[Battlestar Galactica Reimagined 03] - Sagittarius is Bleeding

by Peter David - (ebook by Undead)

  With an irritated why-me sigh, Lee said, “Yes, sir,” turned away, and headed off to do as he’d been instructed.

  Sharon Valerii was lying on her bunk, slowly rubbing her hand across her swollen belly. She’d felt the baby stirring recently. The first time she’d felt it move, there had been the thrill of amazement that any pregnant woman feels whenever there are the first stirrings of life within her, fluttering like the wings of a butterfly. She felt a flare of jealousy, or at least envy, for other women who were able to share such moments of discovery and excitement with their husbands or lovers. Who was she going to tell? The men standing guard outside?

  There was no one to care for her.

  She hadn’t even told Helo, the father of her child. The poor bastard had gotten into so much trouble over her. When that bastard officer from Pegasus had tried to rape her, both Helo and the chief had intervened on her behalf, and that intervention had almost cost them their lives. Since then… well, she hadn’t been trying to distance herself from Helo. But she wasn’t doing anything to play upon his emotions either. She cared for him far too much to continue pouring fuel onto the raging fire that represented his divided loyalties. Whenever he did stop by, she saw the torment in his eyes every time he looked at her: She was the woman he loved, and yet she was a complete stranger to him. Why make it harder on him, just because it would make it easier on her?

  She would have laughed if she hadn’t felt like crying. She knew what the others thought of her. They believed her to be a soulless machine. She wondered what they would make of it if they knew that she was beating herself up in an attempt to spare the feelings of others.

  There was a sudden noise at the door and, as she always did, she started ever so slightly, and her hand reflexively covered her belly protectively Sharon never knew what was going to be coming through that door: something as innocuous as food, or as dangerous as someone who was going to try and beat information out of her or—even worse—take her baby from her. In the first days of her imprisonment, she had thought she was going to lose her mind with constantly being on edge. Eventually she had learned to tolerate it. The human ability to adapt to circumstances, no matter how bizarre, was…

  Human ability.

  The Cylons firmly believed that they were far superior to humans. She knew that some of the other models regarded her as weak because she didn’t believe that to be true. She believed that going around thinking you’re superior is an inherently weak attitude to have. She tolerated their contempt. She told herself that everything she was enduring, all the misery that arose from her sustained exposure to humans, was worth it. Perhaps if she kept telling herself that long enough, she’d even come to believe it.

  The door opened and she braced herself. The first person in was Lee Adama, which piqued her curiosity. She hadn’t seen Lee all that much since her incarceration, but believed him to be a bit more open minded of an individual than his father. But she was sure she’d never be able to consider him a friend or ally ever again, because whenever he looked at her he would see the face of the woman who tried to kill his father. It hadn’t been her, but in the end, it didn’t matter. She was still going to carry that stigma to her dying day… which might come at any time, and none save Helo and Chief Tyrol, her former lover, would mourn her.

  She didn’t recognize the next person, though. It was some woman, and she actually seemed pleased to see Sharon. In fact, there was even a look of triumph glittering in her eye. She went straight to the phone, sat down, picked up the receiver, and gestured for Sharon to do the same. Sharon stared at her, still not knowing what was going on, but then she shrugged and did as she was bidden.

  “Sharon Valerii?” The woman’s voice came through the phone.

  It seemed a pretty silly question. Who the hell else would she be? “Yes,” Sharon said cautiously.

  “I’m Freya Gunnerson, and if you’re interested, I’d like to offer my services as your attorney.”

  Sharon laughed. Then she saw that this Freya person wasn’t laughing along with her. Sharon turned her attention to Lee. “Did you put her up to this?”

  Lee took the phone and she repeated the question. “She came here to see you,” Lee informed her.

  “Does the Old Man know about this?”

