HunTrib Chpt 7

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=Hunted Tribes=
==Chapter 7==
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“I don’t like politics and in general I don’t like politicians either, I only ended up President in the first place because the forty-two people higher up in the administration than me all died in the Cylon Attack on the Colonies. I wasn’t even all that happy to have ended up in a position as minor as Secretary of Education for that matter, I enjoyed teaching I hated yelling at teachers over a negotiating table. Despite all this I think I’ve done a good job and the opinion polls seem to agree, perhaps the secret to good government is simply preventing anyone who desperately wants to be in charge from ever being so?”President Laura Roslin – 3048CE
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===Preparations for Colonization with reservations===
Colonial One – New Circe Orbit – 3045 CE
Laura Roslin was becoming increasingly angry and exasperated with the Quorum who were now yelling at each other over the table, if she could only march in a few marines everything would go so much smoother she decided. Oh to be a tyrant she thought wistfully with an inner sigh as Robin Wenutu the representative for Canceron screamed at Sarah Porter from Gemenon. ‘Enough!’ Roslin yelled at them all. ‘Sit down’ she ordered in the tone of voice people jokingly referred to as indicating she was in a mood to space someone. ‘Marshall you wanted to say something?’ she asked the representative for Virgon.
Marshall Bagot looked around. ‘I find myself in the position of not being effected one way or another in this dispute for I hope I can act as a voice of moderation here’ he said. ‘The basic argument is how we divide up the territory on New Circe being ceded to us’ he noted, ‘We all now agree that the city we build as our capital in the center of the territory will exist as a Federal District not belonging to any one Colony but all of us together but as regards the surrounding land we are at an impasse’ he said.
‘The land outside the capital should be divided equally into twelve sections one each for every Colony’ Robin Wenutu stated. ‘It's the only fair and equitable way’ she said.
‘If you added the number of people in the fleet from Canceron, Leonis and Aquaria combined then you only just match the Gemonese on their own, how is that a fair distribution of land?’ Sarah Porter responded. ‘Clearly the territory should be divided according to the number of people who it will be supporting’ she said. ‘Caprica and Gemenon should get the largest plots by far’ she declared.
‘As I said the way the numbers work out from either position Virgon still gets around a twelfth of the land so I don't have a dog in this fight’ Bagot interjected, ‘but I will point out that demographics are bound to chance over time and what do we do in a hundred years if the people from Leonis for example happen to experience a population explosion?’ he asked. ‘Do we then take some land away from the Capricans or Gemonese to give to them?’
‘How likely is that to happen?’ Wenutu asked.
‘Given that Leonis wasn't populated by luddite religious nuts more likely than you think’ the representative for that Colony’s people muttered. ‘My people are far more likely to adopt the Iron Womb technology we've all been offered than people from certain other colonies’ he said.
‘That's an offense against the Gods’ Wenutu declared, earning a smirk in response.
‘And then we should also consider what happens if a plague hits us and devastates one group disproportionately’ Bagot noted looking directly at Tom Zarek the member for Sagitaron. ‘Your people are less likely to accept antibiotics, antivirals or even vaccinations so should we be ready to take land from you when you start dying en-masse?’ he asked rhetorically.
Zarek frowned. ‘I can see your point Marshall’ he conceded. ‘The decisions we make today will have long-lasting ramifications and we need to consider the future not just the present.’
‘Beyond land there is also the issue of properly re-establishing the People’s Council as the lower house of the legislature’ Robin Wenutu noted.
‘Where the seats are allocated proportionally to population giving the Gemenese for example more of a say in government’ Sarah Porter for Canceron responded knowingly.
‘It's called democracy, perhaps you've heard of it’ Wenutu replied sarcastically.
‘It's the implications of tyranny of the majority I take issue with’ Porter told her. ‘Well abortion is illegal like the Gemenese always wanted, have you got plans to foist any other religious dogma into law?’ she asked.
‘The Articles of Colonization protect the rights of the individual and always will’ Roslin stated.
‘Abortion is banned by Presidential Decree despite the courts always maintaining that it was a protected right under the Articles’ Zarek responded. ‘You set the precedent there Laura’ he said with that smug expression he knew she hated.
‘That was necessary given that we needed to ensure the continued survival of the human race Tom’ Roslin replied. ‘Now that circumstances are different the ban on abortion might not remain in force for very long’ she added.
