Fic: Retrospective
“We have to accept that he’s not going to wake up,” Tory insisted as she strode through the halls of Galactica back to her transport. “You heard Ishay and the doctors.”
“He could still get better,” Ellen argued as they turned a corner. “We don’t know anything conclusive yet.”
Tory shook her head in frustration as they walked the familiar halls. They both knew the ship’s layout well. For Tory it was ingrained from her former job as aide to the President. “You heard the doctors,” she argued as they reached the hangar bay.
“They are human doctors,” Ellen reminded her, putting a hand on Tory’s forearm. “The five of us are different. Our brains don’t function like the humans. Sam is a machine. Machines can be repaired,” she pointed out.
“We have to be realistic,” Tory noted, “and we have to figure out what this means for the five of us. Without Sam, there’s no Final Five. Who is to say the humans won’t be done with us?”
Ellen stopped as they stood outside the entrance to the hangar bay. “What does any of this mean for us?” she asked rhetorically. “We made the decision to stay with the fleet. All of us are in this together, even if Sam doesn’t recover.”
“We didn’t make the decision,” Tory reminded her. “Saul made the decision.”
Crossing her arms over her chest, Ellen knew that this debate was not to be had with Tory. “And it was the right decision.” Tory would never agree with the decision that had been made to stay with the humans and keep running from Cavil.
Tory rolled her eyes. “The right decision,” she muttered.
Ellen uncrossed her arms and stepped closer to Tory. “Go back to the baseship. Get some sleep.”
“Cylons don’t need sleep,” Tory reminded her. “We’re just programmed to think we do.”
Ellen smiled, almost like a mother smiles at a rebellious child. She brought her hand up, brushing it against Tory’s cheek. “Just go back to the ship. We’ll meet up tomorrow. And then we’ll see about Sam and if there are any changes. There is nothing we can decide right now.”
“You’re right,” Tory agreed with a sigh.
Ellen reached out, pulling her into a hug. Tory stiffened at the unexpected contact, patting her on the back awkwardly as Ellen broke away.
Tory watched as Ellen walked down the corridor before turning into the hangar bay to make her way to the shuttle. Finding her transport waiting, she nodded at the Eight standing on the wing. “You the last one?”
“Seems like it,” Tory noted, spotting two Sixes and another Eight already inside the raptor. She turned around to examine the bay, checking for anyone else that might be moving toward the raptor. The hangar bay was bustling with activity like always. Galactica never slept. Even when she would shuttle over in the early morning hours or late at night to retrieve Laura or conduct official business, the bay was always a hub of activity.
As if intentionally guided, her gaze went straight across the room to where the Admiral and the President were exiting a raptor. The Admiral exited first, extending his arm to help Laura onto the wing and down it without falling. She grasped his arm tightly, clinging to him like a lifeline.
Tory watched as they reached the end of the landing and the Admiral kept an arm around Laura despite that they were now on solid ground. He spoke to Tyrol, who was flanked by a random Six. Laura was watching them speak, smiling politely. Tory knew that smile well. It was the face she made when she was trying to look interested and pretend that she wasn’t as tired as she felt. She was probably worn out given the late hour of the day. There must have been official business she’d had to conduct on another ship, something that had taken the Admiral with her.
Tory felt her heart skip a beat as she realized that Laura was no longer listening to the Admiral but regarding her curiously. Their eyes connected for a moment before Tory quickly turned her back to Laura and entered the raptor, ushering the Eight on the wing with her inside.
“Let’s get off this ship,” she insisted, buckling herself into a seat next to one of the Sixes.
“You got it,” the Eight replied, taking up the pilot’s seat. Grace? Was that her name? She was pretty certain that was the name the girl had chosen. Now that they were mixing with the human fleet, the cylon models had started taking on names of their own. However, it was still nearly impossible for Tory to tell them apart. Luckily she rarely had a chance to speak to any of them. They definitely didn’t speak to her much. Everyone had their assigned tasks aboard the baseship and carried them out dutifully and with minimal interactions. They were true machines.
Leaning back in her seat, Tory watched as the raptor exited the confines of Galactica and entered the cold vacuum of space.
“You look ahead and I’ll look down,” Laura suggested as they stepped out of her tent. She pulled her coat up around her neck to try and block the wind as Tory placed a hand on her waist to steady her footing.
