Those Who Lift Each Other, Chapter 12
Title: Those Who Lift Each Other, Chapter 12: If We Worked Hard, If We Behaved
Author: lls_mutant
Fandom: Glee/Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Rating: R, for adult themes and violence
Pairing(s): BSG: canon pairings, plus Gaeta/Baltar. Glee: Burt/Carole and Tina/Mike. Cross-fandom: Puck/Ellen, Kurt/Baltar, Santana/various pilots, Sam/Rya Kibby.
Warning(s): War-related violence, abortion issues, BSG-canon suicide, torture, PTSD, character deaths. (Character deaths are both canon BSG deaths and Glee deaths.)
Fic Summary: When the Cylons attacked, the kids of New Directions were on board the Cybele, on their way to the All-Colony Show Choir Competition. Now they're members of the Fleet, being chased by the Cylons and trying to deal with the day-to-day aspects of a life after the worlds end.
Chapter Summary: Life's not fair, and Carole knew that for a long time, even before the Cylons hit. But it's amazing how unfair life can still be for some people in the Fleet.
Notes: This is a 17 part story. Each chapter is from the POV of a Glee character, working through the BSG canon. BSG canon does not change; this ends up being a "average people in the Fleet" story. More information can be found here. Also, huge thanks to kappamaki33, who is betaing this monster.
Chapter Notes: An introduction to new BSG characters can be found here.
Info Post | Chapter 1 (Will) | Chapter 2 (Brittany) | Chapter 3 (Puck) | Chapter 4 (Artie) | Chapter 5 (Santana) | Chapter 6 (Tina) | Chapter 7 (Beiste, Blaine, and Lauren) | Chapter 8 (Rachel) | Chapter 9 (Kurt and Burt (I)) | Chapter 10 (Kurt and Burt (II) | Chapter 11 (Mike)
"Baltar's alive." Xeno Fenner slapped the paper down on Carole's desk.
"Don't frak with me," Carole said tiredly. "I've got two hours before my ride comes, and I'm not missing my shift off. Let's get this meeting over with and get you back to the Hitei Kan without the bad jokes."
"I'm not joking, Hudson. Baltar's alive. Haven't you looked at a paper?"
Carole sighed and pulled the paper towards her. The picture on the front stopped her cold. There, in all his long-haired, bedraggled glory, was Gaius Baltar. "You've got to be frakking kidding me."
"Nope. They found him back on the algae planet, apparently. He's been on board since."
"And not out an airlock?" Carole scanned the article. It was an account of Baltar's discovery, arrest, and imprisonment, and plans for his future. "A trial? They're really giving him a trial?"
Xeno shrugged. "If they weren't going to, I don't think we'd know they had him in the first place."
Carole wasn't so sure about that. There were a lot of people in the Fleet who would love to know that Baltar had been pushed out an airlock, starting with herself. But on the other hand, it was rather reassuring that their government wasn't having criminals secretly killed. The Cylons had done enough of that. In the end it was what it was, and Carole had more immediate things on her mind.
"Well," she said, tossing the paper aside, "guess that's that. So what did you want to talk to me about? I assume it wasn't Baltar."
"No." Xeno looked more serious now as he sat down across from her. "It's the catalyst beds. Ours is shot."
Carole sighed and rubbed her temple. This was not what she wanted to be dealing with two hours before she was due to go back to the Cybele. Hell, this was not what she'd wanted to deal with ever. Two years ago, she wouldn't have had any idea of what a catalyst bed even was. But now she knew all too well. "Why are you talking to me about this? Why not Grayson? He heads the whole frakking operation over here, go bug him."
"Because I thought I'd soften you up first. Grayson listens to you."
Carole snorted. "About work schedules and line management, not about the technical side of things. It's the people I'm good with, Xeno, not the reactors."
"Whatever. Look, Carole," Xeno said, leaning in. "I know you've got two up and running. We need to borrow one until the hot shot chemist types over on the Persephone can synthesize enough of the zeolite for us. It will be four weeks, tops."
"So you say. And what are we going to do without it for four weeks? You think the Fleet's going to like it if algae processing slows down?"
"You think it'll be a good thing if fuel refining comes to a complete stop?"
Carole sat back heavily. This was going to be a long, miserable conversation that she wasn't going to win. For a moment she considered just conceding now, but then Fenner would think it was too easy to get what his ship needed. She surreptitiously looked at the clock. She had to argue for an hour, then she could start agreeing to things, then get off this ship and go home. With an inward sigh, Carole turned her attention to Fenner. One more hour, and then she was free.
***
The Daru Mozu had changed functions since the beginning of the journey, from tylium refining to algae processing, but the smell of tylium mingled with metal continued to hang in the air. Carole had always kind of liked the smell- it reminded her of her job in the engine factory back on Gememon, and had given her a sense of home. Her headache now reminded her of the first time she'd smelled it, and the resultant headaches she'd gotten until she'd grown used to it. That had been over twenty years ago. Carole rubbed her temples as she left the small, cluttered office and stopped by her quarters- a claustrophobic room that she shared with two other people. She grabbed the bag she had packed and then headed down to find Sam.
Sam lived in a cavernous room that had previously been used for storage. Instead of cots, thick canvas had been used to make hammocks. Carole headed for one in the far corner, where Sam was lying back in his hammock, hands on his chest and one foot on the floor, eyes closed.
"Sam." Carole nudged his foot with her own. "Sam. Sam, honey, wake up." She leaned over and shook him gently. She'd learned the hard way that Sam had a tendency to wake up panicked. "Sam. Come on."
Sam's eyes blinked open. "Huh? What's going on?"
"It's time to go. Finn will be here any minute."
"Oh." Sam closed his eyes again. "I'm not going."
Carole laughed. "Of course you're going."
"No I'm not. I told Jayla she could have my shift off and I'd work hers."
"Sam! That's the third time you've done this. You need a shift off."
Sam shrugged, eyes still closed. "Why? What's the point of taking a shift off? Rya's not here."
"But you still have friends and family who would like to see you, and you need the rest."
"I'll get sleep."
"But-"
"Carole, Jayla hasn't had a day off in two months. I'm going to work for her."
Carole bit her lip. On the one hand, Sam looked terrible. His cheekbones seemed more pronounced and he looked wan and tired. On the other hand, so did everyone else, and Carole knew the schedules weren't… well, they weren't ideal. Even her own shifts off had become a lot fewer and further between since New Caprica. She glanced at her watch. "All right," she said, capitulating. "If you're sure."
"I'm sure." Sam opened his eyes. "I'll be fine, Carole. Really."
"You'd better be." She leaned down and kissed his forehead. "Make sure you get some sleep."
"That's what I was doing before you woke me up. See you in a few days, Carole."
"See you then."
***
"So he's not coming?" Finn asked.
"Not coming," Carole said, tossing her overnight bag into the back of the Raptor. "I'm worried about him, Finn."
"Because he's not coming?" Finn seemed confused.
"Partly. But he just seems… off."
"Yeah, well, he has ever since Rya didn't come back up."
"Before that, really." That damned detention center. It had messed up both Kurt and Sam. If Carole could go back to New Caprica and bomb the shit out of it, she would, even if the Cylons weren't in it. She sighed and changed the subject. "How are things over on Galactica?"
"Not bad, I guess." Finn shrugged.
"Any more talk about promoting you to lieutenant?"
"Not yet. But I've only been in the service three years, and I shouldn't have started at ensign. I mean, I never went to college or anything."
Which was a fair enough point. Of course, one could argue that that was exactly why promotion mattered so much anyway- it was the only reward that could be given. But Finn didn't seem too bothered, so Carole sat back and held her tongue. After all, she firmly reminded herself, it wasn't like she could promote everyone who deserved it on the Daru Mozu, either. She decided to change the subject. "How are things with Rachel?"
Finn grinned. "Good, I guess. Yeah, really good. Rachel's not as crazy from New Caprica as some people are, so things are good."
"Lovely, Finn," Carole said dryly. There were forms of revenge, though. "So. When am I going to be a grandmother?"
Usually, that question would have had Finn sitting bolt upright, eyes wide and panicking. But instead, Finn just shrugged. "We've talked about it."
"Really?"
"Well, yeah. We've been together for a long time, and a lot of the stuff that was a problem on Gemenon just isn't anymore, I guess. But we want to get to Earth first. I mean, I know what it's like to not have a dad growing up, you know? As long as I'm in the service…." He trailed off, shrugging. Carole was glad. She really didn't need the visual.
"Is it bothering you?" Finn asked.
"Huh? What?"
"Your shoulder. You're rubbing it. Does it hurt?"
"Oh." Carole hadn't even realized she was doing it. "It gets a little sore sometimes, but not much. Just a nervous habit, I guess."
"What are you nervous about?"
"What's not to be nervous about?" Carole retorted. Finn snorted, and they rode the rest of the way in silence.