Robin Wenutu looked shocked. ‘This is an outrage!’ she exclaimed.
‘I'm pro-choice, always have been, always said so openly’ Roslin reminded her. ‘There are trillions more human beings in the galaxy than we ever thought so racial extinction is looking a lot less likely than it did a few months ago’ she said. ‘That lifts a few burdens on us’ she said, and me in particular.’
Wenutu glared at her. ‘If you'd have said this before the election...’
‘I lost at least half of the fundamentalist religious vote when people found out that the population of New Circe were genetically engineered, don't overstate the importance of your voting block or how much it contributed to me beating Gaius Baltar’ Roslin interrupted. ‘He was running on an explicitly pro-choice platform himself remember’ she said. ‘Now as regards dividing up the land I'm going to remind you that there are less than fifty-thousand of us in total and we are going to be living on a planet with over fifteen times that many people and with a population growing faster than ours in percentage terms’ she reminded them. ‘If we continue to divide ourselves then culturally we are going to become extinct in a few years.’
‘What do you mean?’ Porter asked.
‘Fifty thousand Colonials as a monolithic group might stand a chance of retaining their identity in a sea of Wolverines but we'll have to be Colonials first and Caprican, Tauron or Gemenese second’ Roslin told them. ‘Despite the arguments and disagreements we have far more common with each other than any of us do with the people of New Circe’ she said. ‘We need to embrace our similarities and put aside our differences if we believe at all that our culture deserves to survive at all’ she continued. ‘Unless you want your great-grandchildren to all be two-metre tall genetically-engineered monotheists then we need to change course, right here, right now, today’ she insisted.
The Quorum of Twelve all looked at her in silence. ‘She's right’ Zarek said eventually, ‘and you all know how much it pains me to say those words’ he added with a smile causing a few to chuckle in response. ‘Maybe we need to start thinking of ourselves as say Sagitaron-Colonial, or Caprican-Colonial’ he suggested.
‘Works for me’ Roslin told him. ‘Now the Quorum gets to make the call here but I strongly advise that we don't divide up the land and we simply live on it together side by side’ she said. ‘Not only will it stop all the bickering about how to divide it up it'll also send a message about how we want to live and how we want to survive as a culture.’
‘But how do we deal with the legal ramifications?’ Marshall Bagot asked. ‘Each colony has different laws and some are radically different’ he noted.
‘Oh well I guess the lawyers can argue that out because I'm not getting involved in that minefield, politics is bad enough’ Roslin replied.
‘That could take years’ Bagot pointed out.
‘And on the plus side think of how much more smoothly our society will function with all the lawyers too busy arguing arcane legal points to be organising frivolous lawsuits instead’ Roslin joked.
Tom Zarek couldn't help but laugh. ‘It could be a Golden Age’ he agreed. His own experiences with lawyers generally involved prosecutors trying to get him incarcerated for life or inept defence attorneys.
‘I'll leave you to think about it’ Roslin told the Quorum, getting up from her chair. ‘I have a meeting arranged with Commander Adama on the Pegasus’ she said. ‘Poor boy feels the need to inform me of every little thing’ she told them, smiling.
‘Of course it is reassuring that the Senior Military Officer present within the fleet has never locked up the President or introduced martial law like his father and Colonel Tigh did’ Zarek felt the need to comment.
‘Yes, in fact the young Commander has always shown absolute loyalty to the Articles of Colonization’ Roslin replied, ‘once drawing his sidearm in their defence in this very room and pointing it at Colonel Tigh when he came to arrest me’ she continued. ‘We should hope all our Officers took their oath of allegiance so seriously that they placed it before obedience to their superior officers and even their loyalty to their own family’ she said.
‘So you don’t think of it as loyalty to you yourself?’ Zarek asked knowingly.
‘He's been a thorn in my side on more than one occasion too Tom’ Roslin replied. ‘I have full confidence in Lee Adama to protect this fleet and its people from all enemies those without and within’ she said. ‘If I didn't I would never have approved the mission currently being undertaken by Admiral Adama.’
‘Well I'm sure you know best’ Zarek responded doubtfully.