  “Admiral Adama approved it, yes,” he said. She noted the cold use of the full name and rank of William Adama, as opposed to the familiar and loving nickname of “the Old Man” that Sharon had just employed. The message was clear: Don’t pretend to a familiarity that you’re no longer entitled to employ.

  “Why did he approve it?”

  “I’m not in the habit of questioning the admiral’s thinking.”

  Sharon laughed again. Twice in as many minutes. “Since when? Since before or after he declared you an enemy to the fleet and you took sides against him?”

  He was about to reply, but Freya took the phone back.

  “If it’s all the same to you, Lieutenant,” Freya said crisply, “I think it would be advisable if you addressed all your comments to, and through, me from now on.”

  Sharon stopped laughing and looked at Freya as if seeing her for the first time. “Why would I do that?”

  “Because he’s not your friend, Sharon. As much as you would like to believe he is… he isn’t. None of them are. They see you as a machine. They see you as subhuman and a threat. They all think they’re better than you are, and they only feel comfortable when you’re behind bars. They don’t have your best interests at heart.”

  “Nice to see that you know us so well,” Lee snapped, “considering you only met me two minutes ago, and you haven’t met anyone else.”

  “I hear you complaining about my opinions, Captain, but I don’t hear you disagreeing.” Freya lowered the phone, stood, and fixed a level gaze on him. “But perhaps I missed a meeting somewhere. Would you care to detail for me your history of strident advocacy for granting Sharon Valerii the freedom that your father has deprived her of?” She waited a moment and then said, “Anytime, Captain. Dazzle me with your track record.”

  Lee said nothing, but merely glowered at her. Nodding in apparent satisfaction, Freya sat once more and turned her attention back to Sharon, who was intrigued by this point. “Who are you again?”

  “Freya Gunnerson,” she said with no trace of impatience, as if she were accustomed to having people repeatedly ask her who she was. “I told you: If you desire my services, then I’m your attorney.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  Freya shrugged. “Then I leave. It’s as simple as that. But before I do, I would like to ask you one question: Why would you be opposed to having someone on your side?”

  “What ‘side’ is that?”

  “The side that believes you should be allowed to live your life as you see fit,” Freya said, pouncing on the question like a lion on a deer. “The side that believes your child shouldn’t have to be born imprisoned. And that’s another thing, while I’m at it. The constitution of the Colonies clearly states that anyone who is born on a particular colony becomes a citizen of that colony, with that citizenship then extended back to the mother.”

  “The Colonies were destroyed,” Lee Adama spoke up, and added with a glance at Sharon, “by her kind.”

  “They may have been destroyed in fact, but they continue in spirit, as the ongoing existence of the Quorum of Twelve certainly indicates,” Freya replied without hesitation. “I don’t see the Quorum voting to dissolve itself simply because the worlds upon which they settled were depopulated by the Cylons. As long as the Quorum exists, the spirit of the constitution exists. Which means when the child is born, it becomes a citizen, with the full rights that any citizen has. And the child’s mother will have those same rights, so all the nice discussions about whether Sharon Valerii is human or not human and whether she deserves the rights of a human… they all become moot.”

  “You’re saying you think I have rights?” asked Sharon.

  “I’m saying your incarceration
here is a war crime. I’m saying they don’t have one damned good reason not to let you walk out of here. That the longer you remain here, the better civil suit you have against them for wrongful imprisonment. You’ve done nothing to deserve this, nothing to warrant this sort of treatment. And if you allow me to, I’m going to make sure everyone knows it, and that you are accorded your full rights under the law.”

  “But… what if…” She looked nervously at Lee and then back to Freya. “But what if you make that argument about my baby and they just take that as an excuse to kill it, like they tried to before.”

  Freya shook her head and there was a satisfied smirk on her face. “They wouldn’t dare. My understanding through my sources is that your baby’s blood performed the miraculous healing of the president. What if she relapses? What if someone else becomes drastically ill? How would Lee Adama feel about it if… oh, I don’t know… Kara Thrace, one of his top pilots, suddenly discovered she had breast cancer?”