***
The food on the Cybele left a lot to be desired, but the dining company was first rate. For a little while, Carole was able to forget about the Daru Mozu and all the problems that awaited her when she went back. No matter what changed, no matter how many shifts she worked, no matter what was taken away and how many Cylons chased them across how many galaxies, she still had her family. Carole was aware of just how profoundly lucky she was.
After dinner, Burt took Finn down to the New Directions room to see some of the others. Carole sat down on the couch next to Kurt. "How are you doing?" she asked, nudging him with her shoulder. Like everyone, he felt thinner than he had before, but he was still there.
Kurt shrugged. "All right, I guess, compared to where I was a few months ago. Dr. Wong is trying to ease me off the meds."
"Really? That's good, isn’t it?"
"No," Kurt said with a sigh. "That's necessary. There's a limited supply of the meds left. I'm still having flashbacks, but I'm not having as many, so…." He trailed off and shrugged. Carole noticed he was rubbing his fingers together, a nervous habit that he'd picked up since he got out of detention. She stomped down hard on the compulsion to take his hands in hers and make him stop- she'd done that once before and the result had not been pretty.
"And what about… Puck?"
"Actually, I'm doing okay with that," Kurt said. "I mean, I miss him, like everyone else, but it's different than it was with Blaine or even Brit. Or maybe I'm just more used to people dying by now." He laughed lightly as if it was a joke, but Carole didn't think it was. "How's Finn handling it?"
"I guess all right. He doesn't talk about it much."
"How are you handling it?" Kurt asked, turning and facing her with such a direct look that it took Carole aback.
"Me? I'm sad, but I guess…." Carole trailed off and shrugged. "I don't have the luxury of not handling it." And not thinking about it much was the only way she could cope with having a son in the Fleet. "It's busy on the Daru Mozu."
"So I hear." Kurt was slipping out of stepson mode and into government. "Did I hear something about possible delays in output?"
"We're down a catalyst bed. Not much we can do about it, so I'm told."
Kurt sighed. "You know that's not going to go over well with the President."
"I know. But what can you do? If the President wants to come over and run the lines herself, she's more than welcome." Carole decided to change the subject back to what really worried her. "Kurt? Are you sure you're going to be okay? Going off meds?"
"I guess. I don't have much of a choice, and Dr. Wong said if I get worse, he'll make my case to go back on." He smiled and laid his hand over hers. "I'm not going to kill myself. The most that will happen is I'll descend into madness, with elegant smoking and maybe some drug use, ala Caroline Houston." He laughed lightly. It was a terrible joke, and really quite tasteless if you thought about it, but Carole was relieved. Maybe Kurt really was getting better. She squeezed his hand.
"Just take care of yourself, okay?"
"I will."
***
One of the nicest things about coming over to the Cybele was the way that New Directions often met up at the end of the day, just to sit around and play cards or chat. Right now, a killer game of double-deck Dirty Hearts was in progress in the New Directions room with the Cohen-Changs, Burt and Carole, Will, Shannon, Artie, Quinn, and Kurt. Carole was fairly certain that a lot of cheating was going on.
"So Artie. How are things going with Natalia?" Quinn asked, a sly smile playing at the corner of her mouth as she laid her card.
If she expected Artie to be embarrassed, she was wrong. "How do you think?" he practically purred. "She knows where it's at." Everyone at the table laughed, and Artie's smugness only increased as he played a card that added substantial points to the trick "And I'm sure you're picking up your share of homies over on the Rising Star."
"Hardly." Quinn smirked. "Pain isn't exactly attractive."
"Oh, come on. I'm sure there's got to be someone worth finding over there," Tina said, nudging Quinn. "At least worth finding for a little bit."
Quinn sat up primly. "I hardly think-" she began, but was cut off by a sharp knock on the door. Two armed Marines barged in before anyone could answer. Instinctively, Carole lurched to her feet.
The oldest Marine centered in on his target." Quinn Fabray, please come with us."
Quinn didn't stand up. "I'm sorry, what's going on?"
"You're wanted for questioning."
"For what? What did I do? And why are the Marines here? I have nothing to do with the military!"
The Marine's face gave nothing away. "We have our orders, Miss."
Quinn's face hardened. "I'm not going anywhere until I know what this is about."
"You're wanted for questioning on the Galactica. Let's go." The Marine grabbed Quinn's arm and pulled. Quinn struggled against him.
"Get your hands off her!" Carole said, stepping forward. Another Marine blocked her way. "You can't do that!"
"Ma'am, I can, and if you all don't stop interfering and let us do our jobs, we'll have no choice but to arrest you, too."
Carole didn't even look at anyone else. She dodged around the Marine blocking her and tried to get nearer to Quinn. "Let go of her." The Marine ignored her, pulling Quinn, who was crying now. Rage swelled up in Carole. "Let go of her now!" She didn't think- she just pushed the Marine.
She didn't push that hard- at least, it didn't feel like it. But the Marine grabbed her wrist and twisted, and before she knew it, there were a pair of cuffs around her own wrists. "I told you to step back," the Marine growled as he grabbed her by the arm. "Now let's go before this becomes an even bigger mess."
"Wait!" Burt jumped to his feet. "That's my wife!"
"And she's interfering with the keeping of the peace."
"It's all right, Burt." Carole tried to calm herself down. The last thing they needed was both of them sitting in some jail cell. "I'll be okay."
"The Vice President will be hearing about this, I assure you." Kurt found his voice, whipping out a pad and jotting something down. Carole viciously hoped he was getting the Marines' names off their uniforms. "And when he does-"
The Marine snorted. "The Admiral gives us our orders. Zarek means nothing. Come on." He pushed Carole. Her eyes met Burt's as she passed him and she smiled as reassuringly as she could. Burt's lips were pressed together so tightly that they were almost invisible, but Shannon had her hand on his shoulder. She'd take care of him. That eased Carole's mind a little, and she let the Marine push her out of the room and to the docking bay.
"Are you all right?" she asked Quinn once they were in the Raptor.
"I'm all right." Quinn took a deep breath and wiped her face with her cuffed hands. "But what could they possibly want with me?"
"I don't know," Carole said, although the word Cylon was definitely coming to her mind. That was ridiculous (although it would explain so much about Quinn's behavior in the past), but there were still five models out there. If that was what Adama thought, it was just as well Carole had come along. "I guess we'll just have to wait and see."
***
Waiting was exactly what they did. The Marines led them through a maze of corridors and to a holding cell. It wasn't as bad as it could have been; there was a bed, a toilet, and a sink. Quinn relaxed a little, too. "It's not like the cells on New Caprica."
That piqued Carole's interest. Quinn had never talked about the time between when the Cylons arrested her and when she'd been shipped off for execution. "They put you in a cell?"
"Only for a few hours. That was enough." Quinn sat down on the bed.
Carole sat down next to her. She had always wondered just how much the Cylons had questioned Quinn about her involvement in the Resistance, but this was not the time to ask. She decided to focus on the now. "Do you have any idea what they would have arrested you for?"
Quinn shook her head. "I know some of my antibiotics went missing a while ago" she finally suggested. "Although it seems odd that the military would get involved in that."
"It seems odd that the military would get involved at all. There is a civilian peace-keeping force." That was one of the things that was really bothering Carole about all of this. "Would Dr. Robert know?"
"I don't know. He's actually over on Galactica because of the Thera Sita going down. They're bringing everyone onto the Galactica, and they asked Dr. Robert to help with the transition. I haven't seen him in a week." Quinn looked defeated.
Carole wished she could tell her it would be all right, but it scared her that they both had no idea why Quinn was there. But the two of them sat in the holding cell, the minutes ticking by into hours.
Finally, the door opened and Admiral Adama stalked in. Carole had rarely seen the man in person, but anyone in the Fleet would be able to recognize him, especially in his uniform. His lined face was hard and distinctive, and maybe even a little bit scary. He was accompanied by Colonel Tigh. Carole almost didn't recognize him at first; he looked so different than he had on New Caprica. He was wearing his uniform, his hair was neatly trimmed instead of long and wild, and he had a patch over his missing eye instead of a dirty bandage. He drew back in surprise when he saw her inside the cell.
"What the frak are you doing here, Hudson?"
Adama consulted the clipboard he was carrying. "By the looks of it, she was interfering with the Marines doing their job." He handed the clipboard to Tigh and focused his attention on Quinn. "You're Quinn Fabray."
Quinn drew herself up, folding her hands in front of her neatly. "I am. And I would like a lawyer present before I answer any other questions."
Carole had to admit that she was impressed at her composure. Adama wasn't someone that you argued with lightly. He fixed his piercing blue eyes on Quinn and frowned. "I don't have time for that."
"But I don't even know what you're accusing me of!" Quinn protested.
"You're being accused of murder."
"Murder?!" Carole jumped to her feet. She'd been prepared for any answer except that. "What the frak-"
"I didn't murder anyone!" Quinn said, her face pale.
"Dr. Robert did."