“I barely made it over here. We’re going to fall. It’s too slippery this morning,” Tory pointed out as Laura zipped up her tent. Laura had insisted they get an early start but since the sun had just risen the teams weren’t out yet sanding the main walkways.
Laura grabbed Tory’s forearm, linking their arms together. “Maybe we won’t fall if we walk together.”
Tory regarded her as Laura took her arm, pulling them close together. Using her free hand, she grasped Laura’s upper arm to give them more support. “There’s too much ice. We should wait until they come and put the dirt down.”
“It is icy every morning,” Laura reminded her. She tugged on Tory’s arm and took a step forward. Cautiously, she took another step, happy when she didn’t slip. However, she gained too much confidence and her entire body jerked as her left foot slid out from underneath her.
Tory grabbed Laura’s arm, keeping her from going down. Instead of linking their arms again, she wrapped her arm around Laura’s back instead.
“See?” Laura smiled, slightly winded, “we help each other.”
“We’re going to help each other break our necks,” Tory muttered as they continued on, passing between the rows of tents until the school tent was finally in sight.
As they reached the tent, Laura let go of Tory’s arm. Misjudging the distance to the tent, she was on her behind in seconds.
“Laura!” Tory called out, carefully stepping toward her.
“I’m fine,” she waved her hand in the air, giggling. “I’m fine!”
Tory bent down to help her up but all she succeeded in doing was practically falling on top of Laura who was laughing hysterically. Tory rolled onto her hip and then shifted to her knees, getting back to her feet. She could do nothing to help Laura, given that she was still flat on her behind and laughing.
The flaps to the tent opened and Maya’s head poked out. “What is going on out here?” she asked, assessing them both.
Tory nodded down to Laura. Maya looked back at her with a knowing smile. It wasn’t the first time that Laura had collapsed into a fit of giggles, the last time having been not even a week ago when she went out for more wood and fell face-first into a half-melted snowman the kids had built. By the time she got back into the tent her hair and winter coat were covered in snowflakes and she was laughing uncontrollably.
Maya smiled and shook her head in amusement, coming out of the tent to help Tory get Laura to her feet. She was still giggling as they each took one of her arms and pulled her up.
When they were safely inside the tent, Laura finally took a deep breath and composed herself as Maya returned to her task of setting out the supplies the kids needed on the tables.
Tory regarded Laura with an amused expression, which only caused her to begin laughing again. Grasping Tory’s arm, she howled with laughter, burying her face against her shoulder.
Tory’s head jerked as the raptor touched down in the landing bay; her eyes fluttering open. She looked out at the familiar setting of the ship, unbuckling her seatbelt and waiting for the door to open.
*
Pushing the pure white sheets aside, Tory slid out of bed and threw on the only robe she owned. It was something a Six had brought to her because she hadn’t even taken her things with her when she defected to the cylons. She had nothing. Asking Laura to send her few minor possessions back hadn’t crossed her mind. A few days later when they arrived on a transport, she found herself smiling at the thought that a box had been sent. Then she quickly realized the gesture for what it was - the final blow. They had already erased her from Colonial One. There would be no traces of her still lingering. She was disposable.
Making her way to the control hub, Tory immediately felt the chilled air against her dark skin as she sat with the hybrid. It was always cool here. The temperature had to be kept low to sustain the hybrid and help the organic material of the ship to function. The red blinking lights were something she had yet to get used to even now. It was so quiet during the early hours of the day. Too quiet, even if she hadn’t known a time when the ship didn’t function on the time Galactica operated on. Cylons had no days or nights. They were programmed to sleep but they didn’t need it. Their ships and computers functioned even when they were asleep because they weren’t like the humanoid models. They weren’t designed to appear human. It made sense why she had never been able to sleep well. She was programmed to sleep but she didn’t need it. It was just another way to make her seem human when she was anything but that.
She used to find Laura asleep all the time. Usually Laura would awake to the sound of her footsteps and pretend she had simply been resting her eyes. But Tory knew better. She knew when the President was tired. She had also seen it on New Caprica when Laura had let her guard down.