  “You leave her the frak out of this,” Lee snapped.

  Freya’s smirk grew wider. Clearly she was pleased that she had gotten under Lee’s skin so quickly. Sharon felt badly for Lee’s discomfort… and suddenly wondered why she did. After all, he was out there and she was in here. He was allied with those who wanted to keep Sharon locked up forever. When the soldiers had come to try and abort her pregnancy, it had been Helo who stood in their way, not Lee Adama. He is not your friend…

  She found herself looking at Freya with new eyes. “The point is,” the lawyer was continuing, “they don’t dare do anything to your baby now. They might need it for something. But if you have any interest in making sure that your child is something other than a lab rat…”

  Sharon put up a hand, her mind racing, and Freya immediately lapsed into silence. “What’s in this for you?” she asked.

  Freya laughed softly. “People keep asking me that. Lieutenant… sometimes people just do things because they feel it’s the right thing to do. I think you knew that, once upon a time. It could be that you’ve simply forgotten that. I wouldn’t blame you, considering everything you’ve been put through.”

  “Everything she’s been put through?” Lee seemed astounded. “How about everything she’s put everyone else through?”

  “My understanding, Captain, is that you’re here to observe the proceedings, not contribute,” Freya reminded him. “If you would kindly adhere to what’s expected of you, this would all go much faster and much more smoothly.” When Lee didn’t reply, she tilted her head as if that settled it and once again returned her attention to Sharon. “In any event, Lieutenant… believe it or not, I’m just doing this because I feel it’s right.”

  “I’m not entirely sure I believe you,” Sharon said.

  “You don’t have to. I’m perfectly happy to let my actions prove my worth.”

  “And what would those actions be? What’s the best-case scenario?”

  “The best-case scenario,” Freya said, looking pleased to be discussing the specifics of the case, “is that they throw open the door and you walk out.”

  Sharon ignored the amused snort from Lee. “If they do that… I’m a dead woman walking,” Sharon said, unaware that she was saying aloud what had been going through Adama’s mind earlier. “You’ll be able to measure my life expectancy in microns.”

  “Not necessarily,” Freya told her. “The residents of the Bifrost, where I live, would offer you sanctuary.”

  “I should have known,” Lee said with a roll of his eyes. “Religious extremists.”

  “I can’t say I appreciate the slander of my people or my beliefs.”

  Sharon looked from one to the other in puzzlement. “Extremists? What is he—?”

  Freya was about to respond, but Lee did it for her. “They don’t believe what everyone else believes,” he called to Sharon loudly enough so that his voice carried over the phone. “They don’t even believe in the gods. In the Lords of Kobol.”

  “Neither do I,” Sharon said.

  Lee blinked in surprise. For a moment, it was as if he’d forgotten he was staring into the face of the enemy. “You don’t?”

  “Cylons believe in one god, Lee. Not many.”

  “You’re kidding. Why?”

  “I don’t think this is truly the time for a deep theological discussion,” Freya interrupted. “You have to understand, Lieutenant… may I call you Sharon …?” When Sharon nodded, she went on, “You have to understand that people such as Captain Adama tend to see things in extremes. Either you’re with him or against him. There’s not much tolerance for simple differing opinions. We are not extremists. We simply believe other than what Captain Adama and his friends believe…”

  “My ‘friends’ in that instance being almost everyone else in the Colonies,” Lee said.

  “That’s as may be. But we’re not extremists. And since we’ve historically been in the minority, we tend to be more accepting of other minorities. We have a live-and-let-live approach. I assure you, you would be safe from harm in the Bifrost. You and your child would be allowed to live free, as the gods … or god,” she included with a nod of her head toward Sharon, “intended you to.”

  “I… I don’t know,” Sharon said uncertainly.

