03 - Sagittarius is Bleeding (30 page)

“What do we do now?” muttered Helo out the side of his mouth.

“For starters, we don’t move.” She paused and then said, in as authoritative
a tone as she could muster, “This is military business!”

“And this is me not caring very much,” said the large man. The business end
of the gun never wavered. “I assume you have weapons on you. Now would be the
time to produce them very slowly and lay them down equally slowly on the floor.”

Their guns were hanging on the backs of their belts, covered by their
jackets. Neither Helo nor Starbuck had been armed in the expectation that they
would have to shoot Boxey or something like that. It was simply standard
operating procedure for them to go armed into any situation that was not merely
a social one. One never knew when one was going to stumble over a known Cylon
operative, and on such occasions, Adama never wanted his people caught
unprepared.

But just because they had weapons didn’t mean it was always a good idea to
use them. And somehow the prospect of getting into a firefight with a group of
civilians didn’t seem like the wisest course of action. Although it had been
some time ago, feelings in the fleet were still raw over the notorious shooting
incident during the period when Tigh had declared martial law. The last thing
they needed to do was exacerbate matters by having anything resembling a repeat
of the incident, even though the circumstances were extremely different.

Helo and Starbuck exchanged looks and then—slowly, as instructed—they reached
out and removed their respective weapons. “You’re making a mistake,” Helo said
evenly.

The big man gestured for the men on either side of him to approach and take
the extended guns. “Not as big a mistake as you would have made if you’d taken a
shot at any of my people.”

“One of your ‘people’ might not be a person at all,” Kara informed him,
making no attempt to keep the annoyance from her voice. “That’s why we’re here.
You may have a Cylon infiltrator.”

“And would he be the one who stole our most precious possession?”

The angry question puzzled Kara. “What are you talking about?”

He took a step toward her and seemed to loom even larger than he had before.
“Don’t play games with me. Where is it?”

“Where… is what?”

“The Edda. I looked in the sanctum after you and your associate ran out of
there and it was gone. Our holy book, missing. What did you do with it?”

“Us? Nothing! Boxey must have taken it.”

“The boy?” growled the big man. “You would blame something like this on the
boy? Why would he do such a thing?”

“Because we think he may be a Cylon, and he’s trying to distract us or maybe just stir things up. Set us against each other.”

He barked a skeptical laugh. “I find that… doubtful.”

“She’s telling the truth,” Helo said.

“And I’m supposed to just take her word for it?” He looked hard at them. “The
word of a military that’s more interested in guarding its secrets than the
balance of humanity. You keep information from us until someone else finds out
about it, at which point you reluctantly admit it. You cause disharmony and
discord.”

Not at all intimidated by the fact that he could likely break her in half,
Kara snapped back, “We’ve saved this fleet more times than I can count. When the
Cylons come swooping down on us, you’re safe and snug here second-guessing
everything we do while it’s my ass out in a Viper that’s fighting to keep us
alive for another day. And that’s what we’re trying to do now, and if you don’t
like it, then frak you, so get the frak out of my face, you got that?”

He glared at her, and then—to her surprise—the look he was giving her melted
ever so slightly into amusement. He took a step back. “Yes, ma’am,” he said
coolly, and then turned to his people. “Take them to a private room. Search them
thoroughly. See if they have the Edda on them. Find Boxey. I very much doubt
their claims that he’s a Cylon operative, but we should at least talk to him.”

“He went up there,” Helo said, pointing overhead. “If you’ve got someone
small and skinny, you may want to send them up there, because if he took your
Edda thing, he could stash it anywhere in there.”

“I don’t need your advice, thank you,” said the big man. Then he paused and
muttered to his nearest lieutenant, “Do as he says. Find someone. Now.” The
lieutenant nodded and went off as the big man turned his attention back to Helo and Starbuck. “I am Wolf Gunnerson.
As I said, this is my ship. You will be my guests here until we get matters
sorted out and the Edda is recovered.”

“You’ll search us and find we don’t have it,” Kara said.

