The Space Between Us- Chapter 8

[mutantwrites]

CHAPTER 8: Of All My Demon Spirits

Back to Chapter 7

The stitches were out. There had only been seven of them, but they were no longer there under Louis's fingers, which meant Cottle would no longer yell at him for playing with them. The gash had healed to an angry red scar above his eyebrow.

The DRADIS beeped, but it was just Starbuck flying CAP. Louis stared at it, his eyes feeling like burned holes in his head. He hadn't slept in the week since… it had happened- not really.

The phone buzzed, and he picked it up. "Louis, I'm showing a docking, and I don't have a code. You got anything?" Jesse asked.

Louis stared at the DRADIS, trying to will his mind into activity. "I've got nothing, Jess," he said. He glanced back over his shoulder out of habit, and was just in time to catch the spark in Jesse's eyes. He sighed. He'd agreed to eat dinner with Jesse after this shift, for the first time since the… whole thing. On the one hand, he was looking forward to it, but on the other, facing Jesse was hard for so many reasons. He thought that-

The DRADIS beeped again, and this time, it wasn't one of the Fleet ships.

"Incoming, bearing seven six two," he said, snapping into action. "Single ship."

"Raider?" Adama demanded.

Louis shook his head. "No, sir, squawk's Colonial."

"Confirming," Jesse interrupted. "It's Colonial, sir. It's not one I recognize, but…" he quickly typed something and then nodded, "it's an older code. But it's authentic."

Louis stared hard at the screen, and then as the DRADIS picked up some more identifying information, his eyes flared open. "Sir," he said his voice sounding strange to his own ears, "I think that's Raptor 718." He turned in his seat and looked up at Jesse.

"Well, I'll be a son of-" Tigh began, but Adama cut him off.

"Who's out there?"

"Starbuck, Hot Dog, Twofer, and a Cylon patrol, sir."

"Have them bring it in."

"Yes, sir."

"And let's get down to the hangar deck."

Jesse and Louis exchanged glances again. Louis's heart was pounding so hard that his chest was starting to ache. Don't get your hopes up, don't get your hopes up, he told himself. There were a thousand reasons that it could be showing up as Raptor 718, and the most plausible was that the Cylons had found the dead Raptor and stripped the codes or were using it as a subterfuge.

But there was that one possibility… he stood up.

Adama shook his head slightly. "Mr. Hoshi," he said loudly. "You have the deck." He gestured to Tigh, the two of them striding out of the CIC, leaving both Louis and Jesse at their stations.

Louis stared after them for a long moment.

"It makes sense," Thornton said grumpily from the LSO spot.

"It does?" Louis asked bitterly.

"If it really was them, do you think you could ask the hard questions? The ones that Starbuck couldn't answer?"

Louis realized what sort of reception had to await this Raptor and shuddered. "No," he whispered, settling back down into his chair. "I don't know if I could."

He turned back to his station.

***

"You saw the looks on both their faces," Saul muttered as they strode down to the hangar deck.

"That's why they're both still in the CIC," Bill answered. "Who knows what we're going to find in that Raptor?"

"You think it's a trap?"

"I think that if Gaeta was in that Raptor, we would have had a more recent code, along with five ways of verifying it." They hurried down the steps. The Raptor was docking, along with the three Vipers and the heavy raider that had escorted it in. "Something else is going on."

Laura met them at the bottom of the steps, Lee at her elbow. "Raptor 718?" she said. "You can't be serious."

"I almost wish I wasn't."

The Raptor hatch opened with a hiss, and Bill pulled himself up, gesturing to the Marines. The gun safeties clicked, and they aimed at the door, ready to shoot if necessary.

From the corner of his eye, Bill saw Kara, Hot Dog, and Twofer approaching, as well as the Sixes who had been piloting the heavy raider. All of them looked apprehensive and alert. The deck crew had stopped as well. Both Laird and Tyrol were coming forward.

An Eight stepped out of the Raptor.

For some reason, Bill's stomach tightened, although he couldn't tell one Eight from another. This Eight was wearing a Cylon flight suit. For a moment he almost believed that the Eight was the one called Sarah, and then memory triggered as to who else it could be.

Boomer.

His body tensed in remembered pain and anger, but before he could say a word, a passenger stepped out as well. Tall, slim, blonde, and beautiful…

Laura's jaw dropped. "Ellen Tigh," she whispered.

Ellen's eyes were fixedly on them. "Bill Adama," she said, with that smile he always thought meant trouble.

"How many dead chicks are out there?" Bill heard HotDog ask. Ellen ignored the aside.

"I can't tell you how happy I am to see you," she said. "Aren't you going to help a lady down off this thing?"

Bill glanced at Saul, who immediately moved forward. He held out his hand, and Ellen took it, her smile lighting up for real, reaching her eyes. And he supposed it was no surprise when Saul and Ellen ended up kissing, even though in some ways it should have been.

Tyrol approached the Eight, recognition lighting his eyes. "This is Boomer," he said.

"Take her into custody," Bill ordered the Marines.

"Wait!" Boomer called, but Bill ignored it. There were bigger problems at hand. He looked at Laura.

"I think I'm glad this is officially a military decision," Laura said, a smile tugging at her lips.

"Huh." Bill was saved from saying anything by Ellen apparently breaking off the kiss and turning to look at the crowd.

"It's so good to be back," she said. "You have no idea."

Saul had still had his arm around her, but he pulled himself together, a furtive glance at Bill as he straightened into military posture. "Well, we need an idea," Saul said. "Let's go…" It was technically a command, but it had a tone of a suggestion. Bill didn't like it.

He didn't need to worry, though. Ellen practically sashayed towards him, all cooperation and smiles. But to his surprise, she stopped in front of Kara. Her face changed for a brief moment, becoming serious and wistful, and she reached out and touched Kara's cheek. Kara stared at her. "What the frak?" she began, pulling away.

Ellen just smiled serenely. "I'm just glad to see you, Kara," she said. "We'll have to catch up later." Then the moment of seriousness was gone, and Ellen smiled at Bill over her shoulder. "Since my place is out, I believe yours is in order," she said. "Let's go."

***

Kara was staring after the brass, her mouth hanging open. Sam approached her. "You okay?" he asked, touching her elbow.

"We have to catch up?" Kara repeated incredulously. She turned and looked up into Sam's face, confused and angry. "What do we have to catch up on? Maybe you and she can have tea and chat about old times' sake but I've barely ever…" she trailed off, shaking her head. "What the frak?"

"Thrace!" Laird called. "You need to take care of your bird!"

Kara started automatically towards her Viper, and Sam followed her. She looked over her shoulder at him, rolling her eyes. "I don't need a nanny, Sam."

"I'm not. I'm finishing a conversation. So you never really knew Ellen?"

"No more than anyone else on this hangar deck did," Kara muttered. But she looked thoughtful. "Do you… remember anything?"