"He wouldn't!"
"Yeah, that's what we said," Tigh said. "We were wrong."
"I don't understand," Quinn said, looking back and forth between them. "Who would he kill?"
"Patients," Adama said shortly. "Specifically, Sagittarons."
"Sagittarons?" Quinn shook her head. "What do you mean? I know he doesn't like them, but he's never- I mean-" she shook her head. "I don't know what you're talking about." She was on the verge of tears. "I don't understand."
"Quinn didn't murder anybody," Carole said with great certainty, putting her hand on Quinn's shoulder.
"Yeah, well, we'll see," Tigh said.
"We're just keeping her here until we can sort this out. I'm not letting her loose on unsuspecting patients," Adama said. "Not until I know that she's completely safe."
"I don't believe this. You really think that she's been killing people?" Adama's face didn't change, so Carole turned to Tigh. "Colonel, you know this is ridiculous. She worked for the Resistance!"
"Yeah, well, that doesn't make someone innocent," Tigh said, glaring at her. "Dr. Robert worked for the Resistance as well. Patched me up after the toasters took my eye. That doesn't mean he wasn't down there injecting Sagittarons full of poison."
"I didn't do that!" Quinn protested, in tears now. Carole couldn't blame her. "I didn't do it!"
"We'll see," Adama said darkly. "Fabray. Let's go." He opened the cell door and ordered Quinn out with a look. Quinn looked back at Carole with panic, but obeyed. Adama closed the grating with a clang and led Quinn out of the room.
"Saul," Carole said, reaching out and catching the sleeve of his uniform. "You can't really think she was killing patients. She's a kid!"
"She's twenty-one. Not much of a kid, Hudson." Tigh pulled away, although not roughly. "Look, we know there's a good chance she's innocent. But we thought that Dr. Robert was innocent, too, and it cost some people their lives because we made that mistake. We can't make that mistake again. We're not letting her go until we're sure."
"But you have no evidence! There's nothing you can hold her on! This can't be legal!"
Tigh shrugged. "The Old Man figures that it's better to detain one person until this is sorted out than to risk someone else dying. And he figures it's better to keep someone who's possibly knowingly defending a killer under watch, as well."
Carole's mouth sagged open. "But I-"
"That's the orders, Hudson." Tigh raised his eyebrows. "And I sure as hell hope you're right about her, or you're both going to be needing that lawyer." With that he turned and walked out, and let the door slam shut behind him.
***
"I didn't do it."
Quinn had been crying for an hour. Carole sat beside her, rubbing her back and trying to find clean portions of the sheet for Quinn to wipe her nose on. She really, really hoped that neither of them were going to have to spend the night in that bed.
"I didn't do it," Quinn repeated. "I would never do something like that."
"I know," Carole said. "You don't have to convince me, Quinn. I believe you."
"Why?" The word practically exploded out of Quinn. "No one else in here does. Why would you?"
"Because I know you," Carole said, refraining from pointing out that 'no one else in here' consisted of Admiral Adama and Colonel Tigh.
"Yes, but you've never liked me. Not that I blame you." Quinn sniffed. "With everything with the baby-"
"That doesn't mean you'd kill someone. It was also a long time ago." Over four years ago, Carole realized with a start. If Beth was still alive, she would be four. "Surviving a nuclear holocaust and an occupation makes you let a few things go."
Quinn was silent for a long time. She'd never been a girl who really let people know what she was thinking, but Carole was sure there was a lot going on inside her head. Finally, she took a deep breath and wiped her face one more time, and Carole knew she had herself under control again. "I wonder how long they're going to keep us here. I had patients to see this afternoon."
"And I have to be back over on the Daru Mozu in a few hours," Carole said. "But somehow, I don't think they're going to be overly moved by either of those arguments."
"Carole?"
"Mmm?"
"What's going to happen? If Dr. Robert really did… that and he convinces them that I did, too?"
"They won't believe it."
"What if they do?" Quinn pressed. "They've airlocked people before."
"Not many. We'll get you a lawyer, Quinn. They can't actually do anything to you without a trial." Carole was going to make damn sure of that.
"You don't know that," Quinn said darkly. "After the Exodus from New Caprica-"
"Those are only rumors," Carole said, putting her hand on Quinn's arm. "The stories about people who disappeared… think about when they came, Quinn. Right after New Caprica. Everyone was still scared then. I don't know what's going to happen with this, but we will get you through it, all right? I promise."
Quinn nodded, but Carole could see that she was still terrified. Not that she blamed her, really. After all, they were still sitting in this cell. She sighed and wrapped her arm around Quinn's shoulders. They'd get Quinn out of here, Carole was sure of that, but she might need some help. Fortunately, she had an idea of exactly who to ask.
***
Quinn was asleep when the holding cell door opened, but Carole was on her feet immediately.
"Saul, I want to speak to the Admiral."
Tigh looked up from his keys. "Thought you might say that. Come on." With a clang, he opened the cell door and inclined his head, indicating that she should follow him. With a quick glance back at Quinn's sleeping form, she did.
Tigh led her through the corridors until they came to a door. He didn't bother to knock, which made Carole realize that the Admiral had sent for her before she could demand to see him. Interesting. Also interesting that he hadn't come down to the brig to see her. Tigh led her inside the study, where the Admiral stood up from his desk to greet her.
"You can wait outside the door," the Admiral told the Marines who'd escorted her. He also nodded to Tigh, who slipped out as well. Carole turned and faced the Admiral.
Up close, he looked even more intimidating than he did on television. His eyes were a bright, piercing blue, and there wasn't the slightest trace of a smile on his face.
"Hudson," he said, finally. "I've heard the name before."
"It's a common name," Carole said evenly, determined not to give him anything. Adama's stare didn't waver, and she capitulated. "My son Finn is a Raptor pilot."
He grunted. "Thought so. Have a seat." He gestured to the chair before his desk and sat back down at his own chair. Carole sat slowly.
"We talked to Robert about Quinn Fabray," he said finally, reaching out to pour two drinks. "I'd like to hear your opinion of her."
"My opinion. And considering I got myself arrested protesting her arrest, what good would that do you?"
Adama raised his eyebrows. "I'd still like your opinion, please."
You couldn't argue with Adama. "Fine. Quinn is intelligent, manipulative, sometimes very selfish, and has a history of doing some crazy things. I was never very fond of her. But I'm quite positive that she would never kill anyone." Carole thought about that last point and frowned. "Well, at least not anyone who didn't deserve it. I could certainly see her killing someone in self-defense. But I think even that would bother her."
"Because of the baby?"
A jolt passed through her and she sat up straight. "You know about Beth?"
"I didn't know her name was Beth, but I know about the baby. Dr. Robert told me. He said that Quinn had confided in him that she had a baby at age sixteen and given her up for adoption rather than terminating the pregnancy, and that she did it for religious reasons."
"Yes." Carole felt a flash of hope. "That's all true. I'm surprised he told you that."
Adama snorted. "Let's just say he was rather dismissive of the idea." He picked up one of the tumblers and took a sip. "He told me that after finding that out, he knew she didn't have the guts to make the hard decisions."
"The hard decisions?"
"About who gets the medicine when the medicine runs out. That was his logic- that the stores would run short and the medicine should be saved for those who served the Fleet, not Sagittarons. And a girl who couldn't even see the wisdom in terminating a pregnancy that she was in no way ready for would not be have the steel to make life and death decisions in a case like this."
"Amazing how he can make the simple morals of not killing people sound like a flaw," Carole said sourly.
Adama cracked a smile. "That's what I thought. But despite his disdain- or perhaps because of it- he convinced me. He never told Quinn what he was doing."
Carole let out her breath. "Good."
Adama raised an eyebrow again. "You look like you could use a drink." He pushed the second tumbler over to her.
Carole took it, but didn't drink. "So if you're so convinced of Quinn's innocence, why am I here?"
There was a folder on Adama's desk. He tapped his fingers on it, but didn't push it over. "When you were arrested, Saul told me who you were. He had a lot to say, especially about your Resistance involvement. He also mentioned that you were associated with that singing group."
"New Directions. Yes. But they don't have anything to do with this. Quinn was the only one with contact with Dr. Robert." Carole realized she'd spoken more sharply than she'd intended. "I'm sorry. It's just that they're kids- well, not kids anymore- but they've been in my care. I'm protective."
"They're your kids," Adama said. "I understand that." He sighed and tapped the folder. "And you were wrong before. That's what I want to talk to you about."
Carole's brow furrowed. "What was I wrong about?"
"That Quinn Fabray was your only kid with contact with Dr. Robert." Adama slid the folder across the desk to her. Carole took it, puzzled. It was a thin manila folder that looked like a doctor's records. In fact, that was exactly what it was. When she opened it, the name hit her like a slap across the face.
Anderson, Blaine.