‘Not necessarily best but certainly better than some’ Roslin replied coldly, looking him straight in the eyes. Zarek was the enemy within just as much as any remaining Cylon infiltrators were as far as she was concerned and she was gratified that Lee Adama thought so too.
A Raptor sent over from Pegasus collected her from Colonial One and transported her to the huge battlestar that now warded over the fleet alone, well it and the SLDF Battleship orbiting nearby. Twice the mass of Galactica the far more modern Mercury Class ship always seemed a little too shiny, a little too impersonal for Roslin. Thicker armour, more powerful weapons and more viper squadrons didn't make up for the ship's lack of character as she saw it.
At least the Commander let her get away without a formal reception with the ships company in dress uniform as he had done the first time she arrived on Pegasus shortly after his fathers departure a week ago. She and Tory were still met by one of the ships senior officers and a pair of marines who escorted them to the Commanders quarters.
A marine opened the door for her and after entering Lee Adama pulled out a chair for her. Admiral Cains former quarters were much more spacious that those Admiral Adama had on the other battlestar but they were less homely too Roslin decided. Having these chats with the boys father on Galactica always had a more relaxed feel to them even when they were mad at each other.
‘Wine?’ Roslin queried in surprise as Lee produced a bottle with a label on it written in English.
‘I don't know how they managed to produce a grape that would grow in the climate down there but it's really not too bad’ Lee told her. ‘May I pour you a glass Madam President?’ he asked. ‘Tory?’ he added to her assistant.
‘I'll try some’ Roslin replied, ‘I'm surprised at the offer’ she admitted.
‘I got the impression you thought I had been too formal when you were here before’ Lee told her. ‘If you were a man I'd have broken out the hard liquor instead of the wine’ he said.
‘Well I wouldn't have said no to some Ambrosia but the wine is welcome’ Roslin replied. ‘A half glass though, it wouldn't be seemly for me to leave here swaying from side to side’ she said.
‘I'll take just a half-glass too’ Tory requested, getting out her notebook in case she needed to record anything.
‘If you decide on the other half later I'll have the ship rocked so nobody notices you swaying’ Lee told Roslin with a smile. ‘How did your meeting with the Lord Protector go yesterday?’ he asked.
‘She introduced me to a game where you throw little arrows at a round board, she has one in her office’ Roslin replied. ‘She said that sometimes she puts photographs of members of the Parliament on it when they're annoying her’ the President continued. ‘It's a fantastic idea, I’m already trying to find pictures of half the Quorum.’ she joked.
‘I won't minute that’ Tory decided, laughing as the Commander handed her a glass of wine.
‘So how are you and Admiral Franks getting along?’ Roslin asked. ‘Is there a rapport developing?’
Lee nodded. ‘It impacts on my schedule having to attend all the meetings my father used to, but I must admit that the more time I spend with Franks the more I like him’ he said.
‘It's important that we maintain and strengthen our military as well as our political ties with our hosts Commander’ Roslin told him, taking a sip from the glass he had handed her. It really wasn't too bad at all she thought, a little sweeter than she would have liked ideally but good nonetheless.
‘My father made that perfectly clear before he left’ Lee replied. ‘You know they'd fight for us’ he said with certainty, ‘they think we're as weird as we think they are, and I'm not certain I'll ever understand how their society manages to function, but the moment they offered to help defend the fleet from the Cylons that was it’ he said. ‘Their military is pledged to fight and die for our civilians just as much as they would for their own and I believe they would.’
‘People of their word’ Roslin responded, raising her glass in a salute to the concept.
‘As long as we are, Madam President’ Lee noted seriously. ‘So is there any kind of news as to when we can start building ourselves a new city?’ he asked. ‘Admiral Franks told me that they have logging crews, civil engineers and construction machinery ready to assist, as well as thousands of offers of volunteers to help put up schools and hospitals.’
Roslin took another sip of her wine. ‘It's the planet of the democratic, ideologically liberal, freedom-loving, do-gooder, honor-bound, militaristic weapons-enthusiasts’ she said, rolling her eyes. ‘Total loons the lot of them’ she opined.