"About Ellen from Earth?" Sam shook his head. "No. I assume she was married to Tigh there, too, but that's really it." He sighed in frustration. "I don't even remember hints or feelings or… or even have any guesses about what I might remember. All I remember is what I told you."

"That you were a frakking musician." Kara shook her head.

"Lead guitarist in 'Kara Thrace and Her Special Destiny'," Sam quipped.

Kara stopped in her tracks for a moment, and then stared up at him. Sam smiled at her, and she actually laughed. It wasn't much- short and dry and bitter- but it was more than he'd gotten out of her since Earth. For a moment, she looked like herself again.

It faded fast, just like Sam knew it would, and Kara turned around and began walking again. But she didn't yell at him to go away, and she didn't shake him off as fast as she could.

A Six caught his eye, and she smiled at him tentatively, with that reverence he didn't understand. He looked back at where the brass had disappeared, and he really, desperately hoped that Ellen would be able to shed some light on what the frak was going on.

***

The reunion of Saul and Ellen Tigh felt like it should be one of the sweetest things that Lee had ever seen. Instead, it was one of the most uncomfortable, and not only because the Tighs (or at least Ellen) had always been prone to public displays of sexual affection. Interrogating Ellen was a lot harder with her nestled firmly against Colonel Tigh, him half-glowing, half-glowering like a pit bull if anyone dared to attack her. Lee glanced at Laura and Sonja in time to see them exchanging significant glances. None of them liked this situation at all.

"So Boomer helped you escape," his father said dubiously.

Ellen nodded. "You didn't have to lock her up, you know."

"That's not for you to say," Bill said. "This is my ship."

Ellen raised her eyebrows. "Touchy, are we, Bill?" She snuggled closer to Saul, who still had his arm draped around her. "As long as she's treated well."

"She will be."

"Until her trial," Sonja put in quickly. "Boomer is a traitor."

"And we'll see to it that justice is served," Laura said smoothly, before Ellen could react. "What does Cavil want?"

"Resurrection," Ellen sighed. "I tried to explain to him that each of the five of us hold a piece to it, but… what?" she asked, as they all shifted and looked away.

"Tory's dead." Saul was the one to say it, his hand stroking Ellen's hair.

Ellen gaped at him. "Tory's dead? What happened?"

"I'll fill you in later," Saul told her.

"What's of concern now is if Cavil will come after the Fleet," Bill said. "I've already had Lieutenant Hoshi start the next few sets of jump coordinates, but we're in the middle of performing upgrades."

"They're doing the Outlander right now, right?" Lee asked. "I'll have them send the passengers over to other ships and leave a skeleton crew, just in case. But otherwise, we can jump as soon as the upgrade is complete."

His father nodded, but it was an absent gesture.

"You showed up in a Colonial Raptor," Laura said. "Raptor 718. Where did Boomer get it from?"

Ellen straightened up. "Right. That's another part of the story. One of the Cylons- an Eight- was unhappy about the alliance. She wanted to defect to Cavil."

"An Eight," Lee said with a dry mouth. "Did she go by Sarah?"

"No. It was a different Eight, but Sarah is alive."

Tigh's eye widened. "Sarah's alive?" he said, with far more emphasis than Lee would have imagined. "Is she still..." he trailed off, looking guiltily at Bill.

"She's still pregnant," Ellen confirmed.

"Pregnant?" Laura asked. She sat down slowly.

"You knew about this?" Bill demanded of Tigh.

"Cottle told me," Tigh said. "When Caprica was losing the bab…" he trailed off, obviously aware of his wife right beside him. "Oh, frak."

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Lee couldn't help a smirk, especially as Ellen narrowed her eyes. "Caprica Six was pregnant?" she said.

The temperature in the room dropped a few degrees as Tigh nodded.

"Interesting that Gaeta never mentioned that," she said, her words chosen as barbs.

"Gaeta?" Tigh jumped at the new topic eagerly. "So Gaeta's alive as well?"

"What about the others?" Lee asked.

"There's a deckhand called Brooks. Unfortunately, the two pilots were killed. So why didn't Gaeta- or Sarah, for that matter- mention to me that Caprica Six was pregnant?" She was catching on, Lee could see it. 'There must be some reason, and I'm sure it's quite interesting, isn't it? Let me think…"

"Ellen," Tigh said, his voice half-pleading, half-warning.

Ellen closed her ours. "She's like our daughter," she said. "We created her."

"I didn't know!" Tigh protested.

"This is getting off the subject," Adama interrupted. "You two can fight that one out on your own. So Brooks, Gaeta, and this Sarah are all still alive?"

Ellen finally dragged her dagger-laden glare from Tigh. "Yes," she told him. "Although I hear it's been a close call on Gaeta's part. Between poison and airlocks, New Caprica was not kind to people."

"Ellen!"

"However, I guess being a prisoner of war has its silver lining for him," Ellen continued, her voice taking on the blithe tones of a woman gossiping at a tea party. "He's at least off that leg, and it's healing better. How did he lose it, by the way?" A loaded, uncomfortable silence filled the room, and Ellen raised her eyebrows. "I see."

"The matter at hand," Laura said, her voice sterner than her body seemed to allow, "is where we go from here."

"We'll jump, of course, as soon as we can," Bill said. "Other than that, I'm not sure there's much more that we can do."

"Bill-" Laura began.

"No," Lee broke in, "he's right. Cavil's been after the Fleet anyway. Having Mrs. Tigh here doesn't really change a thing." As long as we can trust her, he thought. "More of the questions we have to answer involve what we tell the Fleet. We've withheld the information that Ellen Tigh is the Fifth Cylon for so long that we need to figure out exactly what to tell the Quorum and the press. It's not going to go over well."

"It was a military decision," his father said.

"That doesn't mean people are going to like it," Lee contradicted.

"They don't have to like it."

"But now that it's coming out-"

"It doesn't have to come out," Adama growled.

"What are you going to do? Keep her in the Cylon holding cell until we find a planet to live on? Which is probably what you should do, at least for a little-"

"Shut your mouth," his father said, glancing sidelong at Tigh. Tigh, who was glowing with happiness, despite the likely threat of castration hanging over his head once he confessed to Caprica Six's baby being his. Tigh, who had been forgiven for being a Cylon after a few drunken arguments, who still stood in the CIC and practically ran the ship. His father was never going to take Ellen away from Tigh… not unless there was concrete, undeniable, black-and-white proof that she was a threat to humanity.

"We have to tell Lieutenants Hoshi and Conoy," Lee said resignedly. "And if Specialist Brooks had a family, we'll have to-"

"No."

"What?" Lee gawked at him. "They deserve to know. You can't-"

"I can. It's kinder this way."

"You're not going after them," Lee realized. "But we haven't even looked at the feasibility of-"

"It's not feasible," Ellen said. "All of Cavil's baseships, Raiders, and Centurions are there. There's no way anyone could sneak in, much less launch a full assault."