"Did he… oh my gods." Carole scanned the pages frantically. Most of it was gibberish to her, but one section stood out. Colony of Birth- Sagittaron. "Oh my gods. He didn't-"
"We don't know for sure," Adama interrupted her. "We couldn't get Robert to confess to anything."
"Quinn was so convinced he'd recover." Carole stared at the file. "If he was…."
"Doc Cottle remembered the case," Adama said. "If it's any comfort, he says there really wasn't much of a chance, and that it very well could have been the radiation poisoning that killed him anyway. We don't know for sure. But we certainly suspect."
Carole kept flipping the pages of the charts back and forth. "I don't know what I'm going to do with this," she said. "I don't know what to tell Kurt…."
"Well, given that Zarek already knows about this entire mess, I'm sure that your son does, as well. That's why I told you."
So she could be prepared. So she could deal with Kurt. Because he understood this desire to protect her kids, even if they weren't her biological children, although Kurt was close enough. Carole nodded blindly. "Thank you, Admiral."
"You're welcome." He stood. "Saul went down to get Dr. Fabray out of the brig. I'll walk you to the landing bay."
***
Carole didn't go straight to the Daru Mozu, even though she knew she should. She went back to the Cybele, and although it was the early hours of the morning, she made her way to the common area. She hadn't eaten anything since their interrupted meal almost twelve hours ago. When she got there, she was glad she hadn't gone straight to bed, because Kurt and Burt were sitting together at a table, and one look at their faces told her that Kurt knew, and they'd obviously been talking about it for a while.
"It's just how much more can I take?" Kurt asked plaintively. "I thought I was over Blaine's death, but to know that he could have survived if some racist cretin hadn't decided he needed to die because of what planet he was from. Like it mattered!" Carole sat down with them and Burt shot her a look of pure panic.
Carole was usually a very honest person. But there was something to be said for lying, especially when it protected a child. What good would it do Kurt to dwell on if Dr. Robert had killed Blaine, or if had been radiation poisoning? Kurt had already had the wound of Blaine's death reopened once, and it had not gone well with him. This time, with New Caprica lurking in the near past and the therapist taking him off his drugs, Carole thought it would go even worse. She made a quick, firm decision.
"Honey, I talked to Dr. Cottle myself. He remembered Blaine and he read over the file. He told me that Blaine wasn't going to make it."
"But Quinn said-"
"Quinn's young, and she learned everything on the job. She's never worked with radiation poisoning. She thought Blaine would live because she wanted Blaine to live. More than one doctor looked at Blaine when he came on board the Galactica, and they were pretty sure that Blaine was too sick. They tried." Carole laid her hand over Kurt's. His eyes were desperate, hopeful. He wanted to believe her.
"But Dr. Robert still-"
"No. They got a confession out of him, Kurt, and he didn't start doing this until New Caprica." Carole was making it up as she went along, and she desperately hoped that none of this would be contradicted in the trial. "Blaine died from radiation poisoning. Okay?" She gripped his hand tightly, willing him to believe. Kurt nodded tentatively, and Carole smiled. "I know what Dr. Robert did was horrible, but it didn't happen right away. Blaine wasn't murdered, sweetie, and it's going to be okay."
Kurt took a deep breath, then another, and then gave Carole a watery smile. "Thanks, Carole."
"You're welcome." He'd believed her. Carole sat back with an internal sigh of relief. Another hurdle overcome, another crisis averted. But she knew she'd better remember to call Finn and make sure he told Dr. Cottle exactly what she'd told Kurt, in case Kurt ever came asking the source. That was if it all didn't come out at the trial.
***
Carole went back over to the Daru Mozu, late and desperately needing to get caught back up. "Where the hell were you?" Grayson asked as soon as she walked into the management office.
"Jail," Carole said succinctly. "Take it up with the Admiral."
"What the hell does Adama have to do with anything? Perkins had to cover your shifts, and Xeno Fenner's been over here riding my ass about something with the Hitei Khan."
Carole sighed. "What's he want now?"
"He wants us to support him in his request for more workers."
"So? Why didn't he talk to you about it?"
"He did. But with your son working for Zarek, he thought your name might have a little more clout."
"Like that's done us so much good so far," Carole said dryly. She sighed and picked up the stack of papers that had been left on her desk, sifting through them. "It's the same old song, everywhere in the Fleet. Not enough workers and too much…." She trailed off, her brow furrowing as she looked at something.
"What?"
Carole held up the sheaf of pages that was in her pile. "Did you see this?" The top page said My Triumphs, My Mistakes. The words were typewritten, but on the first page there was a hand-written note in vaguely familiar handwriting. I thought you would like this.
"Oh. That." Grayson ran his hand over his close-cropped hair. "Actually, I did."
"What is it?"
"It's the first pages of Gaius Baltar's book."
Carole snorted and pushed it away. "Right. What a waste of paper."
"Surprisingly enough, not really."
Carole looked at him skeptically. "You're joking."
"I know. I would have said the same thing." Grayson shrugged.
Carole sat down and scanned the pages. Although we are purported to be a democracy, we are for all intents and purposes an aristocracy, one that is ruled by those that we once revered. Consider, for example, that the last formal election was Roslin v Baltar. Although the results of that election might not be the ones you choose to remember, there has been no election since. The voice of the people has once again been silenced in the name of "what's best for the people." And the people stay silent, because this authoritarian dictatorship has taken the form of a benevolent tyranny in Roslin and Adama.
"It's Baltar," she said, tossing the pages away. "Do you expect he'd ever have anything good to say about President Roslin?"
Grayson shrugged. "Read the whole thing," he insisted. "It's worth it. You know as well as I do that there's some very real problems in this Fleet."
"There are," Carole agreed. "But it's not exactly an easy situation. President Roslin's doing what she can."
Grayson eyed her shrewdly. "You're a lot more tolerant of Roslin than you were of Baltar on New Caprica."
"Of course I am. Roslin is actually trying. She's not wallowing in booze and floozy interns. I'm betting that Baltar wrote this with his dick."
Grayson cracked a smile. "If he did, it's one hell of a smart dick. Seriously, Carole, read it. There are a lot of good points in there."
"Right." Carole barely refrained from rolling her eyes. He was her boss, after all. "So when's Xeno coming over next?"
"This afternoon. This one's going to be tough- we've got a lot to go over."
"Don't we always?" Carole said with a sigh. She tossed My Ego, My Dick or whatever it was called aside and turned her full attention to Grayson. "Let's get planning, then." There were a lot more immediate problems than Baltar.
***
"Look," Grayson said two hours later, frustration coloring his voice. "We've got to stop pitting ourselves against each other. I know we're in competition for a lot of the same resources, but the problem isn't here." He gestured to indicate the three of them and Marshall Cabot, who'd come over with Xeno. "The problem is out there."
"What, the Cylons?" Cabot didn't look impressed with that concept. "We aren't going to be able to make the frakking toasters go away just because we've got too few people working shit jobs on the lines."
"No. Not the toasters. The Fleet." Grayson leaned forward. "Look, we've got to accept that the Cylons aren't going away, right? That this Fleet, this here-" he gestured again- "is how it's all going to be until we find Earth. And at the rate we're going, that could be years."
"We can't last years," Xeno said. "Not like this. Our people can't last."
"That's my point."
Cabot's brows furrowed. "What are you getting at?"
"Government derives from the mandate of the masses. Those in power are and should be held accountable for their actions."
"You sound like a high school textbook," Cabot scoffed.
"Maybe," Grayson said. He fished a pamphlet out of his vest. "I'm quoting." He handed it to Xeno, who looked at the pages with interest.
"This isn't Baltar's ode to himself again, is it?" Carole asked with deep suspicion.
"He's written more," Grayson continued, ignoring Carole. "And I've got to say, he hit the nail on the head. I can't stand Baltar, but if anyone understands exactly how the Fleet is screwed up, it's the guy who made a lot of the mess."
Xeno took the papers. "Someone gave me a copy of this. It's really worth reading?" Grayson nodded. "Huh. Maybe I'll have to give it a go."
"There aren't going to be solutions in there," Carole pointed out, unable to believe anyone was taking this claptrap seriously. "If Baltar had solutions, he wouldn't have made such a mess out of New Caprica."
"Carole, right now if a toaster told me how to fix the problems we've got, I'd kiss them." Xeno reached for his hat. "I don't care who's talking sense, as long as it can get some results."
"It's not going to! A treatise on why Roslin is wrong doesn't change anything!"
"Maybe not, but right now even a jumping off point is something. Come on, Cabot. We've still got to see Azu over on the Demetrius about our recycling schedule before the day's done. Grayson, Hudson." He tipped his hat to them, and the two men from the Hitei Kan headed off.
Carole waited until they were gone before she turned on Grayson. "Really? You're getting other people to read Baltar now?"
"Nothing wrong with reading, Hudson. You ought to try it sometime." He sighed. "Come on. We've got a lot to do on the floor as well. We'd better get to it."
Carole glanced at her watch as she followed him. There were still almost twelve hours before she was off shift. It was going to be an extremely long day.
