Chapter 8: No Navigator to Find My Way Home

[mutantwrites]

Chapter 8: No Navigator to Find My Way Home

"All right. You want to give this a shot?" Kara asked.

"You're joking, right? We're on a rescue mission, and you want me to fly us over?" Hoshi looked incredulous.

"Right now we're just on a shuttle mission," Kara said with a shrug. "Take the controls." It wasn't so much a request as an order. Hoshi heard the tone and slid into the pilot's seat.

Kara expected him to be timid about it. There was something about Hoshi that just seemed that way, like he was too gentle and uncertain to have the balls when the pressure was on. But to her surprise, as soon as the controls were in his hands, he got that blank, focused look she suspected he had in the CIC, and while his flight wasn't perfectly smooth, it was worlds better than she expected it to be. Maybe this wouldn't be a total disaster after all.

"Not bad," she admitted.

"Noel tried to teach me once," Hoshi said. "A long time ago. Said I didn't have any feel for flying. He might be right, but then," he flicked a quick smile, "Noel is a really, really bad teacher."

The thought of Narcho training nuggets made Kara snort involuntarily. "I take it he wouldn't have been teaching your kid to drive," she said.

"Oh, gods, no. Although we did joke that we'd have him around when Julie went on her first date. I'm sure Matthew and I would have thought no one was good enough for her, but Noel… Noel was one of those boys your mother warned you about."

"Momma didn't warn me about anything," Kara muttered.

"Yeah, well, Noel always said he didn't want Julie meeting a guy like him." Hoshi laughed a little.

"Whatever. All right. You think you can do this docking?"

"Might need a hand," Hoshi admitted. When she looked, his knuckles were white.

"I'll walk you through it."

Their approach was anything but smooth, and Kara had to practically climb into the pilots' seat herself to keep Hoshi from killing them both. They skidded to a stop in the Astral Queen hangar bay in a shower of sparks, and Kara sat back in relief as Hoshi leaned forward over the controls. "If this frakking stunt doesn’t land us in the brig, we've really got to work on that," Kara informed him.

Hoshi didn't answer. He just took a few deep breaths, and then got up and started out of the Raptor. Kara followed him, swallowing hard. It had been much easier to think about teaching flying than what they were really here to do. They walked through the halls, both of them stiff and official, even though they'd both worn civilian clothing instead of duty blues, like that would somehow make it not dishonoring the uniform.

"You meant it," Hoshi said suddenly.

"I meant what?" Kara asked. At least they didn't have to walk past the cells. She didn't think she wanted to look at all those faces, people that had betrayed the Admiral and their oath. Not right now.

"What you said, about still teaching me to fly."

"Yeah. I did. If you want to," Kara added. "Narcho's probably right, you'd probably be shit as a pilot, but I could at least teach you to land without taking out the whole floor."

"Why?" Hoshi asked bluntly.

"Frak, Hoshi, I don't know," Kara snapped, because at least you don't bug me about everything was not something she would say. "It's not every day I offer my services to bridge bunnies. So shut up and take it, all right?"

"All right." He kept staring straight ahead, but Kara thought she saw him smile.

Krells was waiting for them, talking with Skulls. As they got nearer, Skulls laughed at something Krells said, and Krells chuckled as well. The sound of Skulls' laughter bothered Kara, not because he was laughing, but because it reminded her of a time that she would have been laughing with him.

The laughter faded as Kara and Hoshi approached though, and Skulls' face fell into serious lines. "We ready?" he asked.

"We're ready." Kara tossed him a gun. "Let's go do this thing."

"Good luck," Krells said, and then patted Skulls on the back. "I'll pray for you and your friend."

"Thanks," Skulls said, and Kara realized he was really worried about this. With good cause. For the first time, she realized that if they failed and the Admiral was mad enough, he'd be likely to put them all in that chair. The thought made her blood run cold.

"Come on," she ordered the two men. "We've only got one chance to get this right. Let's go get our people back."

***

Gaeta was quiet. Or, more accurately, Brother Argyros was quiet. He was sitting in the Raptor next to Helo, fingering his crutches and staring out at the stars.

"You all right?" Helo asked him.

"Do you believe in the Gods, Captain Agathon?"

Helo cleared his throat. "I believe in God."

"Ah. It's funny. I can look at these stars, at these ships… and I can see the Gods. But when I talk to people, when I hear what they say about each other, and what they do to each other… that is when I wonder."

Helo glanced at him from the corner of his eyes. "I take it that it was a long day?"

"It shouldn't surprise me that no other brothers of my order survived. But it still does." Brother Argyros sighed. "To hear the grief of the faithful…." He rubbed his forehead. "I should be grateful that I've only endured what I have." He made a face at his lower body.

"How did you lose your leg?" Helo asked. It wasn't a question he'd ever been able to ask one of Gaeta's avatars before. Either they'd been too defensive, or it had felt too personal… or his own guilt had stopped him from saying anything. But this personality was much more open.

Brother Argyros didn't flinch at the question. "I lost it on New Caprica," he said. "The Cylons…"

"I see." Interesting that Topher had programmed him to believe it had been the Cylons, and not faulty equipment or the result of a disease or anything like that. Helo wondered if all of the people Gaeta had been had lost their leg to the Cylons. Fortunately, the Persephone was coming into view. "Almost have you home."

"Good. I'm tired," Brother Argryos confessed. "And my leg does hurt. And I keep thinking about all those lost souls…"

"Everything will be all right," Helo murmured, almost unthinkingly.

Gaeta looked at him. "Now that you're here."

