Fic - "Going Native part 59"
WOOO! Part 59! I think you'll like this. I hope you'll like this. STNG/BSG crossover, starring pretty Mr. Gaeta and so many others....
He was in one of their uniforms, of course. She wasn’t surprised by that at all. Gaeta was one of them, not a true colonial citizen at all, and he had always been quick to run to whoever gave him the best deal. The Federation had no doubt lapped up all of the intelligence he had provided them with. What surprised her was how positively ill he looked. She had seen Lee briefly after his return from the Enterprise and Lee had looked fantastic. Well rested and energetic, Lee had looked like a man who had just returned from a great vacation, and from the way he talked, the Enterprise was essentially a pleasure cruiser. Gaeta in contrast looked exhausted and sickly pale, with dark circles under his eyes. Not exactly god like, which she added to her list of things that marked Gaeta as the usurper. “Step away from the computer bank, Gaeta.”
He turned his back to her and put his hands back on the computer. “I know why you’re here, Kara. And you need to give me about five minutes before you kill me. Otherwise the Galactica won’t be able to jump, and the Romulans will call in reinforcements and everyone on this ship will be killed. Let me fix the ship and then you do whatever you want.”
She gritted her teeth. No one knew what he had done to the FTL drive and she wasn’t blind to the bodies of the aliens in the corridor. It had been the gunfire that had led her there. Still… “You’re not a god.”
Gaeta looked at her and sighed. “I never said I was. But I owe you and your people this. I have to get you to safety, and then you can kill me. But I need five minutes.” He turned his attention back to the computer. Then he closed his eyes and she was startled to see the computer’s lights start to speed up their blinking.
“What the hell are you doing?” She pulled him away from the computer bank and slammed him into the corridor wall. Be careful, a little voice warned inside her head, his sister said he was stronger than he looked, but she ignored it.
And she was too surprised by the sudden flash of anger on his face to pull the trigger, or even dodge as he dove and tackled her. She got in a few punches but he was stronger than he looked and in seconds he had her pinned to the floor, his arm around her neck. “You stupid bitch,” he hissed as he choked her. “All you had to do was wait five frakking minutes….”
That was the last thing she heard as she lost consciousness. ~*~
“We have reports of enemy boarding parties,” Admiral Adama’s voice rumbled over the loudspeaker. “We are at condition one.”
Cottle shrugged as he loaded his side arm. Bill always had a way of sounding serious yet completely at ease on the loudspeaker. As if the Galactica routinely repelled alien space pirates or whatever the current crisis was. Still, no one was hassling his patients. Especially now that they had medicine and treatments. “All right, I want everyone to be alert. If you’re sick, then just lie there and don’t worry.” He glanced at T’kil who had stayed behind to assist with the patients. “I have an extra gun if you want.”
She eyed him. “Vulcans are pacifists.”
“That must make wars less exciting,” he said as he lit a cigarette. Before she could retort, the doors to the hospital area slammed open and two Romulans stormed in, holding what he had to assume were weapons. “This is a hospital, gentlemen. Would you like a bandage?”
“What for?” snarled the first.
Cottle fired his gun. It slammed into the Romulan and the explosive round made a huge hole in the Romulan’s chest. As it fell, spewing greenish blood to the floor, Cottle said, “Yeah I guess a bandage isn’t really going to help.”
“Look out,” T’kil said, pushing him aside as the other Romulan rushed them. She quickly and calmly spun the Romulan into a wrist lock and then used her free hand to pinch the man’s neck, causing him to collapse in a heap.
“Well, that was certainly cute,” Cottle said easily as two of Galactica’s pilots stormed in, guns waving. They skidded and slipped in the dead Romulan’s blood. “It also creates less mess. And now we have a prisoner.” T’kil wasn’t exactly smiling, but Cottle sensed a certain amusement coming from her.