“You might have hidden it somewhere. You might have an accomplice somewhere
in this ship. I try never to underestimate the ability of the military to be
deceitful.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Starbuck said sourly. “Look, Mr.
Gunnerson, there’s something here you have to understand…”

“You’re here on military business.”

“That’s right. And you’re interfering with it. That is not going to be looked
upon favorably by my CO or the president. Furthermore you’re holding us against
our will. That’s going to be viewed by some as a hostage situation. The action
of terrorists. I don’t think you really want that. I don’t think you want a
squad of heavily armed marines crashing in here.”

Wolf leaned in toward her again. His breath alone was powerful enough to rock
her back on her feet. “And I think that you don’t have the slightest idea of
what I want. A hostage situation? Fine. So be it. I have no problem with that.
You show up here, you’ve got concealed weapons, you threaten a boy and try to
drag him back to your ship against his will, tossing around accusations that
he’s a machine without the slightest shred of proof, and oh, by the way, our
sacred book vanishes shortly after you arrive and you’re seen coming out of our
sanctum. And
you
accuse
me
of terrorist activities?”

“Admiral Adama is going to want us back, with the boy,” Helo said.

“You throw that name around as if it’s supposed to intimidate me. If he wants
you back, I’ll be more than happy to throw you out an airlock and you can walk
back to
Galactica.
How does that sound?” When Helo made no answer, Wolf Gunnerson made a slight gesture
with his head, signaling his men. They came in from all sides and took Starbuck
and Helo firmly by the wrists and arms. “Be careful, men. They’re colonial
warriors. They likely bruise easily.”

“You’re going to regret this!” Starbuck called defiantly as they were led
away.

“I really don’t think so,” replied Wolf, who really didn’t.

He stood there and watched them go. And then, after a long moment, a door to
the side opened and a figure emerged. “I told you that was exactly the attitude
you could expect from them.”

“Indeed you did. It’s fortunate you happened to be by, Councilman.”

Tom Zarek nodded thoughtfully and said, “She’s right about one thing, though.
Adama isn’t going to take this well at all. He’s going to want his people back,
and he could make it very difficult for you if you refuse to cooperate.”

“I’m sure he could. And I could make things very difficult for him.”

“He has the
Galactica,
Wolf. Face facts: You can’t possibly go up
against him. Meantime your bid to be part of the Quorum of Twelve could be
seriously hurt by this.”

“I have no trouble with being both feared in my wrath… and admired in my
generosity.”

Zarek eyed him suspiciously. “Meaning…?”

“Meaning the day is young.” And he clapped Zarek on the back in a manner that
was gentle for him and, even so, nearly dislocated Zarek’s shoulder. “And I am
thirsty Let’s quench that thirst together and we’ll wait for matters to play out
to our advantage.”

“Animals,” said Freya Gunnerson.

From within her enclosure, Sharon Valerii looked in confusion at her
attorney. Pressing the phone tighter against her ear, she said, “What about
animals?”

“Adama suggested it to me… although he didn’t realize that’s what he was
doing,” Freya said smugly. “Talking about the Cylons trying to slaughter us like
animals. His whole argument to keep you cooped up in here, despite the fact that
you’ve committed no crime, is that you’re not human. But there’s plenty of case
law on the books about animal rights.”

“But… I’m not an animal…”

“Yes, you are, in the sense that I am and Adama is as well. All humans are
part of the animal kingdom. He keeps calling you a machine, but there’s not a
shred of proof that you are. Certainly no more so than any human who’s operating
with an artificial heart or a replacement knee. There’s every proof, however,
that you’re an animal, and under our law, animals have rights.”

“Animals get put in cages all the time. In zoos…”

“Yes, and there were laws to guard their best interests even then.
Safeguards.”

“I don’t understand where you’re going with this.”

“It’s very simple, Sharon. We go to precedents. That’s how the law works.”
Freya’s voice was becoming more excited, more enthused, as she contemplated what
was to come. “We build case law to show that even the humblest zoo creature has
more rights, has more protection under the law, than you. We—”

“Who do we do this with?”

Freya blinked. She seemed rather surprised that Sharon would interrupt her.
“What do you mean?”