The words drew themselves out of Helo, like he had no control whatsoever. "Do you trust me?"

"With my life," Gaeta said, very seriously. Helo cringed, but Gaeta looked back out the window, the peace of Brother Argryos on his face. "I'll be glad to have that treatment you mentioned."

"Right." And hopefully, it's your last one.

He was tense as he docked his Raptor at the Persephone. He looked at his watch. Hoshi and Starbuck should have gotten Skulls out of the brig by now. He couldn't believe they were really going to do this, but maybe they'd get lucky. Topher wasn't exactly a morally upstanding citizen, but he really did love Adelle. And he wasn't a warrior; he'd buckle. With any luck, this would be a quick, easy operation.

Helo was pretty sure he'd used up any luck he had a long, long time ago.

"All right," he said, offering Gaeta his hand. "Let's get you in."

"I appreciate it," Gaeta said, leaning heavily on Helo. His hand closed over Helo's, and for what felt like a small eternity, Helo stared down at it. He saw their hands conjoined in a handshake each time he met a new person, when they'd been imprinted on each other as handler and Active, when Felix had begged him not to let Cottle take his leg, when he'd come aboard the Galactica for the first time. The images flashed through his mind in the time it took to blink, and then Gaeta pulled his hand away.

They made their ways through the halls of the Persephone, Gaeta leaning on Helo's arm. "Listen," Helo said suddenly, "I hate to ask, but do you have time for one more confession?"

There was a flash of exhaustion in Brother Argryos's eyes, but it was just a flash, and compassion replaced it. "All right, Captain."

They found themselves in the conference room across from the imprint room. It was tiny and surprisingly empty, but it seemed appropriate. "What can I do for you, my son?" Brother Argryos asked, once he was seated.

Now that they were here, Helo was wondering if this was the best idea. But he sat down across from the brother and looked at his face.

He remembered Felix from the days before the attacks, when he'd worn his hair short and never had a button misbuttoned or a smear on his shoes. He'd had a gleeful smile then, even if it rarely showed itself, and he'd been young. Competent, professional, decisive, and confident, but young just the same. Now the man across from him had longer, wild curly hair, streaked with gray at the temples. There were lines by his eyes and wrinkles in his clothing, and the exhaustion and despair seemed to haunt any personality that inhabited his body.

"I have a friend," Helo heard himself saying. "Felix. He's been a friend for… God knows how long. I don't." Brother Argryos nodded. "We weren't the best of friends. We weren't always real close and we'd go days without really speaking, but we were friends."

"Is he dead?"

"No. But we were on a mission together… trying to find Earth. And everything went wrong. We thought the captain… we really thought that she'd gone over the edge. That she wasn't commanding rationally any more, and that she was putting us all at risk. And so we tried to remove her from command. And when we tried, Felix got shot.

"He lived. It was just a shot in the leg. But we were on a sewage ship and light years away from the Fleet, and we were chasing clues towards Earth. I had to make a choice- a chance at Earth, or get Felix back to the Galactica in time to save his leg. I chose Earth."

Brother Argryos looked down at his own leg. "I can see where that would be a difficult decision," he said neutrally.

"I don't regret that decision," Helo said. "I did what I had to do. I can handle that. But what I do regret is how I handled everything after." He looked Gaeta right in the eyes. "I never went down to sickbay to see how he was doing. I never told the Admiral what had happened. I never offered to help, or offered comfort, or even frakking apologized. I just acted like he didn't exist, because it was easier than facing my own guilt. I left him alone, and I kept turning away because when I looked at him I didn't see my friend- I just saw how I had failed him. And he just….

"Racetrack told me what they found on that Raptor that he was on. That they found five doses of morpha. He was an addict."

"All amputees are moprha addicts at some time," Brother Argryos interrupted. "It is a highly addictive drug. Do not blame yourself for that."

"But I should have seen it. I should have known. And then when Dee shot herself… do you know what I thought?" he asked. "I thought someone should have stopped her. Someone should have seen what she was going through. And even though I was in the Raptor with her, even though I saw her that day… I think I still blamed Felix. He was her best friend. He should have seen it coming. He should have stopped it. And all the while I blamed him, and all the while I kept doing the same damn thing to him. I kept not seeing it coming. I kept not stopping it. I kept ignoring him, and in the end, he mutinied."

Brother Argryos sighed. "I'm not granting you innocence," he said, "but you are being far too hard on yourself. We do not control the actions and the lives of others. We all do what we choose. We all have our own agency. It is the greatest gift that the gods have given us- our free will. You might have seen it, and you might have argued with him. But he might have gone ahead and done it anyway."

"But what I've done now is worse," Helo said, rushing on. "I was angry after the mutiny. Very angry. He attacked my wife and daughter, and he attacked me. And when the asked me to help take away his agency, his free will, I said yes. Because I was angry. Yes, I had orders, but I've stood up to orders before. I should have said something. I should have done something before I reached this point, where the only thing I have left to do is to go against the Admiral."

Brother Argryos sighed. "Orders. This is why I dislike the military, even though I comprehend the need for it. Because you must follow them, and so often, following orders can destroy a person's soul. I don't even want to think about what other horrible orders you've had to follow during this war."

"It's not usually like that," Helo said.

"No, I imagine it's not. But this is one of the times where it is."

"I'm not looking for advice," Helo told him. "I know what I'm going to do."

"Then what are you looking for?"

"The chance to say I'm sorry." Helo slid to the edge of his chair and took Gaeta's hand. "What you did… it was wrong. I'm still angry at you for it. All the lives you lost, all the pain you caused, how close you came to destroying the Fleet and what's left of humanity. But what I did back to you wasn't right, either, and I'm sorry. And whatever happens tonight, I want you to know that. And I know you won't, not really, but it was something I had to say."