On to Part 2
Author: lls_mutant
Fandom: Glee/Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Rating: R, for adult themes and violence
Pairing(s): BSG: canon pairings, plus Gaeta/Baltar. Glee: Burt/Carole and Tina/Mike. Cross-fandom: Puck/Ellen, Kurt/Baltar, Santana/various pilots, Sam/Rya Kibby.
Warning(s): War-related violence, abortion issues, BSG-canon suicide, torture, PTSD, character deaths. (Character deaths are both canon BSG deaths and Glee deaths.)
Fic Summary: When the Cylons attacked, the kids of New Directions were on board the Cybele, on their way to the All-Colony Show Choir Competition. Now they're members of the Fleet, being chased by the Cylons and trying to deal with the day-to-day aspects of a life after the worlds end.
Chapter Summary: Life's not fair, and Carole knew that for a long time, even before the Cylons hit. But it's amazing how unfair life can still be for some people in the Fleet.
Notes: This is a 17 part story. Each chapter is from the POV of a Glee character, working through the BSG canon. BSG canon does not change; this ends up being a "average people in the Fleet" story. More information can be found here. Also, huge thanks to kappamaki33, who is betaing this monster.
Chapter Notes: An introduction to new BSG characters can be found here.
Info Post | Chapter 1 (Will) | Chapter 2 (Brittany) | Chapter 3 (Puck) | Chapter 4 (Artie) | Chapter 5 (Santana) | Chapter 6 (Tina) | Chapter 7 (Beiste, Blaine, and Lauren) | Chapter 8 (Rachel) | Chapter 9 (Kurt and Burt (I)) | Chapter 10 (Kurt and Burt (II) | Chapter 11 (Mike)
"Baltar's alive." Xeno Fenner slapped the paper down on Carole's desk.
"Don't frak with me," Carole said tiredly. "I've got two hours before my ride comes, and I'm not missing my shift off. Let's get this meeting over with and get you back to the Hitei Kan without the bad jokes."
"I'm not joking, Hudson. Baltar's alive. Haven't you looked at a paper?"
Carole sighed and pulled the paper towards her. The picture on the front stopped her cold. There, in all his long-haired, bedraggled glory, was Gaius Baltar. "You've got to be frakking kidding me."
"Nope. They found him back on the algae planet, apparently. He's been on board since."
"And not out an airlock?" Carole scanned the article. It was an account of Baltar's discovery, arrest, and imprisonment, and plans for his future. "A trial? They're really giving him a trial?"
Xeno shrugged. "If they weren't going to, I don't think we'd know they had him in the first place."
Carole wasn't so sure about that. There were a lot of people in the Fleet who would love to know that Baltar had been pushed out an airlock, starting with herself. But on the other hand, it was rather reassuring that their government wasn't having criminals secretly killed. The Cylons had done enough of that. In the end it was what it was, and Carole had more immediate things on her mind.
"Well," she said, tossing the paper aside, "guess that's that. So what did you want to talk to me about? I assume it wasn't Baltar."
"No." Xeno looked more serious now as he sat down across from her. "It's the catalyst beds. Ours is shot."
Carole sighed and rubbed her temple. This was not what she wanted to be dealing with two hours before she was due to go back to the Cybele. Hell, this was not what she'd wanted to deal with ever. Two years ago, she wouldn't have had any idea of what a catalyst bed even was. But now she knew all too well. "Why are you talking to me about this? Why not Grayson? He heads the whole frakking operation over here, go bug him."
"Because I thought I'd soften you up first. Grayson listens to you."
Carole snorted. "About work schedules and line management, not about the technical side of things. It's the people I'm good with, Xeno, not the reactors."
"Whatever. Look, Carole," Xeno said, leaning in. "I know you've got two up and running. We need to borrow one until the hot shot chemist types over on the Persephone can synthesize enough of the zeolite for us. It will be four weeks, tops."
"So you say. And what are we going to do without it for four weeks? You think the Fleet's going to like it if algae processing slows down?"
"You think it'll be a good thing if fuel refining comes to a complete stop?"
Carole sat back heavily. This was going to be a long, miserable conversation that she wasn't going to win. For a moment she considered just conceding now, but then Fenner would think it was too easy to get what his ship needed. She surreptitiously looked at the clock. She had to argue for an hour, then she could start agreeing to things, then get off this ship and go home. With an inward sigh, Carole turned her attention to Fenner. One more hour, and then she was free.
***
The Daru Mozu had changed functions since the beginning of the journey, from tylium refining to algae processing, but the smell of tylium mingled with metal continued to hang in the air. Carole had always kind of liked the smell- it reminded her of her job in the engine factory back on Gememon, and had given her a sense of home. Her headache now reminded her of the first time she'd smelled it, and the resultant headaches she'd gotten until she'd grown used to it. That had been over twenty years ago. Carole rubbed her temples as she left the small, cluttered office and stopped by her quarters- a claustrophobic room that she shared with two other people. She grabbed the bag she had packed and then headed down to find Sam.
Sam lived in a cavernous room that had previously been used for storage. Instead of cots, thick canvas had been used to make hammocks. Carole headed for one in the far corner, where Sam was lying back in his hammock, hands on his chest and one foot on the floor, eyes closed.
"Sam." Carole nudged his foot with her own. "Sam. Sam, honey, wake up." She leaned over and shook him gently. She'd learned the hard way that Sam had a tendency to wake up panicked. "Sam. Come on."
Sam's eyes blinked open. "Huh? What's going on?"
"It's time to go. Finn will be here any minute."
"Oh." Sam closed his eyes again. "I'm not going."
Carole laughed. "Of course you're going."
"No I'm not. I told Jayla she could have my shift off and I'd work hers."
"Sam! That's the third time you've done this. You need a shift off."
Sam shrugged, eyes still closed. "Why? What's the point of taking a shift off? Rya's not here."
"But you still have friends and family who would like to see you, and you need the rest."
"I'll get sleep."
"But-"
"Carole, Jayla hasn't had a day off in two months. I'm going to work for her."
Carole bit her lip. On the one hand, Sam looked terrible. His cheekbones seemed more pronounced and he looked wan and tired. On the other hand, so did everyone else, and Carole knew the schedules weren't… well, they weren't ideal. Even her own shifts off had become a lot fewer and further between since New Caprica. She glanced at her watch. "All right," she said, capitulating. "If you're sure."
"I'm sure." Sam opened his eyes. "I'll be fine, Carole. Really."
"You'd better be." She leaned down and kissed his forehead. "Make sure you get some sleep."
"That's what I was doing before you woke me up. See you in a few days, Carole."
"See you then."
***
"So he's not coming?" Finn asked.
"Not coming," Carole said, tossing her overnight bag into the back of the Raptor. "I'm worried about him, Finn."
"Because he's not coming?" Finn seemed confused.
"Partly. But he just seems… off."
"Yeah, well, he has ever since Rya didn't come back up."
"Before that, really." That damned detention center. It had messed up both Kurt and Sam. If Carole could go back to New Caprica and bomb the shit out of it, she would, even if the Cylons weren't in it. She sighed and changed the subject. "How are things over on Galactica?"
"Not bad, I guess." Finn shrugged.
"Any more talk about promoting you to lieutenant?"
"Not yet. But I've only been in the service three years, and I shouldn't have started at ensign. I mean, I never went to college or anything."
Which was a fair enough point. Of course, one could argue that that was exactly why promotion mattered so much anyway- it was the only reward that could be given. But Finn didn't seem too bothered, so Carole sat back and held her tongue. After all, she firmly reminded herself, it wasn't like she could promote everyone who deserved it on the Daru Mozu, either. She decided to change the subject. "How are things with Rachel?"
Finn grinned. "Good, I guess. Yeah, really good. Rachel's not as crazy from New Caprica as some people are, so things are good."
"Lovely, Finn," Carole said dryly. There were forms of revenge, though. "So. When am I going to be a grandmother?"
Usually, that question would have had Finn sitting bolt upright, eyes wide and panicking. But instead, Finn just shrugged. "We've talked about it."
"Really?"
"Well, yeah. We've been together for a long time, and a lot of the stuff that was a problem on Gemenon just isn't anymore, I guess. But we want to get to Earth first. I mean, I know what it's like to not have a dad growing up, you know? As long as I'm in the service…." He trailed off, shrugging. Carole was glad. She really didn't need the visual.
"Is it bothering you?" Finn asked.
"Huh? What?"
"Your shoulder. You're rubbing it. Does it hurt?"
"Oh." Carole hadn't even realized she was doing it. "It gets a little sore sometimes, but not much. Just a nervous habit, I guess."
"What are you nervous about?"
"What's not to be nervous about?" Carole retorted. Finn snorted, and they rode the rest of the way in silence.