“I mean, who do we do this with? I don’t know if you noticed, Freya, but the
legal system as we know it has fallen apart somewhat.” She ticked off options on
her fingers. “There’s Adama. There’s the president. There’s the Quorum. My
understanding is that there’s a few freelance mediators going around who are
overseeing simple disputes. But people are just scrambling to survive. There’s
no full judicial system that I know of.”

“Not at the moment.”

“Moments are all I have,” Sharon said fiercely, so fiercely that it startled
Freya. “Don’t you get that? Every day I wake up might be my last if Adama or the
president decides I’m too great a risk. I don’t have the option of looking at
the big picture.”

“And that’s what I’m trying to change.”

“Why? I still don’t understand.”

“Because,” Freya said, “it’s the right thing to do!”

“And do you think they’ll give a damn?” Sharon started to walk around, her
body giving vent to her frustration. Within moments she’d moved beyond the
distance that the phone cord would allow and the receiver flew out of her hand.
She grabbed for it and it thudded against the side of her cell. Sharon started
to reach for it, and then let out an anguished cry of fury. “You’re going to file my appeal with the same people who stuck me in here? You must
be crazy! And I must be crazy for listening to you! You know they’re going to
reject any argument you make.”

“I’m just trying to get you what you want,” Freya assured her.

Her voice came over the phone receiver, and Sharon could hear it even though
it wasn’t to her ear. And Sharon was speaking so loudly that Freya had no
trouble hearing her.

“What I want?” She thumped her chest. “You don’t know what I want! You have
no frakking clue!”

“Freedom for yourself! Freedom for your child!”

“I’m not going to get freedom!
I’m a
Cylon!
I’m the frakking
enemy!
They’re never going to just let me go! I don’t get to live happily
ever after with Helo and my baby, and we set up a nice family. You think I don’t
know that? You think I don’t see what’s coming? The only reason I’m alive is
because
Galactica
needs me to keep saving their ass. The only reason my
baby is alive is because they needed it to save Roslin’s life. If they ever make
it to Earth and find safe harbor, you know what the first thing they’re gonna do
is? Put a
bullet
in my
frakking brain
and turn my baby into a lab
rat! If you ever convince them that they can’t treat me the way they currently
do, that’s when I die. And they’ll do it without fanfare, and without a thought,
and without you. And what’ll you do after I’m dead, huh? File a protest? Wag your
finger and say ‘Shame on you'? What do I want? What I want is, just once before
I die, to walk around where there’s some flowers and trees and dance on some
grass in my bare feet, just for a little while. For a couple frakking hours.
Then I’ll be happy.”

She looked as if she wanted to shout even more, but exhaustion overwhelmed
her. She sagged against the side of the cell and then onto her bed. She put her
hand on her stomach and just sat there, shaking her head.

“Sharon,” said the frustrated Freya, “pick the phone back up. Please. Pick it
up and put it to your ear.”

Sharon stared at the receiver from which Freya’s voice was emerging. Then she
picked up the phone but, rather than listening to it, she spoke softly, in a
voice that was measured and tired but had an undercurrent of strength to it.
“You know what I think?”

“Sharon, you need to listen to me—”

“I think,” Sharon continued as if she hadn’t spoken, “that you just wanna
frak with people. With me. With Adama. With the president. The whole council.
You just wanna use me to stir things up. I don’t know why. I also don’t care
very much. Maybe something will come up to make me care but, right now… I
don’t.”

With that, she turned and hung the phone up, cutting off Freya’s voice as she
continued to protest.

Freya thumped with her open palm on the outside of the cell, but Sharon
ignored her. Then there was the heavy noise made by the outside door that led
into the cell area, and Freya glanced over. She was not remotely surprised when
Adama strode in.

She was surprised, however, when two colonial marines followed him in and
pointed their weapons straight at her.

Adama barely kept his cold fury in check as he stared at Freya Gunnerson. His
jaw was so clenched that it was difficult at first for him to utter words. “I’ve
just been informed,” he said without preamble, “that two of my people are being
held on the
Bifrost.
On your father’s vessel.”