"I see." And as much as Helo wanted to believe there was a flash of acknowledgment and pain in Gaeta's eyes, there was nothing. Only Brother Argryos. "You are obviously sincere in your feelings. I truly hope that you have a chance to put it right in this lifetime."

"Yeah, well, I hope so, too," Helo said, rising to his feet. The clock was ticking and he needed to get Felix back into that tabula rosa state, hopefully for the last time. "Come on. It's time for your treatment."

"Right. That treatment." Brother Argryos struggled to stand, and Helo leaned over to catch him by the arm.

When they opened the door to the conference room, they found Adelle and Topher right outside. "Captain Agathon," Adelle said. She was surprised, but she covered it well. "I didn't realize you were back."

"Yeah, well, we got back early," he said. "And Brother Argryos is ready for his treatment."

"Yes. I'm sure." Adelle looked directly at Gaeta. "The seeds of the tomato grow into plants."

"What?" Helo asked, but Gaeta suddenly snapped into attention as best he could.

"Have you secured the perimeter?" Gaeta asked. "Are we ready to go?"

"Ready, Major," Adelle said, a smile toying at the edge of her lips. She handed Gaeta a gun, and he dropped one crutch and took it.

Helo's eyes widened. "What the frak is going on?" he asked. He turned to Topher, who shrugged.

"It's a nice little trick we had up our sleeves," Topher said, in a voice that sounded more like he was bragging than remotely ashamed.

Adelle nodded at Gaeta, who turned and aimed the gun at Helo. "Hands above your head, Captain. And on your knees."

"Wait a minute. I-"

"I said NOW!" Gaeta roared in a voice that must have rang through the CIC when he took over. He cocked the gun. Helo looked to Adelle and Topher. Adelle's arms were crossed, and all the amusement in her face was gone. But what made Helo shiver was the serious look on Topher's face as well. There was no humor, no good nature, nothing. Whatever this was, Topher was just as serious as Adelle.

Helo sank to his knees. Just a few minutes, and the cavalry would be here.

"Keep him there," Adelle ordered Gaeta. "Until the others arrive. We only need a few minutes."

"Yes, ma'am."

"I'll go get them. Topher, get the chair warmed up."

"All right."

Adelle disappeared into the Actives' room, and Helo held his breath. And somehow, he wasn't surprised when she emerged with Playa Palacios. What was a surprise was that they had Laura Roslin between them, bound and struggling.

Oh, shit.

***

Tom sat in the back of the Raptor, his knees almost up to his chest, gripping his gun. They were approaching the Persephone from a different angle this time, but he'd know that small, inconspicuous ship anywhere. He shoved the memory down and braced himself, checking his gun.

Next to him, Athena was chewing on her lip. He didn't really like the idea of standing shoulder to shoulder with a Cylon, but they needed all the help they could get. And even Tom had to admit that if there was a Cylon in the Fleet he should trust, it was this one. If nothing else, Felix said that she'd had nothing to do with New Caprica and been in her own prison cell for the bulk of it.

Gods, Adama was the king of Stockholm's Syndrome if he could inspire loyalty in a woman he locked up for over a year.

Skulls had his head tipped back and his eyes closed, and up front the comedy duo of Thrace and Hoshi were arguing. Playa and the crew from the Hitei Kan had all bailed out on account of supposedly being unable to fire a weapon; Tom suspected they just weren't willing to die for this. Which was fine- an uncommitted fighter was more of a liability than an advantage- Tom knew that. He just couldn't help wishing he had a little more coherent of a group.

"Something's wrong," Thrace said suddenly. "What's that Falcon X-5 shuttle doing here?"

Tom leaned around and saw the shuttle already docked. It was one of the older shuttles used by civilians among the Fleet. He glared at Hoshi. "You were supposed to make sure the schedule was cleared," he snapped.

"I did!" Hoshi shot back.

"Then why the frak is a shuttle docked here?"

"He made sure," Thrace interrupted. "If Hoshi's going to frak us up on this mission, it's not going to be through organizational details, okay? It means either they've got visitors or they know we're coming."

"If they know we're coming, they're not going to make it so obvious they're waiting for us," Skulls pointed out. "They'd hide the shuttle."

"Unless they don't care," Hoshi said. He pulled his gun out and checked the ammo. "You heard about how their Actives fight, right? And what's to say they didn't do that to Narcho and Racetrack?"

"Well, we're here," Thrace said. "You guys want to back out?"

"No." Hoshi and Tom said it together. "Come on," Tom ordered, leaning forward. "Let's go forward. There's really no other option."

"Right," Thrace sighed. "Fight 'em till we can't."

"So say we all," Tom muttered, and cocked his own gun.

***

The first thing Laura saw when they pulled the bag off her head was Helo kneeling in front of her, and the second thing she saw was Gaeta, holding a gun on him. She struggled for her composure, and with a few deep breaths, found it.

Take stock, she ordered herself firmly, and forced herself into something resembling calm.

They were on the Persephone, that much was clear. Laura knew these hallways all too well. She was in the corridor with Adelle's room to the right of her and the open door to the imprint room right in front of that. The imprint room was flanked by four people: Sierra, Narcho, Victor, and Racetrack. All four held guns, and all four looked alert and at the ready. Laura stood still.

There was a woman on either side of her. Playa and Adelle. Her jaw clenched. They weren't holding her very tightly, but with the cramped space and the four guards with guns, Laura was pretty sure they didn't need to. She wasn't going anywhere.

