I'm sorry," Gaeta said softly. He was still that off shade of grey, Lee realized. And he was actually shaking. If this is going to be discreet, he thought worriedly, they better start moving. Or else Gaeta was going to faint.

"We should let them board their shuttle and then let President Roslin announce what will happen next." Tory said suddenly, also rising to her feet. "That way we can make sure there isn't an unpleasant incident."

"Agreed," Roslin said. "I think the people will be very happy to hear that we're in safe territory, and that we're being protected by a ship from the political union that Earth belongs to."

They left the small briefing room and returned to the landing deck, where everyone cheered loudly. Roslin quickly took a position near a Raptor where a microphone was waiting, while Picard, Crusher, and Gaeta moved to the shuttle where the remaining Starfleet officer was waiting. Lee followed them, as did Tigh, to make it look like they were just escorting the Starfleet people. He was just surprised that Tigh joined him. It's going to work, Lee thought, as first Crusher, then Gaeta, and then Picard slipped into the shuttle.

"I have wonderful news," Roslin began as the shuttle craft began to move. "Captain Picard of the Enterprise has assured me that we are welcome in their Federation and has already offered to protect us and send supplies of food and medicine that we desperately need…"

Kara came up beside him as Roslin continued speaking. "Can you believe it?" she said excitedly, a grin on her face. "They're really from Earth?"

"They are, but it's.. weird." He wasn't even sure how to go there with Kara.

She found a way. She peered around him and then at Tigh, a puzzled look marring her happy expression. "Lee… Where did Gaeta go? He was right here…"

"He went with them," Lee said. "On their shuttle."

Kara looked at him, and rolled her eyes. "Why did he go with them? If they wanted someone to meet and greet, you outrank him."

He sighed. "He went with them, Kara, because Gaeta… is from Earth."

Her expression became unreadable. "What?"

Tigh took up position beside him. "Felix Gaeta's from frakking Earth. He's known it was real the whole godsdamned time. Apparently the motherfrakker has been manipulating the route since who knows when." Tigh grinned ruefully. "I always knew he was a sneaky son of a bitch…."

Kara looked at him. "What the frak do you mean?!" she shouted, loud enough that everyone turned to look at them, including Roslin. Kara didn't seem to care. "Are you frakking joking? What do you mean, Felix Gaeta is from frakking Earth?"

A hush fell over the crowd. After a long moment, Roslin tapped the microphone. "Yes," she said easily to the crowd, "we did discover that Lt. Felix Gaeta is in fact from Earth, and a member of their military organization, Starfleet. However, while that's quite surprising, I think we should all keep our perspective. And I think they prefer just Earth, as opposed to frakking Earth, Captain Thrace."