***
The food on the Cybele left a lot to be desired, but the dining company was first rate. For a little while, Carole was able to forget about the Daru Mozu and all the problems that awaited her when she went back. No matter what changed, no matter how many shifts she worked, no matter what was taken away and how many Cylons chased them across how many galaxies, she still had her family. Carole was aware of just how profoundly lucky she was.
After dinner, Burt took Finn down to the New Directions room to see some of the others. Carole sat down on the couch next to Kurt. "How are you doing?" she asked, nudging him with her shoulder. Like everyone, he felt thinner than he had before, but he was still there.
Kurt shrugged. "All right, I guess, compared to where I was a few months ago. Dr. Wong is trying to ease me off the meds."
"Really? That's good, isn’t it?"
"No," Kurt said with a sigh. "That's necessary. There's a limited supply of the meds left. I'm still having flashbacks, but I'm not having as many, so…." He trailed off and shrugged. Carole noticed he was rubbing his fingers together, a nervous habit that he'd picked up since he got out of detention. She stomped down hard on the compulsion to take his hands in hers and make him stop- she'd done that once before and the result had not been pretty.
"And what about… Puck?"
"Actually, I'm doing okay with that," Kurt said. "I mean, I miss him, like everyone else, but it's different than it was with Blaine or even Brit. Or maybe I'm just more used to people dying by now." He laughed lightly as if it was a joke, but Carole didn't think it was. "How's Finn handling it?"
"I guess all right. He doesn't talk about it much."
"How are you handling it?" Kurt asked, turning and facing her with such a direct look that it took Carole aback.
"Me? I'm sad, but I guess…." Carole trailed off and shrugged. "I don't have the luxury of not handling it." And not thinking about it much was the only way she could cope with having a son in the Fleet. "It's busy on the Daru Mozu."
"So I hear." Kurt was slipping out of stepson mode and into government. "Did I hear something about possible delays in output?"
"We're down a catalyst bed. Not much we can do about it, so I'm told."
Kurt sighed. "You know that's not going to go over well with the President."
"I know. But what can you do? If the President wants to come over and run the lines herself, she's more than welcome." Carole decided to change the subject back to what really worried her. "Kurt? Are you sure you're going to be okay? Going off meds?"
"I guess. I don't have much of a choice, and Dr. Wong said if I get worse, he'll make my case to go back on." He smiled and laid his hand over hers. "I'm not going to kill myself. The most that will happen is I'll descend into madness, with elegant smoking and maybe some drug use, ala Caroline Houston." He laughed lightly. It was a terrible joke, and really quite tasteless if you thought about it, but Carole was relieved. Maybe Kurt really was getting better. She squeezed his hand.
"Just take care of yourself, okay?"
"I will."
***
One of the nicest things about coming over to the Cybele was the way that New Directions often met up at the end of the day, just to sit around and play cards or chat. Right now, a killer game of double-deck Dirty Hearts was in progress in the New Directions room with the Cohen-Changs, Burt and Carole, Will, Shannon, Artie, Quinn, and Kurt. Carole was fairly certain that a lot of cheating was going on.
"So Artie. How are things going with Natalia?" Quinn asked, a sly smile playing at the corner of her mouth as she laid her card.
If she expected Artie to be embarrassed, she was wrong. "How do you think?" he practically purred. "She knows where it's at." Everyone at the table laughed, and Artie's smugness only increased as he played a card that added substantial points to the trick "And I'm sure you're picking up your share of homies over on the Rising Star."
"Hardly." Quinn smirked. "Pain isn't exactly attractive."
"Oh, come on. I'm sure there's got to be someone worth finding over there," Tina said, nudging Quinn. "At least worth finding for a little bit."
Quinn sat up primly. "I hardly think-" she began, but was cut off by a sharp knock on the door. Two armed Marines barged in before anyone could answer. Instinctively, Carole lurched to her feet.
The oldest Marine centered in on his target." Quinn Fabray, please come with us."
Quinn didn't stand up. "I'm sorry, what's going on?"
"You're wanted for questioning."
"For what? What did I do? And why are the Marines here? I have nothing to do with the military!"
The Marine's face gave nothing away. "We have our orders, Miss."
Quinn's face hardened. "I'm not going anywhere until I know what this is about."
"You're wanted for questioning on the Galactica. Let's go." The Marine grabbed Quinn's arm and pulled. Quinn struggled against him.
"Get your hands off her!" Carole said, stepping forward. Another Marine blocked her way. "You can't do that!"
"Ma'am, I can, and if you all don't stop interfering and let us do our jobs, we'll have no choice but to arrest you, too."
Carole didn't even look at anyone else. She dodged around the Marine blocking her and tried to get nearer to Quinn. "Let go of her." The Marine ignored her, pulling Quinn, who was crying now. Rage swelled up in Carole. "Let go of her now!" She didn't think- she just pushed the Marine.
She didn't push that hard- at least, it didn't feel like it. But the Marine grabbed her wrist and twisted, and before she knew it, there were a pair of cuffs around her own wrists. "I told you to step back," the Marine growled as he grabbed her by the arm. "Now let's go before this becomes an even bigger mess."
"Wait!" Burt jumped to his feet. "That's my wife!"
"And she's interfering with the keeping of the peace."
"It's all right, Burt." Carole tried to calm herself down. The last thing they needed was both of them sitting in some jail cell. "I'll be okay."
"The Vice President will be hearing about this, I assure you." Kurt found his voice, whipping out a pad and jotting something down. Carole viciously hoped he was getting the Marines' names off their uniforms. "And when he does-"
The Marine snorted. "The Admiral gives us our orders. Zarek means nothing. Come on." He pushed Carole. Her eyes met Burt's as she passed him and she smiled as reassuringly as she could. Burt's lips were pressed together so tightly that they were almost invisible, but Shannon had her hand on his shoulder. She'd take care of him. That eased Carole's mind a little, and she let the Marine push her out of the room and to the docking bay.
"Are you all right?" she asked Quinn once they were in the Raptor.
"I'm all right." Quinn took a deep breath and wiped her face with her cuffed hands. "But what could they possibly want with me?"
"I don't know," Carole said, although the word Cylon was definitely coming to her mind. That was ridiculous (although it would explain so much about Quinn's behavior in the past), but there were still five models out there. If that was what Adama thought, it was just as well Carole had come along. "I guess we'll just have to wait and see."
***
Waiting was exactly what they did. The Marines led them through a maze of corridors and to a holding cell. It wasn't as bad as it could have been; there was a bed, a toilet, and a sink. Quinn relaxed a little, too. "It's not like the cells on New Caprica."
That piqued Carole's interest. Quinn had never talked about the time between when the Cylons arrested her and when she'd been shipped off for execution. "They put you in a cell?"
"Only for a few hours. That was enough." Quinn sat down on the bed.
Carole sat down next to her. She had always wondered just how much the Cylons had questioned Quinn about her involvement in the Resistance, but this was not the time to ask. She decided to focus on the now. "Do you have any idea what they would have arrested you for?"
Quinn shook her head. "I know some of my antibiotics went missing a while ago" she finally suggested. "Although it seems odd that the military would get involved in that."
"It seems odd that the military would get involved at all. There is a civilian peace-keeping force." That was one of the things that was really bothering Carole about all of this. "Would Dr. Robert know?"
"I don't know. He's actually over on Galactica because of the Thera Sita going down. They're bringing everyone onto the Galactica, and they asked Dr. Robert to help with the transition. I haven't seen him in a week." Quinn looked defeated.
Carole wished she could tell her it would be all right, but it scared her that they both had no idea why Quinn was there. But the two of them sat in the holding cell, the minutes ticking by into hours.
Finally, the door opened and Admiral Adama stalked in. Carole had rarely seen the man in person, but anyone in the Fleet would be able to recognize him, especially in his uniform. His lined face was hard and distinctive, and maybe even a little bit scary. He was accompanied by Colonel Tigh. Carole almost didn't recognize him at first; he looked so different than he had on New Caprica. He was wearing his uniform, his hair was neatly trimmed instead of long and wild, and he had a patch over his missing eye instead of a dirty bandage. He drew back in surprise when he saw her inside the cell.
"What the frak are you doing here, Hudson?"
Adama consulted the clipboard he was carrying. "By the looks of it, she was interfering with the Marines doing their job." He handed the clipboard to Tigh and focused his attention on Quinn. "You're Quinn Fabray."
Quinn drew herself up, folding her hands in front of her neatly. "I am. And I would like a lawyer present before I answer any other questions."
Carole had to admit that she was impressed at her composure. Adama wasn't someone that you argued with lightly. He fixed his piercing blue eyes on Quinn and frowned. "I don't have time for that."
"But I don't even know what you're accusing me of!" Quinn protested.
"You're being accused of murder."
"Murder?!" Carole jumped to her feet. She'd been prepared for any answer except that. "What the frak-"
"I didn't murder anyone!" Quinn said, her face pale.
"Dr. Robert did."
"He wouldn't!"
"Yeah, that's what we said," Tigh said. "We were wrong."