"Let's get moving here," Topher said from the door of the imprint room. "Unless the plan's changed and the idea is to make her brain go 'splody after all. Cottle's going to catch on that she's not over on the Inchon Velle pretty soon."

Helo looked up. "What the frak are you planning on doing? You can't make the President an Active!"

"We don't have to, Captain Agathon," Adelle said coldly. "She already is."

"What? No. That's not possible." Helo looked at Laura. "How could that be possible?"

"That's not relevant right now, Captain Agathon," Laura said coldly, inwardly kicking herself for ever agreeing to this. But then, if she hadn't, she'd be that much closer to dead by now. She glared at Adelle. "Is this your idea of payment?"

"If you'd like to call it that, yes. I prefer to think of it as fixing the democratic system." Adelle's expression was cold. She arched an eyebrow at Laura's confusion. "What did you think we were going to do? We are in the business of giving people what they need, and what they need is an end to the alliance. What they need is an active President who-"

"Drop the gun, Gaeta."

Adelle snapped around, and when Laura looked, Sharon Agathon was standing in the hall, gun trained on Gaeta. Tom Zarek, Kara Thrace, Louis Hoshi, and a tall man that Laura belatedly realized was Skulls were ranged behind her, all holding guns as well. A wild flare of hope surged up inside her. There might be a way out of this after all.

"Drop the gun, Gaeta," Sharon repeated, taking a few steps closer. Narcho and Racetrack both had guns trained on her, but aside from a flick of her eyes to the side, she barely seemed to acknowledge them.

Helo was watching his wife. "Sharon, don't. He doesn't know who he-"

"Frak that," Sharon growled, and Helo's eyes widened. He lunged up and shoved Gaeta against the wall, just as the gun went off. They both fell to the wall, and Narcho fired at Sharon. Fortunately, Sharon had ducked at the last minute, and the bullet embedded itself in the wall.

"ENOUGH!" It was Topher that roared it. "I keep telling you people that guns near the equipment is a bad thing! I am a frakking genius, why doesn't anyone ever listen to me?"

Sharon was scrambling towards Gaeta and Helo, and when Laura looked, she saw that both of them were on the ground. Gaeta was unconscious, but it was Helo that was bleeding.

"Karl!" Sharon was on the floor.

Kara glanced at Hoshi, and turned around and began to run. Laura would bet everything she had she was calling in reinforcements.

Adelle reached the same conclusion. "Stop her," she ordered the Actives. Narcho and Racetrack took off after her, and Hoshi, seeing Kara outnumbered, took off after them, making a wild dive and nearly catching Racetrack. Unfortunately, she evaded him, and he ended up almost bouncing off the wall.

Tom glanced over his shoulder as the four of them left, scowling. Laura couldn't read his face. His gun was still raised, still trained on Adelle. Victor and Sierra still had their guns on him.

Adelle smiled. "All right. Why don't we all listen to Topher and put the guns away? Captain Agathon is already hurt, and that's enough for one day."

"You first," Tom growled.

Adelle nodded at Sierra and Victor, who lowered their guns warily. Tom put the gun up for a minute in a gesture of surrender, and then moved to where Helo and Gaeta were lying on the floor, stepping around Sharon. He barely spared a glance for Helo, but bent down and checked for a pulse on Gaeta. That was when it hit Laura: he was here for Gaeta.

He wasn't here for her at all.

***

A gun fired, but the bullet missed. Kara kept her eyes firmly in front of her and kept running through the twisting halls. The Admiral had to know what was happening to his pet project, what they were doing-

Narcho launched himself and tackled her, and Kara hit the floor heavily. She was trapped under his weight, but his hold was weak. She squirmed to turn over and managed to get a punch off into his face, hoping she broke his nose. His head snapped back with the force of her fist, but he was still bearing down on her too heavily to for her to get free.

"What the frak are you doing, Hoshi?" Kara shouted. "Having a tea party with Racetrack?"

There were a few answering grunts and the sound of flesh on flesh right nearby. Kara managed to push Narcho off her enough to get her foot braced on his solar plexus, and then pushed. Narcho staggered back, colliding into Hoshi and Racetrack, knocking her off balance enough that Hoshi could break free. He stumbled towards Kara, trying to staunch the flow of blood down his face.

"I think the bitch broke my nose," he complained, as they started running again.

"I am never going to let you live down that I had to save you from getting your ass kicked," Kara said. The adrenaline was coursing through her and they were almost to the airlock now. The hall came to a tee, with a corridor off to the left and another off to the right, and the airlock port right there. She could see it, and once they were there, they'd get the Admiral and he'd-

A gun fired, and there was a shower of sparks as the small control panel for the airlock burst into flames.

"You'd better be able to fix that," Kara growled at Hoshi.

"Right. I didn't exactly bring a tool kit on a rescue op, Starbuck. But wait! Maybe, if you have some chewing gum and some tin foil, I can jerry-rig the capacitor to the drive feed and maybe we can short the frakking thing open!" He shook his head in disgust. "What do you think this is? A bad TV show?"

"You can't do anything?" Kara demanded.

"I've got a frakking army knife on me." Hoshi dug it out of a pocket. Kara had seen army knives before- hell, she had one herself- but Hoshi's wasn't standard issue. It had three times as many gadgets and attachments as anything she'd ever seen.

The doors to the rooms on the Persephone were actual doors, not hatches. Kara shot the lock on the nearest one and flung it open. It barely covered them. "Get your ass in gear then!" she shouted. Racetrack fired, and they both ducked. "Do it, Hoshi!"