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===Rebuilding Fighter Fleets of the Colonial Fleet===
Battlestar Galactica – Colonial Fleet – 3045 CEE
Nine days into the mission, hundreds of light-years from New Circe and things were finally setting down into a routine. Everyone now knew to get out of the way when the thunderous sound of two dozen boots hitting the deck simultaneously heralded a platoon of SLDF Infantry on their morning run around the ship, Wing-Commander Defoe had learned the hard way why nobody in a Colonial Uniform ever ordered the scrambled eggs for breakfast in the ships mess hall (apparently the powered stuff had been in storage since the First Cylon War) and Kara Thrace unusually found herself both totally lost for words and bright red with embarrassment when Saul Tigh of all people found her screwing Samuel Anders on the new Pyramid Court after a late-night “Practice Session” before the first game of the season.
Unaware of why his CAG was currently unable to look his XO in the face Adama guessed they had simply had one of their routine arguments with Tigh winning the latest round and he ignored it as he addressed the viper pilots in the briefing room. ‘We're not going to be jumping around for twelve hours’ he told them, ‘that gives us an opportunity to run some live-fire exercises with the new lasers and to do some more aggressor squadron work with the Wolverines’ he said.
‘Raptors are going to deploy some target drones for you to shoot up’ Thrace told them. ‘I want you all to be comfortable with your new weaponry before we ever have to use them for real’ she continued. ‘I also want you to fly your guts out when you come up against those big frakkers later on today’ she said. ‘The sharper we can make them, the more they know about how to fly against a bird as manoeuvrable as ours, the better they'll handle themselves against the Raiders’ she said. ‘We'll also be running an experimental formation later on, twelve Kirghiz plus ten Vipers versus the other thirty Vipers.’
‘So fighters escorting fighters?’ Hotdog queried.
‘Right first time, you win a cookie’ Starbuck told him. ‘During the closing stage of the fight we expect the PPCs and Pulse Lasers on the Wolvie fighters to swat down enemy aircraft like crazy at long range but once you get tangled together it's not so easy for a hundred tons of Kirghiz to keep up’ she said. ‘They've got what they call LB-X Autocannon firing cluster rounds, and any Raiders that get in front of one are totally frakked, but the Cylons are soon going to learn to keep the frak away from that shitstorm.’ she stated.
‘Are they using the same lasers as us?’ Lieutenant Clellan asked. He had forty confirmed kills and was generally considered one of the top viper-jocks on Galactica.
‘No, we're carrying what they call a Medium Laser, one of them and stripped down slightly because a Viper can't generate enough power to make it work to its full potential.’ Starbuck replied. ‘The Kirghiz is carrying two Large Pulse Lasers with more range and twice the firepower apiece’ she told them, ‘and the two Long-Range PPCs go even further and put out better than another fifty-percent of pain on top of that’ she continued. ‘They'll turn a Raider to vapor, I shit you not’ she declared.
Hotdog leaned forward in his chair. ‘How do their autocannons stack up with our KEW's’ he asked.
‘If we're talking 30 millimetre like ours they've got two kinds’ Starbuck told him, ‘the LB-X has maybe half our rate of fire but can shoot those cluster rounds as well as standard loads’ she began. ‘Their Ultra Autocannon in the same caliber has our rate of fire but can't shoot the cluster ammo and is less reliable, it jams much more often’ she told them. ‘Both types have an edge on us in muzzle velocity, they're not shooting from a ten ton airframe so recoil and vibration is less of a problem’ she noted.
‘Our engineers and theirs are designing a new autocannon that borrows from both designs and the feed system from our point-defence guns as well’ Adama chipped in. ‘It'll be a fifty-millimetre with our reliability and rate of fire, their muzzle-velocity and can still fire the cluster rounds’ he said. ‘You won't be seeing it on a Viper but you could hang a pair on a Kirghiz or a Raptor without rattling it apart... I'm told.’
‘I guess the Raptor crews were complaining we got a new toy to play with and they didn't’ Kat said loudly from where she was seated at the back. ‘You wait until the first one of those guys makes ace, we won't hear the last of it’ she joked to laughter from the other pilots.
‘If you fired two of those things full-auto into a Raider Squadron packed together they could make ace with the first salvo’ Hotdog observed. ‘That's not aerial combat, that's spraying the frakking hose of death over the enemy’ he exclaimed.
‘And now it's already got a nickname’ Starbuck responded. ‘The Fifty-Millimetre HOD’ she declared, ‘nice one Hotdog.’