She had liked helping Laura with the school. Maya was good with the kids. Luckily, she handled all of that. Tory’s forte had always been organization. She organized the school and the teaching schedules and kept everything on track. She and Laura had naturally spent a lot of time together huddled over a makeshift desk or pressed shoulder-to-shoulder next to a fire trying to keep warm as they discussed what initially began as work related matters but always turned into gossip or story-telling. Laura had indeed lived a full, colorful life before the attacks. There was nothing more enjoyable than lying with her on a narrow cot and listening to the stories she told.
In truth, she missed those times. She missed when she and Laura were equals. Laura hadn’t been the boss on New Caprica so she had let her guard down. But it came back up the moment she returned to the presidency. Tory had thought the growth in their relationship would make things different. It hadn’t. They were once again employer and employee and Laura no longer shared stories or even laughs with her. In fact, she’d shared a lot of anger and frustration, taking her unhappiness with the demands of the fleet out on her assistant. Tory hadn’t paid attention to when the change began but it had ended any chance of getting closer.
She had wanted to tell Laura about the music and being a cylon. She wanted to tell her friend - but Laura wasn’t her friend. She was the President and the President airlocked cylons. As Laura grew colder, Tory knew that she could never share her secret with her boss. She wouldn’t hesitate to airlock her even in spite of what they’d once shared.
It had been hard to swallow. Laura had turned her back on her and somehow she hadn’t even noticed it. She had been too wrapped up in knowing the truth about herself. It hurt when she realized that she was nothing more than a replaceable member of the President’s staff. It started as a blow. Over time it became a sting. Then no feeling was left at all. She was a cylon. One of the illustrious Final Five. She didn’t need Laura’s approval or her acceptance. Or even her friendship. Laura and the fleet needed her. Within her existence were the secrets the fleet had been trying to discover for four years now.
When D’Anna had shown up and announced she wanted the return of the Final Five, Tory knew it was time to go home. To her people. To where she belonged. They had welcomed her with open arms. But it didn’t feel like home. An uncomfortable recliner on Colonial One still felt like home.
The cylons on the ship treated her like an object of awe. Like she was a piece of art or something sacred. They gave her a room of her own and she would often find random Twos, Sixes, Eights, even D’Anna when she was still with them, watching her as she wandered around the ship. They just wanted to see what she was doing. Some spoke to her. Others never did. It was lonely. She missed the days before she’d known the truth about herself. The days when she had believed she actually had one friend. The time before she realized that to that friend she was utterly replaceable. Of course, she had never been more than a replacement in the first place, so she should have seen it coming.
*
“Here let me get a fire started; you sit,” Tory ordered as she and Laura came through the flap of the tent arm-in-arm. She watched out of the corner of her eye as Laura peeled off her wet jacket and then made her way to her cot, checking that she walked steadily.
“Thank you for meeting me and walking me back here,” Laura told her as she plopped down onto her cot with a grunt and then went to work on unlacing her boots. “You really don’t have to keep doing that.”
“I don’t mind,” Tory explained as she carefully closed the door of the wood stove, protecting her fingers with the damp sleeve of her coat. She shook the kettle and when she heard the slosh of a decent amount of water inside, she set it back atop the stove. Tent now warming, she took off her own wet jacket and picked up Laura’s and hung them together over the back of the chair. Grabbing the towel and bulky old sweater that hung from the clothesline strung up by the stove, she headed to where Laura sat. “You need to get dry before you catch a chill,” Tory told her as she handed Laura the towel.
Laura dried her hair as Tory finished pulling off her boots for her, chuckling with her as she peeled off her damp, muddied socks too and tossed them away quickly, one over each shoulder. Tory reached up as Laura lifted her hips to let her pull down her unbuttoned pants, and by the time the kettle was whistling, she had Laura changed out of her wet clothes and bundled into the sweater and beneath her blankets.
“Aren’t you going to have a cup too?” Laura asked from her cot as Tory filled the chipped mug and set it down.
“Curfew’s in fifteen minutes. I need to get going soon,” Tory explained.
“You can’t leave. It’s pouring even harder out there now.” To emphasize her point Laura paused, pointing up toward the ceiling as she listened to the raindrops pounding down on the canvas. “Pour yourself a cup and get out of those wet clothes and come to bed. We’ll chat. Tell some stories. You were just going to be coming right back here first thing in the morning anyway to check on me,” she finished with a small grin.