"You snuck out," Lee pointed out.

"That was a one time only opportunity, and a huge risk. I didn't even know it was happening until Boomer put me on the Raptor."

"It doesn't matter," his father said. "This discussion is over." He glanced at Lee over his glasses. "You're dismissed. Why don't you escort Ellen down to the medical bay? Have Doc Cottle make sure she's okay."

"Oh, Bill, I'm fine. Really, if you're trying to get rid of me, why don't you just have Lee escort me to wherever my quarters will be?" she asked, with a level glance at Tigh. He squirmed.

"I want Cottle to check you over," Adama insisted. Lee understood- he was giving Tigh time to make up his own mind. He sighed heavily.

"Mrs. Tigh," he said, opening the hatch for her.

"Thank you, Lee," Ellen said, gracefully stepping out. She glanced back over her shoulder. "We'll finish catching up later."

***

"Bill," Saul said as the hatch slammed shut. "What the frak is going on?"

"I was hoping you could tell me that. Start talking."

"About everything Ellen said- creating resurrection technology, downloading, creating the Seven, and being boxed? I really don't remember it, Bill. Frak, you've known me for years- have you ever seen me set foot near the lab?" Saul brushed it aside.

"Is it true?"

Saul shrugged. "Probably. It makes sense, anyway. And to tell the truth, Bill…" he frowned. "It feels true."

"You're not just saying that because it was Ellen talking, are you?" Laura asked.

Saul glared at her, although rationally, he could admit there was good reason for her skepticism. Frak, he was skeptical himself. But there were other things to discuss. He turned to Bill. "You're really not going to tell Hoshi and Conoy that Gaeta and Sarah are alive?" he said.

"I'm not," Bill said, sitting down at his desk. He poured three whiskeys out of a bottle that was already two-thirds empty. Laura refused hers, but Saul bolted his down neatly. The return of Ellen definitely required a drink. Bill set the glass down. "If Hoshi and Conoy know that Gaeta and Sarah are alive, they'll want to launch a rescue mission."

"Can't say I blame them," Saul said.

Bill glared at him, his eyebrows furrowed down. Even though Saul was his best friend and XO and should be above being frightened by that glare, he had to admit it still made him sit up a little straighter sometimes. "If it would be anything but a suicide mission, I'd do it," Bill said. "But that's all it is. A suicide mission. We're too short on people and resources."

"So explain that to them. But they deserve to know."

"They deserve to not have their hopes raised falsely," Bill snapped. "That's all that telling them would do."

Saul looked at Laura, but her eyes were closed and the lines on her face seemed deeper. There would be no help from that quarter, he realized. He shook his head. "Yes, sir," he muttered. "I've got to get down to the infirmary. I need to catch up with my wife."

"You're dismissed."

Saul glared one more time at Bill, but Bill wasn't looking. It didn't particularly matter; when he stepped out and closed the hatch behind him, the matter left his mind.

Ellen.

He could still smell her hair and feel her against him, even as he hurried down the corridors of Galactica alone. Ellen was alive and had returned, and right now, that was all that mattered. She seemed so serene and confident….

"Now, really, Doctor," he heard her saying as he opened the door to the sickbay, "surely you can think of better places to stick that."

Then again, some things never changed.

He found the cubicle where Ellen was tormenting Cottle, as he tried to insert a thermometer into her mouth. "She won't shut up long enough for it to work," Cottle told Saul as he entered.

"Don't you have instantaneous ones?" Saul asked.

"I needed a minute of quiet."

"Good luck," Saul muttered. Ellen huffed, tossing her hair over her shoulder and crossing her legs, and then took the thermometer from Cottle. She eased it into her mouth in the most suggestive manner possible, but Cottle just shook his head.

"Cute," he said, slapping a blood pressure cuff around her arm.

"Aw, you're no fun," Ellen said. "Do I get a lollipop if I'm good?"

"Keep your lips closed," Cottle ordered. He looked over at Saul. "I'm pretty sure she hasn't been harmed," he scowled. "She's certainly not on death's door." He checked the blood pressure reading and sighed. "She's fine. Get her out of here, unless there's any reason for her to come back."

Ellen slowly spit the thermometer out. "Good," she said. "Let's go get a drink."

People were watching them as they walked back to Saul's quarters. Expressions of hate, surprise, fear, disgust… Saul tried to ignore them all. And as the hatch shut behind them and Ellen was on him, none of it frakking mattered.

***

"Ellen Tigh."

Sam was leaning against his bird as Galen tried to recalibrate the oxygen sensors. "Yup," Galen said, focused on the intricate wiring. "Ellen Tigh."

"Suppose we should have seen that one coming."

"We have seen it coming, dimwit. We've known Ellen Tigh was the fifth since Earth."

Sam sighed. "That's not what I mean," he said.

"Yeah, I know." Galen put down his pliers. "This is frakked. I'll tell Chief Laird, and he'll get you another unit. You can't fly without the oxygen sensor"

"I wonder what she remembers. Have you remembered anything else from Earth?"

Galen shook his head. "Drank enough of Joe's brew, but the most I've come up with is a pounding headache. What about you?"

"Nope." Sam sighed, sliding down the Viper and sitting on the floor. "Can't remember a darn thing, no matter how hard I try."

"Have you tried picking up a guitar?"

"Can't find one to pick up. But I thought about it, and…" Sam shook his head. "Whatever I might have known, I've forgotten it completely."

"Well," Galen sighed, wiping a little oil off the console, "It's not like we haven't been trying to remember."

"Yeah." Sam looked far away.

"What?"

"You gone down to see Boomer?"

"Frak off."

"What? Oh, wait, that's right." Sam sighed. "I forgot."

"You've got to be the only one on this blasted ship that forgot," Galen muttered.

Sam shrugged. "Thing is," he said, "the Cylons are calling for a trial for her."

"So?" Galen said.

"You think the Cylons are going to give her a fair trial?" Galen didn't answer that; he just looked down at his tools. Sam leaned in. "Remember what happened the last time we didn't give someone a fair trial?"

"Shut the frak up," Galen growled.

"I'm just saying," Sam said. "I know she's made some big mistakes, but she also helped Ellen escape. That's big, too."

"And you made such a great advocate last time," Galen snapped back. "As I remember it, you walked out rather than fighting."

"That's kind of my point. One action hardly defines everything about a person."

Galen stared at him. "You really are a doormat for her, aren’t you?"

"Who, Boomer?"

"Starbuck."

Sam shrugged. "Call me that if you want, but at least if she dies, she'll die knowing that I've got her back. And if I die, I won't have any regrets about it."

Galen scowled. "Do you want me to get this frakking sensor fixed or not?"

"Sorry," Sam said, backing off and holding up his hands in mock surrender. "I'll let you get on with it."