"I don't understand," Quinn said, looking back and forth between them. "Who would he kill?"
"Patients," Adama said shortly. "Specifically, Sagittarons."
"Sagittarons?" Quinn shook her head. "What do you mean? I know he doesn't like them, but he's never- I mean-" she shook her head. "I don't know what you're talking about." She was on the verge of tears. "I don't understand."
"Quinn didn't murder anybody," Carole said with great certainty, putting her hand on Quinn's shoulder.
"Yeah, well, we'll see," Tigh said.
"We're just keeping her here until we can sort this out. I'm not letting her loose on unsuspecting patients," Adama said. "Not until I know that she's completely safe."
"I don't believe this. You really think that she's been killing people?" Adama's face didn't change, so Carole turned to Tigh. "Colonel, you know this is ridiculous. She worked for the Resistance!"
"Yeah, well, that doesn't make someone innocent," Tigh said, glaring at her. "Dr. Robert worked for the Resistance as well. Patched me up after the toasters took my eye. That doesn't mean he wasn't down there injecting Sagittarons full of poison."
"I didn't do that!" Quinn protested, in tears now. Carole couldn't blame her. "I didn't do it!"
"We'll see," Adama said darkly. "Fabray. Let's go." He opened the cell door and ordered Quinn out with a look. Quinn looked back at Carole with panic, but obeyed. Adama closed the grating with a clang and led Quinn out of the room.
"Saul," Carole said, reaching out and catching the sleeve of his uniform. "You can't really think she was killing patients. She's a kid!"
"She's twenty-one. Not much of a kid, Hudson." Tigh pulled away, although not roughly. "Look, we know there's a good chance she's innocent. But we thought that Dr. Robert was innocent, too, and it cost some people their lives because we made that mistake. We can't make that mistake again. We're not letting her go until we're sure."
"But you have no evidence! There's nothing you can hold her on! This can't be legal!"
Tigh shrugged. "The Old Man figures that it's better to detain one person until this is sorted out than to risk someone else dying. And he figures it's better to keep someone who's possibly knowingly defending a killer under watch, as well."
Carole's mouth sagged open. "But I-"
"That's the orders, Hudson." Tigh raised his eyebrows. "And I sure as hell hope you're right about her, or you're both going to be needing that lawyer." With that he turned and walked out, and let the door slam shut behind him.
***
"I didn't do it."
Quinn had been crying for an hour. Carole sat beside her, rubbing her back and trying to find clean portions of the sheet for Quinn to wipe her nose on. She really, really hoped that neither of them were going to have to spend the night in that bed.
"I didn't do it," Quinn repeated. "I would never do something like that."
"I know," Carole said. "You don't have to convince me, Quinn. I believe you."
"Why?" The word practically exploded out of Quinn. "No one else in here does. Why would you?"
"Because I know you," Carole said, refraining from pointing out that 'no one else in here' consisted of Admiral Adama and Colonel Tigh.
"Yes, but you've never liked me. Not that I blame you." Quinn sniffed. "With everything with the baby-"
"That doesn't mean you'd kill someone. It was also a long time ago." Over four years ago, Carole realized with a start. If Beth was still alive, she would be four. "Surviving a nuclear holocaust and an occupation makes you let a few things go."
Quinn was silent for a long time. She'd never been a girl who really let people know what she was thinking, but Carole was sure there was a lot going on inside her head. Finally, she took a deep breath and wiped her face one more time, and Carole knew she had herself under control again. "I wonder how long they're going to keep us here. I had patients to see this afternoon."
"And I have to be back over on the Daru Mozu in a few hours," Carole said. "But somehow, I don't think they're going to be overly moved by either of those arguments."
"Carole?"
"Mmm?"
"What's going to happen? If Dr. Robert really did… that and he convinces them that I did, too?"
"They won't believe it."
"What if they do?" Quinn pressed. "They've airlocked people before."
"Not many. We'll get you a lawyer, Quinn. They can't actually do anything to you without a trial." Carole was going to make damn sure of that.
"You don't know that," Quinn said darkly. "After the Exodus from New Caprica-"
"Those are only rumors," Carole said, putting her hand on Quinn's arm. "The stories about people who disappeared… think about when they came, Quinn. Right after New Caprica. Everyone was still scared then. I don't know what's going to happen with this, but we will get you through it, all right? I promise."
Quinn nodded, but Carole could see that she was still terrified. Not that she blamed her, really. After all, they were still sitting in this cell. She sighed and wrapped her arm around Quinn's shoulders. They'd get Quinn out of here, Carole was sure of that, but she might need some help. Fortunately, she had an idea of exactly who to ask.
***
Quinn was asleep when the holding cell door opened, but Carole was on her feet immediately.
"Saul, I want to speak to the Admiral."
Tigh looked up from his keys. "Thought you might say that. Come on." With a clang, he opened the cell door and inclined his head, indicating that she should follow him. With a quick glance back at Quinn's sleeping form, she did.
Tigh led her through the corridors until they came to a door. He didn't bother to knock, which made Carole realize that the Admiral had sent for her before she could demand to see him. Interesting. Also interesting that he hadn't come down to the brig to see her. Tigh led her inside the study, where the Admiral stood up from his desk to greet her.
"You can wait outside the door," the Admiral told the Marines who'd escorted her. He also nodded to Tigh, who slipped out as well. Carole turned and faced the Admiral.
Up close, he looked even more intimidating than he did on television. His eyes were a bright, piercing blue, and there wasn't the slightest trace of a smile on his face.
"Hudson," he said, finally. "I've heard the name before."
"It's a common name," Carole said evenly, determined not to give him anything. Adama's stare didn't waver, and she capitulated. "My son Finn is a Raptor pilot."
He grunted. "Thought so. Have a seat." He gestured to the chair before his desk and sat back down at his own chair. Carole sat slowly.
"We talked to Robert about Quinn Fabray," he said finally, reaching out to pour two drinks. "I'd like to hear your opinion of her."
"My opinion. And considering I got myself arrested protesting her arrest, what good would that do you?"
Adama raised his eyebrows. "I'd still like your opinion, please."
You couldn't argue with Adama. "Fine. Quinn is intelligent, manipulative, sometimes very selfish, and has a history of doing some crazy things. I was never very fond of her. But I'm quite positive that she would never kill anyone." Carole thought about that last point and frowned. "Well, at least not anyone who didn't deserve it. I could certainly see her killing someone in self-defense. But I think even that would bother her."
"Because of the baby?"
A jolt passed through her and she sat up straight. "You know about Beth?"
"I didn't know her name was Beth, but I know about the baby. Dr. Robert told me. He said that Quinn had confided in him that she had a baby at age sixteen and given her up for adoption rather than terminating the pregnancy, and that she did it for religious reasons."
"Yes." Carole felt a flash of hope. "That's all true. I'm surprised he told you that."
Adama snorted. "Let's just say he was rather dismissive of the idea." He picked up one of the tumblers and took a sip. "He told me that after finding that out, he knew she didn't have the guts to make the hard decisions."
"The hard decisions?"
"About who gets the medicine when the medicine runs out. That was his logic- that the stores would run short and the medicine should be saved for those who served the Fleet, not Sagittarons. And a girl who couldn't even see the wisdom in terminating a pregnancy that she was in no way ready for would not be have the steel to make life and death decisions in a case like this."
"Amazing how he can make the simple morals of not killing people sound like a flaw," Carole said sourly.
Adama cracked a smile. "That's what I thought. But despite his disdain- or perhaps because of it- he convinced me. He never told Quinn what he was doing."
Carole let out her breath. "Good."
Adama raised an eyebrow again. "You look like you could use a drink." He pushed the second tumbler over to her.
Carole took it, but didn't drink. "So if you're so convinced of Quinn's innocence, why am I here?"
There was a folder on Adama's desk. He tapped his fingers on it, but didn't push it over. "When you were arrested, Saul told me who you were. He had a lot to say, especially about your Resistance involvement. He also mentioned that you were associated with that singing group."
"New Directions. Yes. But they don't have anything to do with this. Quinn was the only one with contact with Dr. Robert." Carole realized she'd spoken more sharply than she'd intended. "I'm sorry. It's just that they're kids- well, not kids anymore- but they've been in my care. I'm protective."
"They're your kids," Adama said. "I understand that." He sighed and tapped the folder. "And you were wrong before. That's what I want to talk to you about."
Carole's brow furrowed. "What was I wrong about?"
"That Quinn Fabray was your only kid with contact with Dr. Robert." Adama slid the folder across the desk to her. Carole took it, puzzled. It was a thin manila folder that looked like a doctor's records. In fact, that was exactly what it was. When she opened it, the name hit her like a slap across the face.
Anderson, Blaine.
"Did he… oh my gods." Carole scanned the pages frantically. Most of it was gibberish to her, but one section stood out. Colony of Birth- Sagittaron. "Oh my gods. He didn't-"
"We don't know for sure," Adama interrupted her. "We couldn't get Robert to confess to anything."