“Okay,” Tory agreed with her own knowing smile. “That sounds nice.” She poured out another cup to steep and then went and pulled an oversized t-shirt out of the trunk that held Laura’s clothes. She knew her way around this tent well. Before long she was changed and handing off the steaming mugs of tea as she quickly climbed into Laura’s cot with her, eager for the warmth. The women chuckled as they jostled against each other, trying to get comfortable in the narrow space, finally settling sitting up with Laura’s arm tossed casually around Tory’s shoulder.
Tory watched Laura as she blew gently on her tea before taking a sip, smiling at the woman’s precise routine. She always appreciated precision. “Last time you were telling me about the summer your family rented the beach house. The boy you kissed under the boardwalk.” She struggled to remember the name.
“Luke.”
“Luke, right. Except he wasn’t a boy,” Tory added with a wide grin.
“No, he most certainly wasn’t,” Laura laughed. “I definitely liked older men back then, until I got older, of course. Then I liked younger men. Then I finally got wiser along with older, and …” her voice trailed off, smile fading.
“And so back to older men?”
“Perhaps,” she answered quietly. Laura then shook her head slightly and took another sip of her tea. “I’m tired, why don’t you tell me a story. Tell me about the boys you liked when you were young.”
Tory’s own smile started to fade. “I’m not good with stories like you are. I don’t remember much from childhood, at least not the way you do. Besides that all feels so far away.”
“It does. Everything feels far away these days,” Laura agreed wistfully, before setting down her cup of tea and reaching for her hairbrush. Her face brightened slightly, though her eyes remained dark, as she motioned for Tory to come closer. “Let’s get these knots out before your hair finishes drying. I don’t want to even think of the mess we’ll have on our hands in the morning if we don’t take care of this now.”
Tory laughed as she turned and leaned back against Laura. “I know how you feel about bad hair days, so I know better than to have one in your presence.”
“Smart girl,” Laura joked as she pulled the brush firmly through Tory’s unruly curls, giggling at her stifled groans. “You are as bad as my littlest sister,” she chastised as Tory continued to flinch with each stroke of the brush. “Never could sit still.”
“Well if you sit still then you are falling behind.” She turned when she heard Laura snort. “It’s true!” Tory insisted with a smile before turning back to let her continue brushing out her knots. “Besides who wants to sit still in a place like this. Then you’d actually have to look and to listen. You’d know where you really were.”
Laura’s hands froze. “All done,” she said quietly as she pulled the brush away and set it down.
“I’m sorry,” Tory said quickly. “Laura, I didn’t think …” She tried to turn back to finish her apology, but Laura wrapped her arms around her from behind, taking Tory’s hands in hers and letting them settle in the girl’s lap.
“It’s okay. You didn’t say anything that I haven’t thought myself.” Resting her chin on Tory’s shoulder she sighed. “You know, I think that’s the worst part of being in there. How loud the quiet is, especially at night.”
After a long moment, Tory patted Laura’s hands and then turned in her arms. “Would you like me to snore tonight?” she asked with a broad grin and teasing eyes. “That’ll take care of the quiet problem.”
“Thank you, but no,” Laura laughed, “it’s bad enough I have to deal with your kicking.”
“Hey, I don’t kick!” Tory protested.
“Yes, you do,” Laura insisted as she kissed her warmly on the cheek, “and that’s just like Cheryl was too. Perpetual motion machines both of you.” As she finished, she snuggled down on her side under the covers, her hands tucked under her ear. “I like having you here with me,” she told Tory when she’d finished settling herself down alongside her. “Keeps away the quiet.”
“I like being here,” Tory replied with a soft smile, their faces so close now that she could feel Laura’s breath as she smiled back at her.
“Sweet dreams,” Laura offered quietly before reaching out and shoving an errant lock of hair out of Tory’s eyes. “These curls,” she said with a soft little sigh of exasperation as she tucked the hair behind Tory’s ear, skating her fingers lightly along her cheek once she did and then rolling over and closing her own eyes.
Tory watched the woman’s shoulders rise and fall slowly, waiting to see when her breathing would even into slumber. She found it hard to sleep herself. Too much quiet, she thought with a bit of a twinge. In these hushed moments, she could not deny where she really was or whom she was with.
She noticed Laura’s shoulders shudder slightly and she knew her dreams must be unkind, so she slowly edged closer to her. With a deep breath she tentatively wrapped an arm around Laura’s body and pressed herself against her back. She felt soft and warm, but still Tory shivered as she relaxed against Laura’s body. “I’m here,” she whispered, closing her eyes and breathing in the sweet scent of Laura’s hair before resting her head gently back down on the pillow they shared.