"Good. Now get the frak away." Galen turned back to the offending console. He didn't look back up until he was sure that Sam had left.

There was no way he was going down there. Absolutely no way.

***

"So," Ellen purred, in a way that sounded a lot more dangerous than it should when she was curled up in post-coital languor in the crook of Saul's arm, "Caprica Six was pregnant. Well, well, well."

"Ellen…."

"It didn't take much to figure out that you're the father, you know. I can believe that Brooks didn't know, but I can't believe that Gaeta didn't. Or Sarah, for that matter."

"They knew," Saul admitted. "Everyone knew." He steeled himself against the hurt in her eyes and the loss in his soul. "If I recall," he said, before she could say anything, "you don't have much room to talk."

"Now there's a way to claim the high ground," Ellen mused. "Blame the victim."

"Oh, come on!" Saul protested. "How many affairs did you have?"

"So that makes it all right for you to sleep with what amounts to our daughter?"

"I didn't know that! But you damn well always knew you were married to me!"

Ellen opened her mouth to retort, but then stopped. "What are we doing, Saul?" she asked, reaching up and touching his face. "We've been together less than an hour and we're arguing already."

"Don’t try your tricks on me," Saul said as her eyes widened and did… that thing, and she looked soft and vulnerable in that way that made him feel like he was the strongest man in the world. He cleared his throat. "When we hit the Ionian Nebula, all any of could remember was that we were Cylons. That was it. And on Earth, all we remembered was the moment we died. This whole frakking thing about creating the seven models-"

"Eight models," Ellen corrected.

"Eight? You didn't tell Bill about that."

Ellen shrugged. "I didn't need to," she said sadly. "The Sevens were destroyed long ago."

As she said it, he felt a flash. He remembered rage, rage so great that it make him shake and ripped him apart… and yet, something else. Something more. Understanding, perhaps. Something deeper.

Ellen smiled. "You remember?"

"The Ones," he said slowly. "That's all I… the Ones."

Ellen nodded.

He shook his head. "So we tried to create a new race that wouldn't turn on their maker, and what we managed was a race that not only killed off billions of humans, but turned on each other." He sighed heavily. "Maybe it's just as well Caprica lost the baby. Looks like there's plenty of evidence that I'd make a lousy father."

"No," Ellen said, her hand on Saul's arm. "Your intentions have always been good. But parents can't control their children, much as they would like to." She smiled. "If they could, your parents never would have let you marry me."

Saul smiled at that. "That's one I wish I could remember," he said.

"You made your mistakes, Saul. We all did. But you loved your children dearly. All nine of them."

"It's nine now? How many Cylon lines did we create, anyway? Straight answer, Ellen."

Ellen sighed. "We created the eight," she said. "But we had our daughter as well."

"What the frak?"

Her eyes filled up with tears again, and she laid her hand on his cheek. "Daughter," she whispered, smiling radiantly. "We named her Kara. After your sister."

The bottom dropped out of his stomach as he felt it all fall into place.

"Well, frak me. I need a drink. I really, really need a drink."

***

"Are you really comfortable with this idea? Letting Ellen walk around?" Laura was lying on the sofa, her feet in Bill's lap.

"Not really," he confessed. "But there's nothing I can hold her for." He sighed. "Aside from Tory, none of the Final Five have appeared to be a threat to us."

"Boomer didn't appear to be a threat, either," Laura said firmly. "And she did more damage than any other single Cylon. At least to Galactica."

He tried to think if that was really true. So many other problems had taken their toll, from outside and from within. He rubbed his head.

"We'll deal with it," he finally said.

Laura made a face. "Ellen Tigh has a tendency to create situations that need to be dealt with," she murmured.

Bill ran a hand over her ankle. "How did the meeting with the Quorum go?"

"We're waiting until we know a little more," Laura said. There was energy and life in her face now when the Quorum came up, but it wasn't a new passion. It was a remembered one, as if she was going through the motions out of necessity and love for what that Quorum had been to her, not as something she wanted to keep. "The Cylons will certainly react, and I'm not sure what they will want to do once they have the Final… well, Four now… in their grasp. They could easily decide to part ways with the Fleet."

"A lot of people would be happy to see that," he admitted.

"Yes, but the Fleet would suffer. The FTL upgrades are essential."

"I know," he said with a heavy sigh. "The truth is, Laura, I don't even like it. I don't like having them on Galactica, I don't like having them tamper with the engines… and it galls me to no end to have one serving in the CIC."

"It's worked out though, hasn't it?"

"Better than I could have hoped," Bill admitted. "At least from his side of things. But that doesn't change that he helped engineer the destruction of the Colonies."

"So did Athena." She nestled back into the couch. "There's no easy answer, Bill, and we can't dwell on the past if this is going to work. And it has to work, because we have absolutely no other choice. This alliance is the only hope for humanity."

"At least we know who they all are now," Bill said. "And where they are. That's something, anyway."

***

"Kara," Saul slurred for the eighteenth time. "Kara Thrace."

"Kara Tigh, originally, but yes." Ellen ran her fingers delicately around the rim of her glass. "The two of you always did butt heads, but you adored her."

"Care to explain how the frak she doesn't remember any of this?"

"Do I really need to? Cavil wiped all of our memories. Yours, mine, Galen's, Tory's, Sam's… is it so hard to believe that he wiped Kara's, too?"

"Does she know?" Saul asked. "That she's a Cylon, I mean?"

"I'm her mother, Saul, not a mind reader. Ask her."

"What, just stride up to Starbuck and say, 'hey, kiddo, got a hug for your old man?'" Saul took another drink, only to discover the glass was empty. "Frak. This whole damn mess is insane."

Ellen reached over and poured him another glass. "Was she in the Fleet when you reached the Ionian Nebula?" she asked.

"In the Fleet… Good question. That's when she returned in her Viper, but… she wasn't on Galactica yet. She came back as the Cylons were attacking."

"I was able to send a pulse to you all then," Ellen said.

"A pulse?"

Ellen shrugged. "Cavil gave me a razor," she said. "It wasn't hard, and I had help. A Five that…" she trailed off, and then shook her head sadly. "It doesn't matter. There was a cable in the head. It was for regulating the water supply, but with a little reprogramming, I could access the mainframe."

"Right," he said, shrugging.

"I would have preferred something a little less… mundane, but you work with what you have," Ellen sighed. She turned her arm over, and Saul saw the faint scar running up her forearm. "I wasn't sure how much sending the pulse would accomplish, if it could bring back your memory or if it would work at all." She shrugged, her thin shoulders moving gracefully.

"Kara's a Cylon," Saul said slowly. "Bill won't be happy to hear that."

Ellen frowned. "I'm not really concerned with what Bill Adama thinks right now," she said. "You're her father. What are you going to do?"

"I should tell Bill."

"What, and get his sage advice?" Ellen asked sarcastically.

