Well, that's a good fun pickle. And of course the decision was made to ignore the primitive screwheads advice, and that if bullets didn't work, of course fire will. Instead of you know, trying to ask the earth kingdom or any native about the spirits sure lets burn the other half of the forest down. Why jump from 0 to 10, without passing through, raptor gunship with missiles at 5 first. Silly colonials.
I am looking forward to this next conversation and meeting though. And Aang is rightfully pissed. Go Aang!
Hey, I'm so glad you like it! One of my goals was to try not having the Colonials be pure good guys, so I'm glad that made it through.
---------------------------------------
"Galactica, Raptor One requesting priority clearance for landing, we have injured on board, please acknowledge."
Aang listened closely to the garbled dialogue emanating from a glowing console mounted at the front of the small airship he'd been huddled into a few short minutes ago. Its rear compartment was uncomfortably cramped, and the hard wall he was pressed up against did nothing to help the situation. Sokka inspected the set of odd glowing screens etched into the ship's hull. One had a swishing blue wave running across its length every few seconds, another displayed a simplistic green outline of the very airship they'd boarded. Two guards, armed with metal barrels the avatar could only assume were weapons, shared their compartment. Seated in front was the man who'd tended to Katara's wounds just outside the forest. The others referred to him as 'Helo.'
Helo turned his head around.. "Hey, she's on board, they're getting her help right now. Katara's in good hands, okay?"
Aang refused to reply. His eyes darted above the control panel to the inky blackness that enveloped their canopy. A set of small, grey lines had appeared in the distance a few minutes ago. They'd grown larger and larger, until finally he could start to make out their shapes. Dozens of metal-glass boxes were suspended in the void of space. Some were boxy, with multicolored rectangular crates plastered across their hull. Others looked like massive, grey rectangles floating among the stars. One of the largest was a thin cylinder with a giant, rotating torus surrounding it, connected by thin metal pylons. Some were slender, small things with fins bolted on the back, while one was covered with dozens of round domes, some intact and others broken and seared with burn marks.
Their small airship turned, and in spite of the knowledge that his best friend was fighting for her life, Aang's jaw dropped in awe. There it was - his planet. Just a corner of it, poking out the left side of their window. As the craft turned and revealed more of his world, he could make out great oceans of blue, alongside hints of a massive green continent partially obscured by cloud cover. That was
him, the orb he'd spent his life on. The orb he'd spent a thousand previous lives on. The avatar felt a deep, spiritual connection to the planet and every living thing on it, and Aang felt a humbling sense of reverence at such a complete view.
"Raptor Three, you're cleared to land. Hands on approach, Checkers green, call the ball."
Helo tapped a button on his control panel. "I have the ball, hands on approach, speed one-seven-five."
One of the mighty grey-red ships grew larger and larger. It seemed to be one of the most massive by far, though it was impossible to make out scale without knowing how fast or how far apart all these strange ships were moving. It was a long, thick slab of grey, with two enormous pods sticking out either end of its hull. The airship appeared to slow, letting itself maneuver into one of those great pods. It followed a series of white strips to a gentle landing on the mothership's deck.
Helo removed his helmet. More garbled lines of dialogue came out of the speaker, but whatever they were talking about, Aang didn't understand. Something about pressure.
He and Sokka were ushered outside just as the airship's hatch flung open. Another half dozen men and women, wearing the same black armor as the one who shot Katara, were there to greet them. They aimed the tip of those same metal weapons at them, the one that made a deafening sound just before Katara had been covered in her own blood.
"Where's Katara?" Aang demanded. He wouldn't allow these people to intimidate him.
"It's okay guys, weapons down." Helo implored. One by one, the soldiers slowly brought their weapons to the ground. "I'll take you both to Katara right now. Follow me."
--------------------------------------------------
In the dreary, comfortless box that was charitably referred to as
Galactica's sickbay, Kara watched Doctor Cottle mash his cigarette into the nearly full ashtray on his desk. The pilot helped a nurse transfer the bloodied woman from a gurnee onto the freshly prepared operating table. Her half-closed eyes blankly stared into nothing.