*
Tory awoke with a start, eyes blinking as her body chased away the fatigue. There was a red blur in the corner of her eyes that soon permeated her peripheral vision when her surroundings came into focus. The baseship. Her quarters. Not quarters. Just her room. They were just rooms here.
She sucked in a deep breath. The last thing she remembered was sitting next to the hybrid. Someone had obviously brought her back to her room. It could have been any of the models but it was probably one of the Leobens. They seemed to show reverence to her, staring at her from a distance and sometimes making the effort to speak to her. The world here on the baseship was still jarring at times. She didn’t really have friends. Since Ellen’s return, she had some company. However, Ellen lived on Galactica to be close to Saul and was rarely around these days - especially since they spent so much time in the life station with Sam. There was no one here but her.
With a sigh, Tory pushed back the thin sheet that covered her body. The cylons even had beds like humans. As much as they claimed to despise the humans, they had put a lot of work into imitating human culture.
They.
The delineating made her scoff. They. There was no they. Not for her. She was one of ‘them.’ A cylon. It had been liberating at first. Everything had finally clicked. While she was shocked, she had been flooded with relief over the revelation. It made sense. The memories of her childhood were so fuzzy and jumbled. Now she knew that they were only planted to make her seem human. In reality, she had no parents and no past. She was a machine.
As a machine, she wasn’t capable of feeling human emotions. Maybe she made herself think she felt them but she didn’t. They were just a part of her programming.
Her friendship with Laura had been programming too. She was a fool to think otherwise. But there was still a part of her that wanted to believe it had been real. Maybe it had been.
She’d likely never know.
*
Laura sat mesmerized by the DRADIS screen. She still could not believe the small blip that represented an apparently habitable planet. After all this time, all that had happened to them, so much cruelty and loss suffered, they were saved. At least, so it seemed for those of them that were lucky enough to still be standing. CIC was a swirl of activity, though most of it was aimed not at scouting their miracle but at clearing out their dead. That she did not want to see. She’d rather look ahead while she still could.
“Wait,” she called as two marines, flanked by a Six and an Eight, brought a bag down from the core and placed it on a stretcher. It was the last body out and she knew its identity. As much as she wanted only to look ahead, she could not deny her past. There was no time left now for that either.
As she struggled to stand from her stool, Bill was quickly at her elbow to help her. She knew that despite his busyness in getting the ship under control and coordinating a scout mission, he’d kept one eye on her the whole time. As he always did now when she was close. He too knew how little time was left.
“Are you sure?” he asked quietly as she found her footing on shaky legs, his hand still grasping her arm.
“Yes.” She was.
Laura slowly approached the stretcher and nodded to the nearest marine to unzip the bag, which he quickly did down to the body’s chest before stepping away a respectful distance. She noticed that the Six and the Eight stepped away too, though they eyed her skeptically. She understood. They had no reason to believe she valued this young woman in any way, but as she looked down at her lifeless body she knew they were wrong.
“Tory,” she breathed as she looked at the girl. She’d always be a girl to her, even if she was two thousand years old. No one had closed her eyes, and they stared back at her. Empty, but not cold. They’d never been cold. Not to her. She’d been too tired and angry, and later frightened of this cylon to ever admit that, but it was the truth. But there was no reason to be angry or scared any longer. Human, cylon, what did it matter any more? They were all in this together now, and the past was just that.
Tentatively she reached down and closed the girl’s eyes, brushing away a lock of Tory’s hair that stubbornly fell back across her face. Laura’s lips curved up ever so slightly. “These curls,” she whispered with an exasperated little shake of her head that was all too familiar as she tucked the locks behind Tory’s ear. Some things never did change.
Satisfied, Laura brushed the cool skin of Tory’s cheek and then gave a little nod. “That’s better,” she decided. A memory flashed, and she choked back a tear before stepping back and signaling the marines she was ready. They stepped forward, zipping shut the bag and rolling Tory’s body out of CIC followed closely by her cylon mourners.
Laura thought of friends lost as she watched the small party depart. Such a high price they’d paid for this moment of deliverance. She hoped they would all be waiting on the shore for her. It wouldn’t be long now.