"No, and alert him. I should have told him I was a Cylon, back when I first found out. If I had…" he trailed off and shook his head.

"Saul," Ellen said, "this is between you and Kara. And me, for that matter. We're the family, not Bill Adama. You, me, Kara, Galen, Sam…"

"Galen and Sam are family?"

Ellen nodded. "We helped Galen through college when his father- your brother-in-law- died," she said. "And Sam married Kara a year before the attack."

Saul rubbed his face. "Any other apples hanging off this family tree that I should know about?"

"Galen was engaged to Tory, which you were quite opposed to. I never did quite understand why. It took him long enough to find someone after Anne broke his heart."

It was all coming too fast, too overwhelming, and for a moment he just wanted to stop swimming and let himself be pulled under. And the worst of it was that he remembered nothing- not a word of what she was saying. It could all be true, or it could all be a complete fabrication. He rubbed his forehead and examined his glass again, as if it held the answers. As if it would help him even ask the right questions.

"Are you all right, Saul?" Ellen said. She rubbed his arm. "You really didn't remember any of this, did you?"

"You think I've been pulling your leg?"

"No," Ellen said sadly. "I was just hoping… when I sent the pulse, I was praying that maybe you'd remember more. Just a little."

He shrugged. "Sorry." He reached out, took the bottle, and poured them both another glass. "I think it's going to be a long night. All right, Ellen. Fill me in on my life."

***

The ball thunked against the hangar deck wall, making a satisfying metallic noise. Sam caught it easily as it bounced back at him. It felt good to be down here in the hangar deck at night, when it was quiet and mostly empty. There was room to move, and he could just play without having to worry about tripping over someone's feet or crashing into a passerby.

Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.

"What are you doing?"

He started at Kara's voice. "I couldn't sleep," Sam admitted, hurling the ball against the wall with a little extra force. He had to jump a little to catch that one.

"Can't just flip a switch?" Kara asked. "Power down for the night?"

"Funny." He threw the ball again at an angle that sent it bouncing towards her. She caught it, and then threw it back without really looking at him. "What are you doing up?"

"I couldn't sleep either."

"Yeah, I kind of noticed that. I know you haven't been able to sleep well since you came back, but it's gotten worse, hasn't it? Since Earth?" She nodded. "What's going on, Kara?" he said. "Talk to me."

"What's going on?" she laughed hollowly. "I disappeared for two months that I don't remember, I led us all to a nuclear wasteland which was nothing like what I saw when I went there, and my husband is a Cylon. And you wonder why I'm not sleeping."

Sam ignored her sarcasm. "Can I ask you another question, then?"

"Can't stop you."

"What happened to Leoben?"

Kara threw the ball against the wall harder, and Sam had to lunge to catch this one. "Haven't seen him since Earth," she finally said. "I asked one of the Sixes, and she said he's under watch over on the baseship."

"Under watch?"

"He's gone crazy, Sam," Kara snapped. "Just like the rest of us. The Six told me that he won't leave the room… he just sits there babbling like a hybrid, but with even less sense." She clearly didn't want to talk about it any more. It was there in the tension in her arm as she threw the ball, in the way she wouldn't look at him. "What were you thinking about when I came down?"

The question caught him off guard; it was more than she'd asked him since… he couldn't even remember. So he told her. "I was thinking about Jean."

"Jean? Jean Barolay?"

"Yes, Jean Barolay." He caught the ball, wound up, and threw it again. "Look," he said, "just because I'm a Cylon doesn't make the things I felt before that switch went off any less real. You should know that by now. Jean was like a sister to me. I miss her."

Kara nodded. He glanced over at her, and he saw that she was watching him. "What?"

She tossed the ball up and caught it, and then managed a fake smile. "Want to quit farting around play for real?"

"You're on," he said.

They chose their goal posts and faced off, and even though it was improvisational, it was good. And it was exactly what Sam needed. There were few people left alive that could play pyramid like Kara could. Even though he was a Cylon, she challenged him physically, and mentally… well, few people could out-strategize Kara.

But he was one of them, and he beat her by a point.

"Best two out of three?" Kara asked, wiping away the sweat that dripped down her nose.

"At least," Sam agreed as they took their spots again.

It felt good to run, to dodge, to jump. Life on Galactica was full of sitting- sitting in briefings, sitting in meetings, sitting in a Viper… this was real. This was…

"This is the lab," a woman's voice said, as she walked beside him. "I'm sure that you'll find that the technology here exceeds your expectation."

The door opened, and they entered a sterile white environment. A woman wearing goggles was huddled over a work bench, and a man in a blue lab coat was standing at a plasma board, writing equations and then wiping them away in frustration. His hand was precise and neat, and when he turned, his smile was friendly.

"You're Sam, right? McGurk's student."

"I am. It's an honor to be working here, Dr. Tigh."

He fell to the floor, tripping over his own feet in the confusion. Kara vaulted over him, laughing as she scored a goal.

"That's three for me and- Sam? Are you okay?" She bent over and grabbed his arm, helping him to his feet.

"Yeah," he said wonderingly. "I…"

"What is it?"

"I remembered something." He looked up, looked into her face. "Kara, I remembered something. I mean, what would you say if I told you Tigh was a professor?"

"Tigh a professor?" Kara repeated incredulously. "I think I'd laugh my ass off."

"Right," Sam agreed. "There's no way I could make something like that up. And I was there. I remember now."

"How much?"

"Just a little. Just being taken into the lab and meeting Tigh- Saul, anyway- for the first time." He realized something. "I'd already met Ellen."

Kara's eyes narrowed. "What made you remember?"

Sam looked down at the ball in his hands. "You know how when you run, or when you play, you hit those… those moments?" he said slowly. "The ones where you can feel the perfection of creation? The elation of action and reaction?"

Kara stared at him. "That's why I fly," she said.

"Scientists call them endorphins," Sam said. He took the ball from her, passing it from hand to hand. "A chemical reaction in the brain."

"Runner's high. Yeah. So what?" Kara asked.

Sam shrugged. "That's what I was feeling when I had the flashback," he said. "Like someone unlocked something inside me, just for a minute, and a connection in my brain sparked back to life."

"So… you're saying that the solution is to play more pyramid?" Kara said skeptically.

"Hasn't it always been?" And Sam couldn't help but smile.

***

"All right," Sam laughed, facing Kara yet again across the court. "You're going down."

"You talk the talk," Kara taunted. She'd discarded her tanks and was playing in her bra, sweat sluicing down her hair and back. "But can you walk the walk?"

"Oh, you know it baby," he said, and dodged her.

It was frustrating. Whole games went by where he couldn't connect, couldn't access a thing. All he saw were the gray walls of the old hangar bay. Occasionally an image or two would flit through his mind, but sometimes he wondered if they were even things from this life, things he already remembered from Caprica.

"What the frak's going on?"