"One miracle, out of my ass," he muttered. "It would help if you could stop them SHOOTING AT ME."

Kara took aim. Racetrack and Narcho had managed to pull open another door and taken cover. She waited until Racetrack poked her head out and then fired.

"You're not trying to kill them, are you?" Hoshi muttered. "The point was to get their minds back in their bodies."

"Don't worry," Kara said, "they'll be in one piece."

"Forgive me if I don't find that overly comforting after what happened to Felix on your ship. FRAK!" He jerked his hand back, shaking it in pain. "We'd be better off shutting down the circuit. At least then I won't electrocute myself doing this."

"That's it!" Kara said, her eyes widening. "Shut down the circuit! If we shut down the power to this floor of the ship, the secondary systems will kick in enough to keep everyone alive, but they won't be able to work that damn imprint chair."

"Which is what we need them to do." But Hoshi ducked behind the door with Kara. "We can't get the Actives back in their bodies without power."

"But we'll stop whatever they're going to do to Roslin. Thirty cubits says they're putting her in that chair."

Hoshi nodded. "You're right," he admitted. "If they wanted her dead they would have shot her already. This is a J-12 class transport. The main power grid should be two levels down." He looked around. "There's a staircase at the end of that hall there,"

"Let's go. On the count of three." Hoshi nodded and put his gun up. "You run, I'll cover," Kara ordered him firmly. "One… two… three."

Hoshi ran for the corridor and Kara followed, firing back as Narcho and Racetrack began chasing them. Hoshi flung the door open and yanked it shut as soon as Kara got through, and then used one of the attachments on his knife to do something to the lock.

"They teach you that in Colonial Scouts?" Kara asked.

"Right up there with how to tie a hitch knot and singing songs as we made s'mores," Hoshi said, thundering down the steps. "Come on. Let's go."

***

Gaeta was alive. Tom breathed out a sigh of relief, and then stood back up. It looked like Helo had been shot in the shoulder, but he'd live. He turned to more interesting matters.

"All right," he said, addressing Playa, "start talking."

Playa remained cool. "Separate interests, Tom. I didn't sell you out." She frowned. "Weren't you supposed to be here later tonight?"

"Plans changed," Tom said coldly. "But it does bring up a new question. What the frak are you doing to Laura?"

"Like you'd care?" Playa asked. "You wanted her dead."

"I tried to kill her," Tom corrected. "There's a difference. Her death only would have served a purpose- I would have taken no visceral satisfaction in it."

"Look, all very interesting, debating the moral grays and all that," Topher spoke up, "but again. Cottle. President. Inchon Velle. As in, he's going to figure it out and the Admiral is going to send in the cavalry. I might be good, but there are laws of nature that even I haven't figured out how to break. So let's move it."

"No," Tom said. "You're not putting her in that chair." He was down the rest of his force, but he nodded to Skulls, and Skulls grabbed Victor, putting his gun to his head. "Now, you're going to listen to us. Let her go. And then Gaeta, Narcho, and Racetrack. Back in their bodies. Now. Or we will shoot Victor."

"Oh, calm down," Adelle snapped. "I'm surprised at you, Mr. Zarek. I thought you'd be all for this."

"No." Tom shook his head. "No one should live like this."

"Plenty of people have," Adelle said, "including the Delphi Representative and the Caprican Secretary of State. Not that it matters much any more." She smirked. "Most of their life has been their own. They aren't zombies, Mr. Zarek."

"A matter of opinion."

Adelle glanced down the hall, frowning. "Look, Mr. Zarek, as Topher has mentioned, we are on a rather tight schedule here. And I have absolutely no wish to see Victor dead. This might be the end of the world, but I am, at heart, a business woman. So here's what I'm offering. You let us go about our business, and once we're done we will return Mr. Gaeta to his body and let you and him go."

"What about Mr. Allison and Ms. Edmondson?"

"Ms. Edmondson is off the table. She was quite enthusiastic. Mr. Allison… considering what I'm giving you, I'm going to have to say no."

"What if you had another Active?" Skulls asked. Tom stiffened.

Adelle arched an eyebrow. "You're not mutinying against Mr. Zarek and turning him over to me now, are you?" she asked, a mocking lilt in her voice.

Skulls snorted. "Hardly. I've just been thinking a lot about what Racetrack said. I didn't like the idea at first, but now that I've seen how the whole thing goes in practice… I'm tired of remembering. I can't stand the nightmares and the pictures and the wall and everything we've lost… I can't stand any of it any more. Just sign me up."

He wanted to be an Active. Skulls had agreed to come with them not to save Racetrack, but to join her. Would have been nice if he'd mentioned this information a little sooner.

"I am not in this business for fun, Mr. McCall," Adelle said, frowning sternly. "I do not derive my satisfaction from the process of making Actives, but rather from giving them purpose. And, of course, from the money I am paid. Since money is meaningless, I am looking for other payment."

"I didn't think you were getting enjoyment. I was just suggesting swap me for Narcho. It's all the same, isn't it, for the stuff you're having us do."

Adelle considered. "I see," she finally said. "All right, Mr. McCall. Your offer is accepted. We'll release Mr. Allison from his contract as well."

"There's still the matter of Laura Roslin," Tom said, glancing at her. Laura was still pale, stiff and taut and poised for action.

"There is. But if you don't stop us, Mr. Zarek, we'll give you the one thing you want more than anything," Adelle said.

Tom shook his head. "I would not take the Presidency this way."

