Shadows In The Mirror (02)

SotF

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#1
DaVinci Station, Sentinel System
Doctor Lothario Algernon stood on the observation deck watching the ships arrive.

The interconnected sections of the space station held nearly a hundred extending ports of varying lengths for such things, and they were interesting to watch.

From its origins as the pet project of someone named for the genius, the station was more of a combination of several. Segments were made to be detachable and be moved to worlds in need before being brought back when the crisis was over.

It was the largest station in the Alliance with the Republic coming as a close second.

Hell, the capitol of the Archer Alliance was as much a ship as a station.

With the amount of spreading the sons and daughters of Earth had done, none was willing to let another colony become the capitol, so a compromise had been made and the roving city station came to be.

In recent decades, he'd come to prefer the relative quiet of the Sentinel system rather than the bustle of the Republic.

This new group concerned him, cyborg clones and robots gave him the horrid thought of what the results of the Shop and the Architects working together.

But the Shop was centuries in the grave, all accounted for and the reason for their work resolved.

The Architects of the Fringe, well, other than an uprising a century ago, they had vanished off the face of the Earth and the fringe was to quiet for them to be tromping around anywhere nearby.

But this was still unusual, something that fit the profile in some ways and yet didn't in others.

And Conrad didn't trust him to see the real picture.

He'd send John Hunter, someone Lothario viewed as less stable than most operatives.

After all, he'd had an artificial personality implanted in his head which led to a third made of pieces of both that took over and went on a rampage.

It was true, however, that some of the mystics had worked and apparently merged John and One into a single being in order to, hopefully, erase Villain X from existence.

But the Lord of Mysteries never did trust mystics, nobody who worked with the fringe as he had trusted them, and the reverse was just as true.

"Doctor," came the calming alto tones of the creation of someone he'd asked to help figure the newcomers out, "The Cylon craft have docked."

He nodded and glanced at the holographic figure standing there.

"Thank you Cleo," he responded before turning towards the door.

Cleopatra was the first true AE that had been developed, and even then, she was essentially a month old.

Her creator, Marcus Alexander was interested in three things, two of which came down to making machines more human and the reverse. From replacement limbs and the bio tuning of the militaries power armor to Cleo.

The third thing was rather evident from the name of the Artificial Entity he'd created.

Egypt had fascinated the man even though he'd never set foot there.

Perhaps, Lothario considered, that was because of his name.

As it was, Cleo wasn't truly standing there.

Her core was elsewhere in the complex and a small drone with a holoprojector was there under her control.

Entering the elevator a figure there surprised him.

"Hunter," he managed to comment without the irritation present in his voice, "You used the Mystic Express I see."

"Yes," came the response as the younger looking man turned towards him, "The Guardians are the best at what they do."

The doctor observed him for a moment.

"Conrad didn't tell you to come unarmed?"

"This is lightly armed," John Hunter responded, the glistening metallic sheath over his body seemed to dance as quicksilver, "I cannot leave the axe behind."

What had once begun as a Shop experiment, a damaged relic being used for the construction of a nanite weapons had slowly grown into a new armor after bonding with John over a century.

"We aren't trying to start a war."

"Lothario," John commented, something that reminded him of the distrust for him that a lot of the others had, "It's not me that they're worried about."

xXx

Cylon Base Star
"What's taking so long," one of the sixes wondered out loud.

"Weren't you listening?" Eight asked with a glance at the blond.

The glance back had her rolling her eyes.

"They're being careful," she continued, "And I agree with the idea, until they're sure we aren't likely to get them sick, or the opposite, we aren't having open contact."

"So what?" the six asked, "We're stuck on the ships?"

"For a little longer, they want to test our immune system and make sure we aren't contaminated or would be contaminated."

She paused.

"We didn't come this far only to die because one of their diseases kills us when we could prevent it."

Eight blinked as a brief flash of data crossed the network.

"Docking complete," Six commented, "I believe that now is the moment of truth."

xXx

AAS Dragon, Nocturn System
Alan Booker blinked at the maximum range sensors.

The Dragon wasn't well armed for its size, designed to be protected by a fleet while playing host to a larger number of drones, fighters, and bombers. With an invasion scenario it would be able to carry dropships and other landing craft as well if needed.

Alone was always a concern with a ship of its size, at least there were other ships due within the next day, others on alert to drop current duties in system if the worst happened.

He wondered just what the hell the Cylons were running from, and if it was connected to the sensor ghosts that were leaving him feeling quite paranoid.

Or were they really out to get his ship?

He wasn't really certain on that note.

xXx

Baltar's Residence, Caprica
The gods had to hate him.

The past few months had shaken him, and now he'd finally gotten a few days of freedom.

He found himself drinking again and pondering how he'd walked through Hades.

It had started with an invitation to see something after he'd been in a debate on allowing AI research again.

Then they showed him the Cylons they'd found, and they looked human.

Cells full of people screaming, tables where some were being examined.

It was a nightmare, one he couldn't escape.

They threatened his funding and credentials if he didn't help.

He'd sworn to never be forced back to how he'd come from Aerilon, and would still have run from what he was being shown.

It was the threat of being forced to assist anyway, an Admiral had cited some law about refusal being treason.

He wondered if they'd damned him or damned himself.

Something had to be done about it, what he didn't know, but something had to be done about it.

xXx

Battlestar Pegasus, Picon
Jurgen Belzen grimaced as he walked by the hatch to medical.

A glance had shown the Admirals pet being patched up again, something that made him shudder.

He knew some of Helena's history, and her current actions were a bit worse than he'd believed.

Cain had taken the revelation of Gina as a cylon badly, a personal betrayal even with some of the things now known.

Hell, the reports said that most of the skinjobs didn't even consciously know it themselves, but Helena didn't see it that way.

She was crushing the girl, breaking every part of her and making her into less than the toasters that others called the cylons.

He remembered the stories told by his father of the war, and hadn't feared the Cylons. They were an enemy, one to respect because if you didn't then they could take advantage of it.

But this, Admiral Cain was taking things personally.

And their new orders, to take command of the smaller fleet still pursuing the fleeing craft, were not helping with the state of her sanity.
 
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