He took a deep drag on his cigarette. “All I know,” he said as he nudged the dead Romulan with his shoe, “ is that these guys aren’t exactly tough to kill. Somebody better get a mop though.” ~*~
She realized with a start that she wasn’t dead. She was lying on the floor of the corridor, propped up against the wall, her weapon conveniently out of reach. Gaeta was still there, his back to her. He was leaning against the bank of computers, touching it and resting his head against it, almost as if he was trying to hug it. His eyes were closed and he seemed to be almost grimacing with effort. The computer seemed to be blinking in time to his breath, and for just a moment she was awed by it, because she could just sense what he was doing. She knew what he was doing, that was the hell of it. He was one with the ship, feeling it and directing it. She had done the same thing with her Viper, it was instinctive and for a second she was jealous. Jealous that Gaeta of all people, had the pilot gift and had it in such abundance that he could direct a ship the size of the Galactica. Pilots, good pilots, had the gift of being able to be one with their ship. It wasn’t something that was talked about, it was understood. Pilots that lasted, that lived beyond their first few real missions, had the gift. It was what divided the excellent from the average.
Still, it gave her an idea of what he had been up to over the years. It also erased any doubt she had about his supposedly holy nature. He had broken the Galactica, on purpose, and she was watching him try to fix it. For a moment, her resolve wavered. If he wanted to destroy them all, a small voice chimed inside of her head, there had been better opportunities. He could have let them all die on New Caprica. Or during the jump from Ragnor. If she had the number on the new aliens, the Romulans correct, then Gaeta could have cheerfully led them all to their deaths. And it wasn’t as though he had ever been all that obsessed at self preservation.
He was standing with his back to her, with his eyes closed, after all. That wasn’t conducive to living long, not at all. And as she watched him through slitted eyes, she realized he was completely oblivious to everything around him. Her hand inched forward and she slowly gripped the service pistol. She had learned how to wait. It was a lesson Leoben had taught her and she could wait for him to be done. Shooting him in the back while he was totally out of it wasn’t exactly sporting. So she kept as still as possible, her eyes barely open.
That meant she saw the alien soldier as it slowly rose from its prone position, and carefully take shaky aim at Gaeta with its weapon. No, she thought darkly as her fingers curled around the trigger of her pistol, I’ve waited patiently. You and your green bleeding ass are not ruining this for me. With lightening speed she swung the weapon around and fired. The alien went down with a squawk of pain, and she fired another round at its head to be careful. She kept her eyes on the Romulan, noting Gaeta had turned to look at the edge of her peripheral vision. “Does a head shot kill them?”
“What?” Gaeta said, his voice shocked and breathless.
“The Romulan. Does a head shot kill them?” She was pretty certain the greenish splatter was brain tissue.
“Y-yes….”Gaeta stuttered. If anything he looked even more pale.
She pointed the pistol at him. “Good. Now get to it. We haven’t jumped yet.” The Romulans were dangerous, and the Galactica needed to rejoin the fleet. “We can talk when you’re done.”
“No…” He flinched at her look, but only a little. “I’m sorry… I’m not a god… it’s just a form of telekinesis…. But I don’t….” He suddenly slammed his fist into the wall. “That damn centurion….” He looked up at her. “It’s not magic… but it’s like a battery… you have to recharge and I didn’t… The Galactica just needs a push and I don’t have enough left…”
“Son of a bitch!” Kara snarled. The prophecy was true, in part. Gaeta had led them to the point they were at, with an alien ship bearing down on them and the ship unable to jump. He was the usurper, a false god bent on leading them to destruction. Her fingers curled around the trigger. For a moment, he seemed to accept his fate and then suddenly his eyes sparkled in thought.
“You flew the raider. How did you do that, Kara?” His question surprised her, partly because he asked it in that often snotty way he had when he thought he was right about something.
“It was just a ship. If it flies in atmosphere, it has to obey certain principles.” She wasn’t sure where he was going. Flying the captured raider had been a long time ago.
“You put your hands on it, inside it,” Gaeta said softly, his expression growing more excited. “You asked it to fly, didn’t you? You were desperate and you asked it, and it responded….”
The problem was that he was describing exactly how she had handled it. She had been desperate, and she had known that the ship could fly and she had… wanted it to help her out. And it had. “What are you talking about?”