"Quinn was so convinced he'd recover." Carole stared at the file. "If he was…."
"Doc Cottle remembered the case," Adama said. "If it's any comfort, he says there really wasn't much of a chance, and that it very well could have been the radiation poisoning that killed him anyway. We don't know for sure. But we certainly suspect."
Carole kept flipping the pages of the charts back and forth. "I don't know what I'm going to do with this," she said. "I don't know what to tell Kurt…."
"Well, given that Zarek already knows about this entire mess, I'm sure that your son does, as well. That's why I told you."
So she could be prepared. So she could deal with Kurt. Because he understood this desire to protect her kids, even if they weren't her biological children, although Kurt was close enough. Carole nodded blindly. "Thank you, Admiral."
"You're welcome." He stood. "Saul went down to get Dr. Fabray out of the brig. I'll walk you to the landing bay."
***
Carole didn't go straight to the Daru Mozu, even though she knew she should. She went back to the Cybele, and although it was the early hours of the morning, she made her way to the common area. She hadn't eaten anything since their interrupted meal almost twelve hours ago. When she got there, she was glad she hadn't gone straight to bed, because Kurt and Burt were sitting together at a table, and one look at their faces told her that Kurt knew, and they'd obviously been talking about it for a while.
"It's just how much more can I take?" Kurt asked plaintively. "I thought I was over Blaine's death, but to know that he could have survived if some racist cretin hadn't decided he needed to die because of what planet he was from. Like it mattered!" Carole sat down with them and Burt shot her a look of pure panic.
Carole was usually a very honest person. But there was something to be said for lying, especially when it protected a child. What good would it do Kurt to dwell on if Dr. Robert had killed Blaine, or if had been radiation poisoning? Kurt had already had the wound of Blaine's death reopened once, and it had not gone well with him. This time, with New Caprica lurking in the near past and the therapist taking him off his drugs, Carole thought it would go even worse. She made a quick, firm decision.
"Honey, I talked to Dr. Cottle myself. He remembered Blaine and he read over the file. He told me that Blaine wasn't going to make it."
"But Quinn said-"
"Quinn's young, and she learned everything on the job. She's never worked with radiation poisoning. She thought Blaine would live because she wanted Blaine to live. More than one doctor looked at Blaine when he came on board the Galactica, and they were pretty sure that Blaine was too sick. They tried." Carole laid her hand over Kurt's. His eyes were desperate, hopeful. He wanted to believe her.
"But Dr. Robert still-"
"No. They got a confession out of him, Kurt, and he didn't start doing this until New Caprica." Carole was making it up as she went along, and she desperately hoped that none of this would be contradicted in the trial. "Blaine died from radiation poisoning. Okay?" She gripped his hand tightly, willing him to believe. Kurt nodded tentatively, and Carole smiled. "I know what Dr. Robert did was horrible, but it didn't happen right away. Blaine wasn't murdered, sweetie, and it's going to be okay."
Kurt took a deep breath, then another, and then gave Carole a watery smile. "Thanks, Carole."
"You're welcome." He'd believed her. Carole sat back with an internal sigh of relief. Another hurdle overcome, another crisis averted. But she knew she'd better remember to call Finn and make sure he told Dr. Cottle exactly what she'd told Kurt, in case Kurt ever came asking the source. That was if it all didn't come out at the trial.
***
Carole went back over to the Daru Mozu, late and desperately needing to get caught back up. "Where the hell were you?" Grayson asked as soon as she walked into the management office.
"Jail," Carole said succinctly. "Take it up with the Admiral."
"What the hell does Adama have to do with anything? Perkins had to cover your shifts, and Xeno Fenner's been over here riding my ass about something with the Hitei Khan."
Carole sighed. "What's he want now?"
"He wants us to support him in his request for more workers."
"So? Why didn't he talk to you about it?"
"He did. But with your son working for Zarek, he thought your name might have a little more clout."
"Like that's done us so much good so far," Carole said dryly. She sighed and picked up the stack of papers that had been left on her desk, sifting through them. "It's the same old song, everywhere in the Fleet. Not enough workers and too much…." She trailed off, her brow furrowing as she looked at something.
"What?"
Carole held up the sheaf of pages that was in her pile. "Did you see this?" The top page said My Triumphs, My Mistakes. The words were typewritten, but on the first page there was a hand-written note in vaguely familiar handwriting. I thought you would like this.
"Oh. That." Grayson ran his hand over his close-cropped hair. "Actually, I did."
"What is it?"
"It's the first pages of Gaius Baltar's book."
Carole snorted and pushed it away. "Right. What a waste of paper."
"Surprisingly enough, not really."
Carole looked at him skeptically. "You're joking."
"I know. I would have said the same thing." Grayson shrugged.
Carole sat down and scanned the pages. Although we are purported to be a democracy, we are for all intents and purposes an aristocracy, one that is ruled by those that we once revered. Consider, for example, that the last formal election was Roslin v Baltar. Although the results of that election might not be the ones you choose to remember, there has been no election since. The voice of the people has once again been silenced in the name of "what's best for the people." And the people stay silent, because this authoritarian dictatorship has taken the form of a benevolent tyranny in Roslin and Adama.
"It's Baltar," she said, tossing the pages away. "Do you expect he'd ever have anything good to say about President Roslin?"
Grayson shrugged. "Read the whole thing," he insisted. "It's worth it. You know as well as I do that there's some very real problems in this Fleet."
"There are," Carole agreed. "But it's not exactly an easy situation. President Roslin's doing what she can."
Grayson eyed her shrewdly. "You're a lot more tolerant of Roslin than you were of Baltar on New Caprica."
"Of course I am. Roslin is actually trying. She's not wallowing in booze and floozy interns. I'm betting that Baltar wrote this with his dick."
Grayson cracked a smile. "If he did, it's one hell of a smart dick. Seriously, Carole, read it. There are a lot of good points in there."
"Right." Carole barely refrained from rolling her eyes. He was her boss, after all. "So when's Xeno coming over next?"
"This afternoon. This one's going to be tough- we've got a lot to go over."
"Don't we always?" Carole said with a sigh. She tossed My Ego, My Dick or whatever it was called aside and turned her full attention to Grayson. "Let's get planning, then." There were a lot more immediate problems than Baltar.
***
"Look," Grayson said two hours later, frustration coloring his voice. "We've got to stop pitting ourselves against each other. I know we're in competition for a lot of the same resources, but the problem isn't here." He gestured to indicate the three of them and Marshall Cabot, who'd come over with Xeno. "The problem is out there."
"What, the Cylons?" Cabot didn't look impressed with that concept. "We aren't going to be able to make the frakking toasters go away just because we've got too few people working shit jobs on the lines."
"No. Not the toasters. The Fleet." Grayson leaned forward. "Look, we've got to accept that the Cylons aren't going away, right? That this Fleet, this here-" he gestured again- "is how it's all going to be until we find Earth. And at the rate we're going, that could be years."
"We can't last years," Xeno said. "Not like this. Our people can't last."
"That's my point."
Cabot's brows furrowed. "What are you getting at?"
"Government derives from the mandate of the masses. Those in power are and should be held accountable for their actions."
"You sound like a high school textbook," Cabot scoffed.
"Maybe," Grayson said. He fished a pamphlet out of his vest. "I'm quoting." He handed it to Xeno, who looked at the pages with interest.
"This isn't Baltar's ode to himself again, is it?" Carole asked with deep suspicion.
"He's written more," Grayson continued, ignoring Carole. "And I've got to say, he hit the nail on the head. I can't stand Baltar, but if anyone understands exactly how the Fleet is screwed up, it's the guy who made a lot of the mess."
Xeno took the papers. "Someone gave me a copy of this. It's really worth reading?" Grayson nodded. "Huh. Maybe I'll have to give it a go."
"There aren't going to be solutions in there," Carole pointed out, unable to believe anyone was taking this claptrap seriously. "If Baltar had solutions, he wouldn't have made such a mess out of New Caprica."
"Carole, right now if a toaster told me how to fix the problems we've got, I'd kiss them." Xeno reached for his hat. "I don't care who's talking sense, as long as it can get some results."
"It's not going to! A treatise on why Roslin is wrong doesn't change anything!"
"Maybe not, but right now even a jumping off point is something. Come on, Cabot. We've still got to see Azu over on the Demetrius about our recycling schedule before the day's done. Grayson, Hudson." He tipped his hat to them, and the two men from the Hitei Kan headed off.
Carole waited until they were gone before she turned on Grayson. "Really? You're getting other people to read Baltar now?"
"Nothing wrong with reading, Hudson. You ought to try it sometime." He sighed. "Come on. We've got a lot to do on the floor as well. We'd better get to it."
Carole glanced at her watch as she followed him. There were still almost twelve hours before she was off shift. It was going to be an extremely long day.
On to Part 2