‘Hey, if any of you need a new call-sign let me know’ Hotdog responded to the CAG's praise with a grin.
Admiral Adama turned to Starbuck. ‘Just make sure the camera-guns show that we took out enough Wolverines to save face’ he told her.
‘You can count on me Sir’ the CAG told him.
‘I always can’ Adama replied with certainty. ‘So are we going to see you on the Pyramid Court at the game tonight?’ he asked.
‘Hopefully less of you than I caught last night’ Tigh quipped with a smirk on his face.
In the starboard flight pod Chief Tyrol was making sure all the vipers were ready for launch, they already had the CAP out but as soon as the CAG finished talking to her pilots they were going to be launching a full squadron and he didn’t want any hitches. ‘You're certain that software glitch you found in that bird we transferred from Pegasus is purged now?’ he asked Seelix.
‘Avionics is one-hundred percent Chief’ Seelix replied confidently. ‘I also helped Jammer synchronise the guns on a couple of the new-builds’ she continued, ‘I don't think they’re doing all the last-minute checks they should be doing on The Beast when they build them’ she said. ‘Everything works, they're just not making sure it all works at the same time.’
Tyrol frowned. ‘You checked the other new-build vipers?’ he asked.
‘Yeah and Figurski and Pollux are doing the same for the squadron in the port flight pod’ Seelix replied. ‘I thought I'd better pass it on to them’ she said.
‘Good initiative’ Tyrol told her. ‘Are you bucking for promotion or something?’ he asked. ‘Gunning for my job maybe?’ he added with a smile.
‘No I'm ambitious’ Seelix replied grinning back, ‘I'm hoping to get into the pilot training program eventually’ she told him. ‘If Pegasus is going to keep churning out new Mark VIIs they'll soon need more pilots to fly them than we’ve got’ she pointed out. If they ever managed to get both battlestars up to their full complement of squadrons they would in fact need a lot more pilots than they currently had in order to fly the two hundred and eighty Vipers, the Pegasus and Galactica could potentially field between them.
‘Word of advice’ Tyrol told her, ‘you'd better start training someone else up in avionics if you ever expect me to call you, Sir, because good specialists are harder to find than throttle and joystick monkeys’ he advised.
‘Good call, Chief’ Seelix replied. ‘Cally is fraternising again’ she told him, pointing across the bay.
‘Oh for frak's sake’ Tyrol swore, stomping towards his wayward deckhand. ‘Cally you're at work’ he called out. ‘Get back to checking the welds on those laser mountings’ he ordered. ‘And as for you Sir’ he continued, looking straight at the officer in the SLDF mechwarrior uniform who had been talking to Cally, ‘if you haven't got anything constructive to do yourself I've got a coolant stain on the deck there that could be scrubbed clean’ he told him.
Cale looked at the Chief. ‘I just stopped by because I was on the way to the gym Chief’ he said.
‘Then go exercise’ Tyrol told him.
‘I'd better go’ the Wolverine Lieutenant told Cally who promptly reached up and grabbed him by the collar so she could pull his head down low enough to kiss him on the cheek before heading back towards the Viper she had been working on.
As Cale headed off Tyrol gave Cally a stern look. ‘Stop grinning about your love-life’ he told her, ‘and if I see him here again I'll report him’ he said.
‘I've been outside floating in zero gee looking over the hull and it's been less stomach churning than watching those two holding hands and talk mushy to each other’ Seelix observed loudly.
‘There is no romance on my deck’ Tyrol declared loudly. ‘There is only aircraft maintenance’ he said with finality. ‘Anyone I see loafing in any way gets to stay on after their work shift’ he announced. ‘That coolant stain over there still needs scrubbing clean and unless you want to join Cally later making the deck sparkle like new you will all develop a work ethic’ he said. ‘I'll be over on the Port Pod for the next hour and I know how much work you should have been able to get done by the time I get back so don't try and be clever’ he advised.
Seelix watched the Chief head off to the other side of the ship. ‘He's getting crankier, we need to get him laid’ she joked. ‘And no, I'm not volunteering’ she added.
‘I'm spoken for’ Cally stated happily. ‘I guess it's up to Marcie then’ she suggested, indicating the only other female deckhand present.
Marcie pulled her head out from a Viper cockpit. ‘No way’ she said. ‘Why don’t we try and set him up with one of those Wolvie girls?’ she suggested.