Sam caught the ball and looked over. Figurski was watching them, a toolbox in his hand and an incredulous expression on his face.

"Pyramid game," he said cheerfully. "Want to play? I think Starbuck here is about ready to poop out on me."

"You wish," Kara laughed breathlessly.

Figurski shook his head, a wistful smile on his face. "My playing days are long past," he said ruefully. "Although I used to be pretty good. I could ref for you, though. If he's cheating, that is," he told Kara.

"That's the only way he'd win," Kara said.

Figurski looked around the landing bay wistfully. "You know," he said, "there's enough room in here that you could get a proper tournament going. Get a few more players, enough room for people to watch… kind of like when we had the Dances."

Sam cringed at the mention of Dances, but at the same time, he knew Figurski had a point. "A few more players would be a good idea," he told Kara. "More of a challenge."

Figurski grinned. "You're looking for a challenge? Give me a few days, and I'll have a little league going for you."

"Thanks, man," Sam said, clasping Figurski's hand. Figurski waved and headed back to whatever he'd been repairing before he'd heard Kara and Sam. "This could be good," Sam told Kara. "Anything I can recover is more than I had. I'll take all the help I can get."

Kara nodded. "But until then," she said, holding up the ball, "got one more in you?"

Sam grinned. "You'd better believe it, baby."

***

Saul and Ellen found Kara and Sam on the landing deck. They were sweaty and laughing, and from a distance, they almost seemed like a normal, happy couple.

Ellen cocked her head. "They're happy, then?"

Saul snorted. "Like hell they are. They're miserable. But who on this blasted ship isn't? What's this, Thrace?" Saul asked, gesturing to their makeshift court.

"Pyramid game, sir," Kara answered. She glanced at Sam. "Sam thinks that…" she trailed off, shrugging as she tossed the pyramid ball from hand to hand.

Saul looked at Sam. He didn't seem embarrassed at all. In fact, he looked flushed and happy. "I've been able to remember a few things," he said, excitement in his voice. "Things about life on Earth, about what we did before the attack."

"You don't have to do it that way," Ellen volunteered. "I remember everything. I could fill you in."

"You're kidding." Sam looked from Saul to Ellen. "Do you remember everything, too?"

"No. Just Ellen."

"That's…" Sam glanced at Kara, who was watching Ellen skeptically. "Wow. Listen- if you don't mind sticking around, I'd just pulled up one. Not a very useful one- just playing under a tree with my best friend when I was a kid- but a memory all the same. I'm kind of in the zone. And it's different, remembering things myself instead of being told them. But after Kara and I finish this game, I'm going to sit down and get my history lesson, okay?"

"Of course," Ellen said.

"We'll watch," Saul said, leading Ellen over to some crates that could serve as seats.

"You could play shirts against skins!" Ellen suggested. Saul stared at her, and she looked at him innocently. "What?"

"Frak, woman, that's your own daughter's husband! Have a little decency!"

"Oh, please. It's just appreciation." She settled onto the crate, but as they sat together she became pensive. "She really did make it back. I didn't imagine it. She's here and she's safe, and we have another chance."

Saul nodded.

"I still love John," Ellen said, watching Kara. "I could have forgiven him for what he did to me, and even for what he did to you. But he took," she choked and steadied her voice, "he didn't just take our daughter. He took even the memory of her, that we forgot she even existed. And so help me, Saul, I'm not sure I can forgive that."

"I'm not sure we're meant to," he answered.

Her fingers laced through his, and he squeezed them gently. They didn't look at each other; only watched the game in silence.

***

There was a knock on the hatch, and Bill sighed in frustration. "It's late," he said. "Who could it possibly be?"

"It can't be that important, or they would have called," Laura pointed out, but Bill was hauling himself to his feet anyway. When he opened the door, he almost groaned.

"What do you want?"

"Excuse me for interrupting, Admiral," Baltar said, "but you wanted to know about any incidents that happened down in Dogsville."

"Great. This is just what I needed," Bill grumbled. But unfortunately, Baltar was right. "Sit down," he ordered, "and make it quick."

Baltar sat, slumping in his chair. To Bill's mild surprise he looked tired. He hadn't shaved in a day or two, his hair was not neatly groomed, and his clothing was rumpled. "Since you ask so kindly, I'll keep it short. Two of my followers were attacked by five of the Sons of Ares the other day. They were able to fight them off, but I'm afraid that their escape did not come without cost, to either side. One of my followers is in sickbay, and two of the Sons of Ares are dead."

Bill sighed heavily. "I see." He glanced over at Laura, who was listening. "I'll want to speak to your two… followers," he said heavily.

"That can be arranged. And they have descriptions of the Sons of Ares, as well. I know one of them was Charlie Conner."

"You know that?"

"It's a description I'm quite familiar with, Admiral," Baltar said stiffly.

"I see." Bill decided he really didn't want to know. "Anything else?"

"I understand that Ellen Tigh and the Cylon known as Boomer have rejoined the Fleet."

Bill raised his eyebrows. "It's not your business, Doctor," he said. "If you have nothing more to add-"

"It's a valid position, Admiral. Especially since I must assume that this means that Ellen is the last of the Final Five, and that you must have known this."

"It doesn't matter."

"Oh, but it does. You've lied to the press and to the people. What else are you lying about, Admiral? What else are you hiding?"

"I don't answer to you," Bill growled. "You've made your report. Now get out."

Baltar glared at him, but stood up and gave a mock salute. "Yes, Admiral," he snapped. The hatch couldn't close fast enough, and Bill turned back to Laura.

"Helo's done a lot of things that I've questioned," Bill said. "But nothing is quite as bad as him giving Gaius Baltar his seat on that Raptor the day the Cylons bombed Caprica."

Laura giggled, but her face turned serious quickly. "We should have seen this coming, Bill," she said.

"What, Baltar? Or the Sons of Ares?"

"News about Ellen and Boomer getting out, and the Fleet putting all of the pieces together. It destroys trust."

"They don't have to trust us," Bill said.

"No," Laura said carefully. "They don't have to. But it works a lot better if they do." She sighed. "We've made a lot of mistakes, Bill."

"Don't I know it."

"It's not too late to fix them."

He dropped his arm around her. "What happened to wanting to live a little?"

Laura's smile was the saddest one he'd ever seen. "This… this Fleet. This is living, Bill."

"So you say." He sighed. "It still just feels like existing to me."

He wondered why she looked so concerned, so worried. But she smiled then, and kissed his cheek softly, and he decided to forget it.

***

They all sat on crates, Sam and Kara facing Saul and Ellen, the landing bay quiet now except for the sound of their voices.

"You know, it's funny," Sam said, leaning forward eagerly. "Every time you say something, I can almost feel like it's true. I don't actually remember it, but I know you're not lying."

"It could just be that you want to believe it," Kara pointed out. "You're convincing yourself."