  “I think you do know,” Freya replied. She appeared sympathetic, but there was a look of steel in her eye. “I think you already realize that I’m your first, best chance for getting out of here. The difficult thing for you,” she added sympathetically, “is letting go of your fading hopes that any of your old ties to these… individuals… are going to do you any good. They are your past, Sharon. I’m your future. Are you going to live in your past… or embrace your future?”

  “Can…” Sharon hesitated, glancing once more at Lee, and then said, “Can I have some time to think it over?”

  “Of course,” said Freya. She stood and said, “Take all the time you want. I mean… it’s not as if you’re going anywhere.”

  With that, she headed out, Lee Adama right behind her. He cast a glimpse at Sharon over his shoulder, but she didn’t meet his eye. Instead she was staring off into space, lost in thought, with her hand unconsciously rubbing her belly.

  CHAPTER

  11

  Laura feels at peace, for the first time in a long time. She feels at peace because there is no question in her mind this time. The line between fantasy and reality is clearly demarcated. She has no doubt that she is dreaming now. With that knowledge brings peace of a kind. The recent press conference where figments of her innermost fears were strolling around in the objective light of day was a bit much for her. But this… this is definitely within her comfort level.

  Yet what she is experiencing is simultaneously comforting and disconcerting.

  She hears a heartbeat. It is steady and rhythmic, as a heartbeat should be. It’s difficult for her to place where it’s originating from, because everything around her is so dark. She strains to find a light source, but none is forthcoming. She tries to hold her hands up in front of her face, but she’s having trouble determining whether she’s actually moving them or not. She doesn’t quite understand why. It’s as if her mind is completely disconnected from her body. Still, she’s not upset over the lack of light. She’s not upset about anything. Instead she feels completely calm and content. Although all her problems are still present in her mind, she nevertheless feels as if she hasn’t a care in the world. She is calmer than at any other time that she can recall, and not only that, but she feels totally protected, as if nothing out in the world can possibly hurt her while she floats blissfully in…

  Oh… you have to be kidding…

  The words echo in her mind and she tries to say them aloud, but her mouth won’t form the words.

  This can’t be happening…

  Seized with a determination to shake off a dream that had abruptly become far too strange for her to continue, she starts twisting about violently. She is suddenly relieved that she can’t see her own body since she isn’t sure s
he could tolerate the bizarreness of what she is now certain she will experience. She feels completely constricted, even though there are no ropes or any other sort of bonds around her.

  Then the environment in which she is floating begins to respond to her struggles. There is trembling and violent vibration, and she perceives that there are walls surrounding her, starting to close in, and pushing her down, down through the liquid that is enveloping her…

  Too weird… too weird… make it stop, gods, please…

  But as much as she is repulsed by the reality of what is happening to her, or at least what she thinks is happening to her, there is nothing that she can do to prevent it. She tries to get a sense of herself within the context of the dream, but she cannot. She doesn’t know whether this is something that is supposed to be happening to her… or to someone else.

  She is shoved forward, the walls contracting around her, forcing her against her will. She seeks purchase and finds none. She continues to struggle but it means nothing. She is leaving the warmth behind, and suddenly coldness strikes her in the face. Laura opens her mouth, but nothing except a pathetic mewl escapes her lips.

  “Her eyes are open,” says a voice, and it’s a terribly familiar one.

  The world is shifting at odd angles around her, and she is looking up into the familiar face of Gains Baltar. She recognizes him even though he is wearing a surgical mask over the lower half of his face. “Amazing. It’s like she’s looking right at me.”

  “It’s a girl,” the voice of Sharon Valerii moans, “I knew it would be a girl… God… she’s covered in blood.”

  “We’ll clean her off,” says Baltar. “Nurse. Come here.” He turns and, holding Laura carefully in his blood-covered hands, he extends her to the waiting figure of a Cylon soldier, all gleaming metal and a single, glowing red eye. Laura screams even louder, and it’s still emerging as a babyish cry.