‘They're two meters tall and look like they could rip your spleen out through your nose’ Seelix pointed out.
‘He used to frak a cylon, anything human is a step up from that.’ Marcie responded.
‘Good point, well made’ Seelix had to concede.
Over in the medical bay Doctor Cottle narrowed his eyes at the SLDF Army Surgeon who had decided to impose himself on Galactica's Medical Bay. ‘What did he say again?’ he asked the middle-aged New Circe historian with the beard from Sundquist's Team who was acting as a translator.
The historian shuffled his feet and looked at the deck. ‘After examining the patient you treated earlier Doctor Ljungberg wondered if you still bored a hole in people's heads to let out the evil spirits when they have a headache too’ he translated again.
Cottle put down the cigarette he had been smoking. ‘And what exactly did he mean by that?’ he asked coldly.
The historian translated Cottle's words and the subsequent reply. ‘Doctor Ljungberg says the medical technology and techniques you are using are like something from the Dark Ages on Terra’ he said. ‘That's hyperbole however, your equipment and pharmaceuticals are twenty-first century or late twentieth century at worst, the dark ages were well over a thousand years before that’ he added himself. ‘It's the thirty-first century of our calendar now’ he added in case the Colonial didn't know.
‘Tell the Doctor that I've been saving lives since before he was born’ Cottle responded angrily, ‘and then tell him that if he has any specific second-opinions to make regarding the treatment or diagnosis of my patients he can go right ahead and make them, but that I'm not going to let him inject Colonial personnel with any medications I'm totally unfamiliar with and nor am I going to let him spray that plastic crap over any wounds regardless of how effective it's supposed to be at sterilising the area and speeding the healing rate until I'm certain there aren't any side-effects or possible allergic reactions’ he declared forcefully. ‘I'll be telling the Admiral this is the policy, and where medicine is concerned on this ship my word is the law’ he stated firmly.
Ljungberg took a deep breath after Cottle's words were converted to English. He put his hands behind his back and said something else in reply. ‘The Doctor says he is going to establish a clinic to treat Colonial patients and requests access to whatever you use as a local anaesthetic if you are going to prohibit him from using ours’ the historian translated.
‘What kind of clinic?’ Cottle wanted to know.
‘Laser eye surgery’ the historian explained, ‘only lostech worlds still use glasses’ he said.
‘Oh he's not doing that without my permission’ Cottle replied. ‘And until I'm sure of the technique and that he won't accidentally blind some poor son-of-a-bitch, it's not given’ he said.
The historian raised his eyebrows at Cottle's words but translated them for Ljungberg nonetheless. The New Circers talked amongst themselves for a short time until the historian turned back to Cottle. ‘Um you do know we can clone replacement organs right?’ he asked. ‘Or even put in cybernetic prosthetics in some cases if necessary’ he continued. ‘Eyes, kidneys, limbs...’ he said before trailing off. ‘You might want to think about a new set of lungs at some point’ he suggested, indicating the stubbed out remains of Cottle's cigarette.
‘So where do you think he keeps the leeches?’ Doctor Ljungberg asked the historian in English, looking around.
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===Asylum seeker===
Cloud 9 – New Circe Orbit – 3045CE
Kaarlo Hennessy leafed through the papers in front of him, at least they had provided an office with a desk, albeit both small he thought ruefully. It had been a supply closet before and was now nothing but the desk, two chairs a few piles of paperwork and bare steel walls. Hennessy had been onboard this ship now for five days, ever since relieving the last poor bastard who both had the misfortune to speak any “Caprican” and worked for the New Circe Ministry of Justice, and he was starting to get extremely tired of sitting here answering stupid questions from Colonials worried about settlement on the planet. Someone in Parliament had suggested it might be a nice gesture if the Star League In Exile was represented by a friendly civilian face and so (after clearing it with President Roslin and the Quorum) any anxious Colonial Citizen seeking reassurance could now go talk to whatever poor slob got assigned the job of mollycoddling them. Not that Hennessy's job description described his duties that way of course.