"I'm not," Sam insisted. "I… I can't explain it. But she's right."

"We always did get along rather well, Sam. Ever since you started working for us," Ellen beamed at him. "In fact," she said, looking at Saul, "why don't you and I take a walk, and we can catch up a little more?"

Sam glanced back at Kara, who shrugged. "Do you mind?"

Kara shrugged. "I don't care, Sam. Unless you wanted to play some more."

"You need a break, Kara," he said. "You're good, but you're not a Cylon." Ellen took his arm and nearly pulled him out of the landing bay, leaving Saul and Kara alone together.

Saul cleared his throat. "Well, I'm not gonna get a better opening than that," he admitted.

"What?" Kara scoffed, "you're going to tell me I am a Cylon?"

"What would you say if I did?" Saul asked.

He expected either anger or scorn. The Starbuck he knew would either get in his face and demand that he take it back, or her laugh her ass off, depending on her mood. But this Kara just looked at him. "Am I a Cylon?" she asked. Saul couldn't answer for a moment. "Am I?" she asked again, her voice rising. "Tell me!"

"Yeah," he said quietly. "You are."

She took a step back, her hands falling helplessly to her sides. "Frak me."

She smiled up at him, luminous in her white dress, her hair in an elegant twist. It wasn't what she had wanted, this wedding, but looking at her, you'd never know it. The orchestra started playing, and he placed one hand on her waist, caught her hand in the other. They moved awkwardly, the eyes of every guest in the room on them.

"Still wish you eloped?" he asked her.

Her smile was radiant. "Absolutely," she laughed.

But he tightened his hand around hers, and even though he'd offered to help her do just that, he was so glad that she hadn't. Because he never would have had this dance otherwise.

He was back in the present, with his daughter standing in front of him, trying to make sense out of her life. "Yeah," he said. "You're a Cylon. But you're not one of the ones we built."

"You didn't create me?" she asked tentatively.

"Well, now, I wouldn't go that far," Saul said, bracing himself. "Because actually, we did. Me and Ellen."

"But if you didn't… wait, no. Frak, NO!" Kara stared at him. "You've got to be joking. There's no way…" she trailed off, trying to form coherent thoughts and failing utterly.

And then exploded into laughter.

He joined in, and soon they were laughing so hard they had to hold each other up, choking on it.

"It's not a joke," he told her. "I'm serious. I'm your father."

That only sent them into fresh gales of laughter. Finally, Kara wiped her eyes, calming down as she clutched her sides. "Tell me you have a flask on you," she begged. "Because I really, really need a drink."

***

Yet another knock. Bill closed his eyes and groaned. "Can't this ship run itself for five minutes?" he asked.

Laura, who had stood up long enough to get a glass of water, glanced at his desk and then at the clock. "This one's actually scheduled," she informed him. "It's Chief Laird."

"Well, at least it's someone who talks sense," Bill muttered.

Laird looked tired when he entered; Bill wondered if there was anyone on the ship who wasn't about ready to keel over from exhaustion.

"I'll keep it short, sir," he said. He had saluted when he walked in, but now he stood with his hands in his jumpsuit. "I've run some diagnostic tests on Galactica."

"Diagnostic?"

"Yeah, well, after our last jump, I was hearing some hiccups in the FTL drive. I told you that." Laura raised her eyebrows. Bill had mentioned it in passing, but there had never been much follow up.

"Yes," Bill said. "But you said the drives were fine. It was a problem with the coupler."

"Yup, and it was. The drives are fine. But when I was down there, we found structural damage to the hull of Galactica."

"And we've had teams fix that," Bill said. "Get to the point."

"Yeah, well, that damage is mainly because Galactica's so old," Laird said. "No matter what we do, ships don't last forever, and Galactica was ready to be done four years ago. So I injected-"

"What are the results, Chief Laird?" Bill said.

Laird sighed, shifting from one foot to the other. "There are hairline fractures all through the superstructure and the hull," he said. "The drives are fine, but the ship herself… she's not going to take much more."

Bill's face paled, and for a long moment he couldn't move. It was Laura that leaned forward. "How much more can she take, Chief?" she asked, keeping her voice as calm and even as possible.

"Five or six jumps, I'd say. That's all." Laird shrugged. "And that's assuming that Cavil doesn't find us before that." When neither of them said anything, he continued, "You have to remember, Galactica is a very old ship. She was ready to be decommissioned before the attacks, and all the nukes and the dropping into the atmosphere on New Caprica and escaping supernovas and wild goose chases have taken their toll on her."

"That's enough," Bill said firmly. Laird fell quiet, looking back and forth between them. "Is there any way to fix it?"

Laird shrugged again. "I've been talking a little to some of the Cylons, and they've told me about this resin they use on their baseship. It's possible it could work on the Galactica, but honestly, sir? We'd better be prepared that it won't. I've seen the stuff and I've seen what it can do, but I've seen the damage, too. Galactica doesn't have much longer."

"Thank you," Bill said quietly. "You're dismissed."

"Yes, sir." Laird inclined his head and left the study. The clang of the hatch echoed behind him.

"Bill…" Laura began, her heart aching for him. She put her hand on his arm.

Bill shook his head. "Don't say anything right now, Laura," he said, and his voice shook with emotion. "Let me just take it in."

Laura tightened her hand sympathetically. Galactica was dying, and there was nothing she could do to help, because she was dying, too. And she'd never wished it could be different more than she did in that minute, when Bill first realized he was losing both his girls at once.

***

They sat on the crates together, and Kara passed the flask back to Saul. "Are you going to tell the Old Man?" she asked.

"I don't know," Saul admitted. "Don't think I should keep it a secret."

Kara snorted. "Figured as much." But she didn't argue.

"You're taking this a lot better than I thought you would," Saul said carefully.

Kara took the flask back, and took another deep drink. "Yeah, well. It makes a lot of things make sense," she said. "I resurrected, didn't I?"

"Ellen says you did. That Cavil was holding you on the baseship."

"How'd I get back to the Fleet?"

"None of us are really sure. Cavil released you or you escaped, I guess."

"But… I remember. I remember my mother, and believe me, she wasn't Ellen Tigh. And I remember-"

"And I remember fighting in the first Cylon war, when apparently I was one of the people who helped end it," Saul growled. "False memories. He put them in all of us."

"But they're so…" she shook her head. "The Four on Caprica, he said that he could tell that my hand had been broken."

"Doesn't mean you didn't break your hand with me and Ellen," Saul pointed out.

"But I remember my mother slamming it in the door, and I remember…" she shook her head. "It's all so real."

"I know."

Kara looked down at the flask, rolling it from side to side in her hands. "We don't even like each other," she finally said. "Do you think we did on Earth?"

"Don't know," Saul said, rubbing his chin. "Probably not." They both grinned ruefully. "But I'm pretty sure I loved you."