Adelle smiled. "I wasn't talking about the Presidency, Mr. Zarek. But I think our goals are very similar. All of us," Adelle gestured vaguely, "have supported Laura Roslin for a long time. But just before Earth, she stepped over a line that should never have been crossed. And since Earth…. The end goal, Mr. Zarek, is not to destroy the President, or even to change her too much. The end goal is to end this alliance for good."

Tom's breath caught. Of all the things… It hit him hard, like a sucker punch to the gut. "The alliance with the Cylons?"

"Of course. What did you think? We were more than ready to follow you when you were trying to leave the baseship behind. When we imprint Laura Roslin, we will imprint her with herself, but with a few important changes, including how she feels about this alliance."

"And the Admiral?"

"If there's anyone that can convince him, it's Laura Roslin."

Tom was silent for a long moment. Everything came to a crystal clear standstill, and he looked at Laura. Laura, who had in some way defined his life ever since the Cylons attached. Their eyes met, and he realized his thoughts were showing on his face.

"This is where you're supposed to say you're not like me, and that you'd never let me live this way," Laura laughed bitterly.

Tom didn't smile. "No, Laura. I'm exactly like you. I'll do what I have to in order to get what I want." He stepped back, putting his gun up in the air. "Go ahead," he told Adelle. "I won't stop you."

"Good. Topher, give the-"

A gun clicked, right against Adelle's head. "He won't stop you," Sierra said, "but I will."

***

Kara and Hoshi stared at the bank of breakers. "Tell me you can figure this out," Kara said, "because this is not my strong point."

"Of course not. It's not a phallic symbol that blows things up," Hoshi said. He stepped closer. "And yes, I'm aware that a little creative restructuring of that sentence makes this situation very humorous."

"I have more class than that," Kara muttered, offended that she hadn't thought of it first. She crept to the door. The banging sounds had stopped. "I don't think it's going to take them long to figure out where we went."

"Doesn't matter," Hoshi said. He had his knife out and was doing something to the panel. "Give me a minute and…. there. That should do it." There was click and a low hum, and then a few lights came on. He slumped against the panel. Kara glanced over her shoulder at him.

"Don't relax too much. We still have to get through to the Admiral. We need to find a phone, although the Raptor wireless-"

"Don't even think about it." The click of a gun sounded, and when she turned back around, Racetrack had the gun in her face. "Back up," she ordered, "and put the gun down."

"You, too," Narcho ordered Hoshi, who'd set his gun down to work. Hoshi sighed heavily and raised his hands slowly, and Kara swore to herself.

"And why do you think-" Kara began, but she was cut off as Racetrack took a step forward and delivered a stunningly fast crescent kick to Kara's hand, knocking the gun out and sending it spinning across the floor. It came to a rest against the wall across the room, but Kara was staring at her hand. There was no way Racetrack should have been able to do that. Not from what Kara remembered of her. She sighed and raised her own hands in surrender.

***

"Sierra…" Adelle's voice was taut. "Do you trust me?"

"With my life," Sierra ground out. Of course, Laura realized, it made sense that Adelle would be Sierra's handler. "But trust doesn't matter this time. You are not making another unwilling Active." But her gun was shaking, and she was sweating. There was conflict here, Laura realized, and it wasn't a guarantee what would win; programming or the real Sierra, whoever she was.

"Gaeta was a criminal," Adelle said coldly, obviously realizing the same thing. "And while you get all self-righteous, consider that she was the one that ordered it."

"The blame doesn't matter!" Sierra shouted. "I don't care who the frak did what! I just want-"

The lights went out.

Laura tensed, but the gravity and the air didn't change, and the little emergency lights along the hall floor lit up. The primary power had been turned off, but the backup systems stayed on. Kara. She was sure it was Kara. She closed her eyes for a moment, grateful.

"What the frak!" the annoyed shout came from the imprint room, and Topher came out. "They're not here yet, are they? And what did I say about the guns? Everybody put the guns down!"

"Nobody's doing anything right now, Sierra," Adelle said through clenched teeth. "The chair won't work without power. If you shoot me, it won't change anything. If you shoot Topher, no one- you, Victor, Gaeta, Narcho, or Racetrack- will get back to their selves." She stepped away and turned around slowly. Sierra was still holding the gun, but her hand was shaking. "Put the gun down," Adelle said hypnotically. "Everything will be all right."

"Now that you're here," Sierra said, but her voice was trembling so hard it was almost impossible to understand her.

"Do you trust me?" Adelle asked.

"With my life."

"Good." Adelle gripped her wrist firmly and lowered the gun, then took it from Sierra's hand. She put the safety on and tossed it to Topher, who caught it awkwardly.

"Don't know what good this is going to do me," Topher muttered. "Unless the power comes back on before Adama gets here, we're frakked."

"Narcho and Racetrack might still get the power on."

"With the imprints I gave them?" Topher muttered. "Not likely. But I guess there's always a chance for a miracle."

***

"So do we shoot them?" Narcho asked Racetrack.

Racetrack shook her heads. "I'm not so sure I want to. They're military."

"How can you tell?" he asked, like whoever he was had worked with whoever she was before and knew she was good at picking these things up.

"Look at their guns. Look at his knife. And ten cubits says," Racetrack came close and slid her fingers under the ball chain on Kara's neck. "Yup. Dog tags. I've got a K. Thrace. Who have you got?"

"L. Hoshi." Narcho's brows furrowed as he ran his fingers along the edge of the dog tags, and then to a silver ring. "So if we aren't killing them, what are we doing?"

"We need the power back on," Racetrack said. She studied the banks. "Got any ideas?"