As Hennessy read through his notes he occasionally took a piece of candy from the bag on the desk next to them, hoping to finish for the day soon and head to the closest bar. A knock on the door indicated someone else had decided to pay him a visit however and he checked his watch and was appalled to find out there were still two minutes to go until he would be entitled to close up. ‘Come in’ he said dejectedly, still reading his papers and starting to add additional notations in red ink, substituting for ill-chosen phrases that were best left off the version he would type up such as crossing out “Archetypal Sagitaron Fruitloop” and replacing it with “Colonial with faith-based concerns”.
The door opened but Hennessy didn't look up, he heard someone enter and close the door behind them as he edited another passage of notes. ‘Please take a seat I'll be with you shortly’ he said.
‘I want to claim asylum’ a woman’s voice announced, she was still standing near the closed door.
Hennessy sighed. ‘Monotheist?’ he queried.
‘Well yes but...’ the woman responded, moving closer.
‘Please fill in Form 6B asking the government of New Circe to offer you asylum on grounds of religious persecution’ Hennessy interrupted, still looking down at his papers. ‘I am authorised to tell you it is likely to be granted but you may have to wait three to four days for the paperwork to be processed and your case to be formally considered and voted upon by a panel of judges’ he told her. ‘Please note however that if you do claim asylum and settle outside the borders of the Colonial City-State that this will necessitate the compulsory learning of English and taking New Circe citizenship’ he continued in a bored monotone voice. ‘I am also required to tell you that said citizenship obliges you to undertake two years compulsory service in the Armed Forces if you are under the age of forty’ he said, ‘although if you are philosophically pacifist you can serve as a medic or engineer and will not have to carry a firearm’ he added.
‘No you don't understand’ the woman told him. ‘I'm... I'm a cylon’ she whispered, half leaning over the desk towards him.
Hennessy groaned. ‘Not another one’ he muttered to himself, looking up at her. ‘Lady you're the ninth person that's come to me since I got here who told me they were a Cylon’ he said. ‘Two of them were teenagers who thought it would be funny, the other six are either medicated or in counselling’ he told her. ‘I've got a card for a very nice psychiatrist around here somewhere’ he continued, looking around for it.
Gina Inviere reached behind her head and removed the band which was holding her hair in place. ‘No, I really am a Cylon’ she insisted. ‘Look at me’ she told him.
Hennessy stopped looking for the card and looked at the woman again, tilting his head to one side. ‘Alright there’s a definite resemblance to the blond one’ he admitted, ‘but...’
Gina shook her head so her hair fell into place and then she took off her glasses. ‘Cylon’ she said, pointing to herself with the hand that was also holding the glasses she had been wearing as part of her simple but surprisingly successful disguise.
As Hennessy stared at her his eyes widened. ‘Fucking hell!’ he exclaimed in English.
Gina didn't understand the words but the tone and expression were fairly self-explanatory. ‘Not here to kill you’ she told him calmly, ‘just here to claim asylum’ she said.
‘You're shitting me?’ the incredulous Hennessy replied in English. ‘I mean, you can't be serious?’ he asked in Caprican.
‘Everyone in this fleet is going to be heading towards the surface soon’ Gina told him, ‘they're already putting up temporary housing’ she said. ‘I've been hiding out, avoiding being seen as much as I could, but if I tried to get on a shuttle full of people I'd probably be recognised and I don't want to be captured by them again’ she told him with honest sincerity. ‘If suicide wasn't a sin I'd rather kill myself’ she said, sitting down across from him and trying to look inoffensive. She already looked pretty nervous which was her actual emotional state.
Hennessy wished he was carrying his service automatic but both it and his assault-rifle were locked up at home along with those belonging to his wife. They both still had a few more years to serve in the ready reserves until they reached forty and would either hand them back in then or sign up for another voluntary decade in the secondary reserves, they hadn't decided yet, but regardless of that future decision he currently wished he had thrown his pistol in with his spare underwear as had crossed his mind when packing for the shuttle. ‘Why do you think turning yourself over to us would be any better than the Colonial Military?’ he asked, wondering if he should call for help or if that would just lead to the machine snapping his neck.
‘I'm not being... interrogated by the Colonial Fleet again’ Gina told him, voice shaky as she did so. ‘I'm just hoping that you're different’ she said. ‘I want to claim asylum, I know you'll just throw me in a cell, you might shoot me even, but what other option do I have?’ she asked rhetorically.