Kara slipped the flask into her pocket. "And I'm pretty sure you've had enough of this if you're saying crap like that," she said. "It's not like you at all."

"Suppose not," Saul agreed. Not that either of them truly knew what he'd been like, or what she had been like for that matter. "We'd better talk to the Old Man," he sighed. "This isn't going to be a fun one."

Kara took one last swig from the flask. "Not at all," she agreed.

***

Kara had her hair slicked back and was wearing her dress blues. Saul's uniform was freshly pressed, and he was standing at attention. And Bill was sitting at his desk, staring at them both.

"You're joking," he ordered. "You're joking, and this isn't funny."

"Wish we were, Bill," Saul said. "But we're not."

Bill pinched the bridge of his nose. "You're joking," he repeated.

It bothered Saul how calm Bill was. This wasn't the sign of a man accepting the truth; this was the sign of a man too tired and broken to care. "Bill…."

But Bill ignored him. He looked up at Kara. "You're a Cylon. You almost married my son, and you're a Cylon."

"I didn't know, sir," Kara said. There was a serenity about her that hadn't been there since her return. She might not have liked the answer, but at least now she had one.

"And if you had known?"

Kara shrugged. "I might have remembered I was already married to Sam. But it doesn't change that I did love Zak."

"Neither of us remember it, Bill. I'm still not quite sure I believe it," Saul said.

"I do," Bill said. He slammed his hand down on the desk. "Frak!"

Kara cleared her throat. "Nothing's changing, sir," she said.

Bill looked at her. "Do you really think that?" he demanded.

Kara raised her chin defiantly. "Yes, sir, I do," she said. "Everyone already thinks it anyway."

Saul raised his eyebrows, silently conceding the point. Even Bill nodded slightly. It was just a tiny motion of his head, but it was something- something besides anger and coldness.

"What did you think, when I came back?" Kara asked him. "What did you think I was?"

"I really didn't know," Bill admitted.

"Did you think I was a Cylon?"

"The thought certainly crossed my mind."

"Well, then," Kara said, like that proved something. What it was meant to prove, Saul had no idea. But Bill seemed to accept it.

The silence between them all stretched, poised and poignant. Finally, Bill sighed and stood up. He retrieved a bottle of liquor and three glasses.

"I think," he said, pouring generous glasses, "that this is one of those occasions where a drink is required."

"Couldn't agree with you more," Saul said. He waited patiently until Bill finished pouring and handed him a glass.

"Have a seat," Bill finally ordered them.

They sat, but they all finished their drinks in silence.

***

The five of them sat in Joe's.

"Would you stop grinning at me like that?" Kara said crossly. She knocked back her shot of whiskey. "It's not like it's this big accomplishment."

"I didn't say it was," Sam said, trying to fight the smile back. But he couldn't help it. It was a big deal, because he'd known it. He'd known it. Not that Kara was a Cylon specifically, but that there was some connection between them, right from the start. Something that was bigger than lust or mutual admiration, something deeper.

Tigh just shook his head. "Glad someone's happy, anyway." He looked over at Tyrol. "Did you see the report from Laird?"

"About the cracks in the ship? I did the injections. Hairline fractures all over her," Tyrol said gloomily. "She's not gonna last much longer."

"Bill must be devastated," Ellen said, although her voice wasn't at all sad at the thought. Tigh glanced at her darkly, but didn't comment.

Kara raised her eyebrows, but just took a drink. Sam touched her shoulder. "Hey. You all right?"

"Of course, Sam. It's my first night drinking in the secret Cylon club. And it's everything I ever dreamed, ever since I was a little girl."

"No need to bite my head off," he said affably.

Kara sighed, leaning her forehead on her hand. "At least this takes care of Leoben's 'special destiny.'" Ellen opened her mouth, apparently thought better of it, and closed it again. Kara noticed. "What?"

"No, it's…."

"No, you know something. What?"

"It's just…"

"Come on, Ellen," Tigh said. "We’ve all been in the dark long enough. If you know something, spit it out."

Ellen took another swallow of her drink. To Sam's surprise, she looked genuinely distressed. "When John modified the other six models to take away their memories of a Sixth," she said slowly, "he started with the Twos. He mostly knew what he was doing, but…" she took another drink, grimacing not so much at the taste as at the memory. "The first Two he was successful with eventually took the name Leoben. Well, mostly successful. At least Leoben survived it. But when John did the modification, something was corrupted in Leoben's memory. Leoben had an echo of a memory of a sixth, and that Kara was somehow associated with that. But what he could remember was very vague. Eventually, he must have decided that it was God talking to him, and that Kara was… special."

"So you're saying that this guy's obsession with Starbuck was a programming glitch, not the voice of God?" Tyrol asked.

Ellen shrugged. "The voice of God is a peculiar thing, and rarely straightforward. There may be a reason that his memory corrupted the way it did." Tyrol glared at her, and Ellen sighed. "But yes, Galen, his obsession with Kara was likely borne from what John did to him."

Kara was still staring at her drink moodily. "At least you have an explanation," Sam told her.

"Yeah." She took a deep breath. "Yeah," she said again, with more confidence. She was looking at something else now. Sam followed her gaze. "When did Joe get a piano?" she asked.

"Huh?" Tyrol glanced over his shoulder. "Oh, yeah. They moved it on board after the Outlander developed engine trouble. I guess no one wanted to leave it." He paused. "Do you play?"

Kara nodded. "My father… well, the father that Cavil made up for me," she amended bitterly, not really looking at Tigh, "was a concert pianist. Anyway, he supposedly taught me."

"Think you really can play?" Sam asked.

"Don't know."

"You could go over and-"

"No." Her voice allowed no argument. For a moment, Sam considered, but he looked at her face again and changed his mind. Instead, he picked up the bottle and poured her another drink.

"There's something else that needs discussing," Tyrol said. "The Cylons are talking about leaving the Fleet. Especially with Galactica in such desperate condition. It's not like we- they- can provide them- us- with much protection."

"Wait, I thought this was an alliance," Sam said. "I thought that they gave their word."

"Yeah, but if the Fleet can't live up to theirs-"

"You don't know that they can't," Tigh broke in. "If we get the Galactica fixed or find a new planet, we'll be able to protect them all right."

"I'm not leaving," Kara said. "Not as long as Cavil's still out there."

"I'm not leaving, either," Tigh said. "Not as long as the Old Man needs me."

"And I'm not breaking my word," Sam said. "Or leaving you." Kara rolled her eyes, but at the same time, he was pretty sure he saw acknowledgement there- acknowledgement and gratitude. "That's three to two. I suppose you two are welcome to go with the Cylons-"

"I'm not leaving my family," Ellen said stubbornly.

Tyrol shrugged. "Guess that's it," he said. "We're staying with the Fleet." He knocked back his drink. "Probably for the best anyway."

But the reservations were clear on his face.

On to Chapter 9