"Nope. But Hoshi here is the one that turned it off. I say we convince him to turn it back on."

Hoshi gulped, and Kara suddenly had a bad feeling about this. If she was going to create a soldier, she'd make them ruthless enough to get information from an enemy, and that couldn't be good.

"Noel, wait. Don't do this," Hoshi said.

"Noel? My name's not Noel."

"Who am I talking to, then?" Hoshi said. When Narcho didn't answer, he sighed. "Look, if you're going to torture me or whatever, I at least should be able to know who's doing it."

"I'm not going to torture you," Narcho said. "At least, not much. You look like you'd break pretty quick anyway."

"So give me your name."

"Do I know you?"

"You don't know him," Racetrack scoffed.

"Yeah, but his voice…." Narcho turned back to Hoshi. "I swear to the gods I've heard your voice before."

"He's the communications officer on Galactica," Kara said irritably. This whole thing was getting ridiculous. "Of course you've heard his voice."

"Like I know what goes on on the Galactica?"

"You're a pilot!" Kara couldn't help saying. Narcho and Racetrack looked at each other and both started laughing.

"At least they're funny," Racetrack said.

"We have met before," Hoshi told Narcho. "Can I show you something?" He moved his hand to his pocket. Narcho started forward menacingly. "It's not a weapon," Hoshi said. "Swear to the gods, it's not a weapon, okay? It's just a picture."

"Is it a girl?" Narcho asked. Then he snapped his fingers. "I know. You were on TV on the Colonies. You were in that show C.H.O.M.P."

"No." Hoshi pulled out the picture and showed it to Narcho, deliberately angling it so Racetrack could see as well.

"That's you," Racetrack said, surprised, nudging Narcho. "And you. No wonder you know him." She looked back at Narcho, waggling her eyebrows. "You frak him or something?"

"No! No way! I didn't… I'm sure of it. I think." He looked at Hoshi. "We didn't. Right?"

"Right. Trust me, we didn't. The first time we met, you told me a rodent had crawled on my head and died."

"Seems fair enough," Narcho muttered, looking at the picture. "So that's you, I can see that, and that's me. Who's the other guy and the rugrat?"

"Matthew." Hoshi pronounced the name solemnly. "And the little girl is Julie."

"Matthew and Julie," Narcho repeated.

"Matthew and Julie." Hoshi was willing him to remember.

That was when Kara saw it. For the most part, Narcho's posture hadn't changed. He wasn't acknowledging that he knew these people, wasn't getting any closer to Hoshi. He still held the photograph like he was looking at a stranger's vacation pictures. But the hand that was holding the gun- now at his side- was clenched so tightly the knuckles were white.

Narcho shook his head angrily. "Look, I don't know what you want me to think about this. Yeah, this guy looks like me- a lot. But it's not me. You and me… we've never met." His face contorted. "But I swear I know your voice."

"That's because we've known each other for twelve years. You introduced me to your brother. You were the best man when we got married. You were there when we brought Julie home. You stayed up with her all night once just so Matthew and I could get some sleep, and when we came downstairs you were asleep, with her sleeping on your chest. You were over for every major holiday that the Pegasus was docked, and we were family. We still are family. You're the only brother I've ever known."

"I don't even like kids," Narcho muttered, but he was staring at the picture. "But her face…"

Kara couldn't believe it, but it seemed like Hoshi was getting through. He saw it, too. His eyes lit up and he took a cautious step forward. "And for six years," he continued, "I've called you home." Narcho's head shot up, and Racetrack even reacted a little to that. "Come on home, Noel. It's time to come home."

"Oh, come on. You've got to be-" Kara began, but Hoshi held up a hand sharply, and she stopped.

"Come home," he repeated. "It's time to come home."

He was begging, it was in the expression on his face and his stance. But his voice didn't sound that way at all. It was the same voice Kara had been hearing for the past month in her ear… even longer, if she flew off the main shift. It was smooth and steady, the strong, calm, confident voice she heard in every battle and every CAP anymore. "Come on home," Hoshi repeated, and Kara felt it- that strumming joy in her own soul of being called home.

"I don't know what you want me to do," Narcho whispered.

"Put the gun down," Hoshi said. "Put the gun down and we'll go upstairs and get this mess sorted out."

Narcho hesitated, and then gently placed the gun down on a bank of breakers.

"Hey!" Racetrack said. "What are you doing?"

"I can't shoot him," Narcho said. "I don't know if I believe any of this, but this is frakked up and I want it sorted out." He looked away. "I'm ready to go home."

"That's…" Racetrack shook her head. "That's ridiculous," she said, but without the heat Kara would have expected. "That's-" She was cut off by the sound of boot steps.

"Frak!" Kara dove for her gun. Hoshi picked up his own, and Narcho snatched his back up. All four of them braced for the door, waiting as the boot steps grew louder. As Kara heard that there were more than just a few, she began to relax. And when an entire squad of marines appeared, led by Tigh, she put the gun down entirely. "Took you long enough to get here, sir."

Tigh looked at them with confusion. "What the frak are you all doing down here?"

"Turning the power to the second tier off, sir," Kara answered. "Or, more accurately keeping it off."

"It's already done?" Tigh turned back to a marine. "Well, that makes our job easy." He looked critically at the four of them. "Take them all up under guard, but it's Narcho and Racetrack you really have to worry about." He frowned. "But keep a good eye on these two, too. They've got a hell of a lot of questions to answer."

Kara sighed and put her hands on her head, and followed the marines and Tigh out.