‘You could throw yourself out of an airlock’ Hennessy suggested, immediately wishing he hadn't said it because the crazed thing might try and kill him now.
‘I told you’ Gina replied curtly, ‘suicide is a mortal sin against the One True God’ she declared.
‘Great, a damn Robo-Catholic’ Hennessey said to himself in English.
‘Is your word good?’ Gina asked him.
‘What?’ Hennessy responded in confusion.
‘Is your word good?’ Gina repeated. ‘If you promised to grant me asylum would you?’ she asked.
‘Yes but I haven't agreed that’ Hennessey replied evenly and with less fear in his voice than he felt. ‘I don't even have the authority.’
‘Then I'm leaving’ Gina said, getting up.
‘I can't let you go without raising an alarm and trying to stop you’ Hennessey told her, getting up as well.
‘That genetic engineering you people did to yourselves isn't enough to take on one of my kind’ Gina responded. ‘If I decide to kill you then that's it, you're dead’ she told him. She wouldn't be able to play with him a little like she could with a Colonial but he'd still lose.
Hennessy looked her in the eyes. ‘I may just be a bureaucrat but I'm Clan Wolverine’ he stated with some passion. ‘You're not going anywhere’ he told her, heart pounding in his chest, wondering if the death of a pencil-pushing desk-jockey would warrant a line in the epic poem of the Clan’s history known as the Wolverine Remembrance and doubting it.
Gina didn’t want to kill him, she looked towards the floor. ‘If I surrendered to you would you hand me over to your own government or the Fleet?’ she asked.
‘My own government’ Hennessey told her after a few seconds to think about it.
‘Can you promise they wouldn't send me straight back to President Roslin in chains’ Gina asked, raising her head and looking for a sign of deception in his expression.
‘No’ Hennessey replied.
The cylon considered her position. ‘You're a man of your word’ she decided. ‘I surrender to you as a representative of your government’ she told him. ‘Tell them that if they do try and send me back to the custody of the Colonial Fleet they'll have to kill me first’ she said flatly, it was a simple statement of fact.
‘I'll let them know’ Hennessy replied, this day was ending in a much more dynamic fashion than it had begun he thought to himself as the adrenaline which had been pumping through his system started to wear off.
To Hennessy’s surprise the Cylon walked across to the far corner of the room and sat down on the deck there facing the doorway. She pulled her knees up to her chin and put her arms around her legs as if hugging them into a protective ball. ‘If you go and call your people on the wireless I'll be here when you get back’ she promised. ‘You can lock me in if you like’ she added quietly.
When he returned after five minutes of trying to persuade his superiors he was being serious Hennessy unlocked his office and found her still there in the corner, though now rocking back and forth. From what he had heard the other Cylons in detention on New Circe weren't like this and he suspected she was broken in either machine terms or else in psychological ones. Having no training in either robotics or psychiatry Hennessy improvised and offered her one of the pieces of candy from the bag on his desk instead. It usually worked on his kids as a means to cheer them up.
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==Chapter Notes==
*;Chapter Note from the Author :Some colonies had far more survivors amongst the fleet than others, the Capricans and Gemonese appearing to be the most numerous. If the land grant was going to be carved up they would want it to be according to population whereas colonies with only a few survivors would be thinking very differently.I've decided to go with the idea that the Viper (and Raider) 30mm KEW's have the general performance of a battletech Ultra AC/2 but with a lower muzzle velocity (more range than a Heavy Machine Gun, less than a normal AC/2). The 50mm "HOD" is basically an LB-X Ultra AC/5 that doesn't jam and will end up fitted to Raptors, Wolverine Mechs and Aerospace Fighters in due course. Medical technology in Battletech was much better than what they had in nBSG (as long as you weren't on a Lostech world). The Wolverines have all the old Star League techniques and some of the Clan developed ones, they can fix a surprising amount of physical damage. I can't see the gruff Doctor Cottle taking too kindly to having a Wolverine Doc with a condescending attitude around regardless of his skills or advanced techniques though!Facing imprisonment again made Gina regress somewhat to her traumatised state at the end there, being locked up didn't help. I thought introducing an ordinary New Circe civilian might be a nice touch, Kaarlo Hennessy is just a random guy that works for a government department that happened to speak some Ancient Greek and so got dragged out of his normal career.
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