“You opened the Tomb of Athena.” He pointed at her. “It wasn’t the arrow from Delphi. That was just a piece of art attached to the story. *You* are the Arrow of Apollo. You’re a direct descendent of Athena… probably some sort of genetic throwback. A lot of colonials have the genes. Not enough for it to really matter but enough for oracles and visions and enough to make the Viper hard as hell to fly if you don’t have the help. You know what I mean. I remember listening to you and Lee Adama talking one time, about how you can always tell who will wipe out in a training class.”
“Shut up!” Yet, she didn’t pull the trigger.
“You did that painting on the wall,” Gaeta pressed. He pointed to her paint dotted hands. “I remember looking at the pictures of the Temple of Jupiter and thinking it looked like the wormhole….” He took a deep breath. “I need your help, Kara. You can do whatever you want to me once the ship jumps but I need you to help me get the ship to safety… The Romulans pushed too far…. They might fire on the Galactica just to cover up the fact that they boarded.”
His words slowly sank in. “You’re not part god. I’m not part god…”
“No,” Gaeta said, “No one is part god. But you’ve read the stories… Zeus raping women, Apollo taking wives… If you believe the scrolls are true… what do you think happened to the children of the gods? It’s a gift you have… its why you’re a good pilot, it’s how you flew the raider. I need you to just help me… Just for a moment… Then you can do whatever you want… I won’t stop you.”
He’d always been such an honest little bastard, that was the problem. Despite the lie, the huge lie, she could see it in his eyes that he meant it. “Gods, you’re an idiot,” she said as she put her weapon in her flight suit’s holster. “If you’re going to break shit, you need to be able to fix it, Felix. What am I supposed to do? Pray?”
“No…” He gestured to the computer bank. “Just put your hands on it.”
She did. “Nothing is happening,” she said after a moment. Much to her surprise, Gaeta came up behind her, putting his arms around her so that his hands were on top of hers.
“Don’t worry,” he said softly in her ear. “It shouldn’t hurt…. This is like putting a fresh battery with a used one. You just have to follow along.” He pressed his hands down on hers, entwining them until his fingers touched the ship. And then she felt it. The Galactica. Almost shaking with nervous anticipation… She had to close her eyes from the force of it and when she did, it was as though she could see the ship under her hands, lines of wire and code floating by, some zooming and some… waiting.
Please jump, she heard in her mind, and she knew without a doubt it was Gaeta. There was a sense of praise, and she let it flow around her.
Everyone is pleased, Gaeta said. You did exactly what we wanted, what we needed. You brought everyone to safety. I told you not to jump and that saved us. Everyone is going to a new home and you’ll get to go too but you need to jump.
It made sense, and she could even feel Gaeta almost pulling the energy from her to convince the Galactica. She understood almost instinctively what he had done. She also realized in seconds what needed to be done. Gaeta had bullied the ship into doing something it hadn’t wanted to do and eventually he would apologize enough to appease the Galactica but they didn’t have time.
Let me, she hissed in her mind and she could feel Gaeta’s thoughts flinch and then…move aside. He was letting her control his power, and she realized with a rush that while he was exhausted, his ability outstripped anything she had ever done with a raider or a Viper. Listen to me, she said to the ship, focusing all of the lines of code into a well aimed pyramid ball, this is what the Admiral wants. Not Felix, not me, but the Admiral. The Admiral wants you to do something that’s so easy. Jumping is easy and impressive and it’s all Admiral Adama wants. You’ve never disappointed him before but you will if you don’t jump. You have to jump now!
In her mind, she let go of the thought and for just a moment she thought it had failed. And then it felt as though a wave of power flowed into her. She could sense, could feel, the Galactica let go and open the pathways to the FTL drive. The metal thrummed under her hands, a sensation she had felt many times before but never as strongly. The FTL drive was spinning and so deep in the ship, she could feel it all over her body. She pulled Gaeta’s hands off the ship’s metal wall just as the inversion of the jump wave washed over them.
We’re safe, she thought as her vision dimmed, we made it.