***

They all heard the boots before they saw the marines. Laura straightened up, and Tom and Adelle found themselves exchanging panicked glances. The darkness made it hard to see, but Tom was pretty confident there was an expression of vindication on Laura's face.

Shit.

"I will shoot myself before I let you put me in that chair," Tom told Adelle. "And I will shoot Gaeta, too, if he's not put back in his body."

"Everybody drop their weapons." Adama's voice was strong and powerful as boomed through the hall.

The marines tried to fan out, failed, and took their positions. One stood over Helo and Sharon, both of whom were still on the floor. One trained a gun on Playa, another on Adelle and Sierra. One had a gun on Topher, who immediately put both hands up. And three had their guns on Skulls, Victor, and Tom. Adama moved forward, Lee puppydogging at his side.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't shoot you all," Adama said.

"Because the highly sophisticated equipment is in the next room and if you damage it, everyone's stuck exactly where they are?" Topher suggested.

"These are trained Marines at close range, Mr. Brink. They're not going to miss."

"Oh." Topher shrugged at Adelle. "Then I've got nothing."

"Because execution without due process of the law is murder," Tom said. "You know that. You're a lot of things, Admiral, but you are not a murderer."

"You've had your trial," Adama began, and Tom braced himself, his heart pounding but his breath coming slow.

"Wait, Dad. You can't do this. Not until you know what they were doing." Lee pushed his father's gun arm down. "Because there's no way Tigh got down there and turned the power off already. Something else is going on here."

Adama looked around. Even in the dim light, Tom could see the doubt forming on his face. Between all the guns that were out, Sierra still trembling in anger, the face-off stances, and Laura standing in between Playa and Adelle, and Gaeta and Helo down, it was clear that there was no simple story here.

More marines approached before Adama could say anything else, and he turned to see the intruders. These led by Tigh, and they had Narcho, Racetrack, Thrace, and Hoshi, hands all on their heads. It was the sight of Thrace, her chin stuck out defiantly as she looked at the Admiral, that seemed to make the Admiral understand.

"Kara," he said. "What have you done?"

"I'm sorry, sir," Thrace said, her hands still on her head but her chin held high, "but there wasn't any other choice. I know what you were doing did a lot of good, but it was wrong, sir. You can't mess with people's souls like that."

"It's not a soul," Topher piped up. "It's a complicated program of data downloaded into an organic matrix that… nobody cares about right now, so I'll just shut up," he petered off, looking around. "Can I just say that if you shoot me, nobody knows how to operate this equipment?"

"Nobody's shooting anybody," Lee Adama said, taking a step forward. "Not right now. Let's just get everyone back in their bodies, all right? Then we'll sort it out from here."

"No." Adelle's voice was stiff. "Not yet."

"What do you mean, not yet?" Lee said.

Adelle raised her chin. "I want immunity. Or at least that clean slate you've been talking about. For everyone here."

"Immunity? You were about to program the President's brain!" Lee snapped. "Your life is a pretty good deal."

"Not good enough," Adelle said. "Nothing in life is all that fair, is it, Mr. Adama? And neither is this. If you want these Actives back in their bodies, I suggest that this entire matter get swept back under the rug. After all, I'm sure Ms. Palacios would have some very interesting things to say about it in the Fleet News. Particularly how becoming an Active was involuntary on Mr. Gaeta's part."

"You have no proof of that," Adama said.

"Oh, no?" Adelle asked. "You don't think we tape these sessions, in case something goes wrong and we need to figure out what it was?"

The Admiral wavered. Tom himself wasn't sure if he was terrified of Adelle, or admiring her greatly at this moment. "I could order this entire lab searched and-"

"That's only if it's still in this lab, or on this ship. There are a lot of places that someone could hide a disk of data, Admiral."

"And how do we know this disk even exists?" Adama asked. "How do we know you're not just making it all up?"

"That's a risk you're going to have to take, isn't it, Admiral?" Adelle said. "But you know the truth, and so do some of your crew." She gestured towards Kara and Hoshi, and then Lee. "Guilt is a powerful motivator, Admiral."

Adama didn't respond.

"All right," Laura said, stepping forward and taking control. "This is what we're going to do. Adelle, Topher, Victor, and Sierra will be granted immunity. All Actives will be returned to their own bodies. Mr. Zarek and Mr. Gaeta will be imprisoned on the Astral Queen. Admiral, I will leave it to you to deal with the rest of your people as you see fit. Then all copies of the imprints of living people will be destroyed, and the imprint technology will be disabled, but not destroyed. A crucial piece will be given to Galactica for safe keeping."

Adelle nodded. "I think that can be arranged."

"It will be," Laura said. She glanced at Adama. "Am I right?"

"You're right."

"That's it?" Tigh asked, surprised. "That's… it's not that simple."

"It can be, and it is," Laura said firmly. "Now someone please get Mr. Gaeta and Captain Agathon to a medical bay. Unless one of you all is secretly a doctor at this moment?" she asked, looking around at the Actives. "No? All right then."

Tom looked down at Helo. He was pale, but he was also struggling to his feet, despite the fact that Sharon was trying to make him stay seated. Gaeta moaned, stirring. Tom exhaled slowly.

"Marines, take Mr. Zarek to the Astral Queen," Laura said. "Before I change my mind. And get the power back on. We have work to do."

Tom looked back down at Gaeta one more time, watching as he opened his eyes. He didn't say anything, just nodded. Gaeta smiled- just a small, fleeting smile, and Tom smiled back.

"Come on," a marine said, prodding him in the back with a gun. "Let's go."

Tom put his hands on his head and obeyed.

On to Chapter 9