Helo charged into Sickbay, Aang and the older boy right behind him, escorted by practically a whole strike team worth of marines. The two younger guests were immediately horrified by their friend's condition. "Is she going to be okay?" Aang pleaded.
Cottle grabbed a pair of scissors and started undoing the hastily applied bandages above her wound to get a better look at how bad the damage was. "It's a damn good thing you got her here when you did. One or both of the bullets probably broke up inside her and nicked a major artery. I'm going to have to operate."
The doctor grabbed a facemask out of one of the cabinets, then shot an annoyed glare at the two guests. "I don't know who the hell you are, but that means
clear the room."
"We aren't leaving her alone with you." The younger boy with the blue arrow tattoos asserted.
Cottle gave an expectant glance at Kara, but a slight shake of the head was her only response. The doctor finished applying his mask and rolled his eyes. "Fine, have it your way. Just make sure you vomit in the trash can over there."
"Starbuck! Front and center!" Demanded a thick, raspy voice from just outside sickbay. Starbuck smiled at Helo, and walked out to greet Admiral Adama. He was flanked by a pair of marines just outside the airtight bulkhead of sickbay. "She was injured by us, you brought her up, I get that. What I don't understand is why you felt the need to bring
two other strangers onto this ship."
"Sir, one of them is her brother, the other-"
"I didn't ask how they knew her." Adama snarled. "Did those three people not throw an entire river at our operation? Do you have
any idea what they are, who they are, what they're capable of? How do we know those people aren't able to rip this ship apart from the inside out? How many people have you put at risk?
You don't know!"
Kara glanced back at sickbay. Helo was making his way over to them. "Admiral, if it'd been Lee on that Raptor, you wouldn't have been able to sit tight and wait either. I think we're more than capable of dealing with three children."
"Can you? That
entire mission was a total failure. One bird stayed behind to run recon, somehow that thing in the forest is still alive. We still don't have access to our equipment."
Helo saluted the admiral. "Sir, something's off. On the surface, the younger boy, Aang, used airbending on Starbuck. Airbenders were supposed to have been wiped out a hundred years ago."
"Apparently, they weren't." Kara said.
The mystery didn't seem to have any appeal to Adama. "Captain Thrace, this is your mess, I want
you to keep an eye on them. The moment that girl is in the condition to leave this ship, I want them off."
Kara saluted "Yes sir."
--------------------------------------------------
Tom Zarek had spent most of his life on the impoverished colony of Sagittaron. It was hard for anyone to claim that his desolate, mountainous homeworld hadn't suffered the most hardship out of all the Twelve Colonies. Before the Articles of Colonization unified the worlds during the first Cylon War, Sagittaron had spent centuries under the boot of occupation, exploitation, and abuse at the hands of the eleven other worlds. Even after the war, racism and systemic discrimination against his people had been normalized all over the Colonies. All the Sagittarons could hope for out of life was to eke out a living as second class citizens.
Zarek pondered his childhood on that desolate world as he walked with Vice President Baltar down the stone-tiled road of the Earth Kingdom city the two had been scouting out for most of the day. Baltar might be the arch-nemesis of Roslin and Adama, but he was still the duly appointed Vice President of the Colonies, and the doctor fully intended to take advantage of that fact to insert himself into the negotiations with the natives of this world. Zarek himself was still a member of the Quorum of Twelve, as Sagittaron's lawfully elected representative. Try as Roslin and Adama might to shove them out of the process, they had every right to be involved, and the former freedom fighter had seen to it that they were.
Even Roslin herself seemed to admit she needed their help. Once it became clear that trading with the natives had become the only possible way the fleet was going to solve its food shortage in time, she'd ordered the creation of a committee to document all of the equipment and scientific knowledge they could use as barter. In a rare moment of lucidity, President Roslin had appointed Doctor Baltar to that committee. So, here they were, walking the streets of this great power that had, much like his homeworld, withstood generations of hardship and suffering. It was hard not to feel a sense of solidarity with this Earth Kingdom.
"I've been going over their farming techniques." Baltar said as the two continued down the city street. They'd just parted ways with the Earth Kingdom official the local king had assigned to work with them. "Using images from the Raptor as well as the information from the Earth Kingdom citizen's we've interviewed, I'd say we could probably show them how to double their food output, maybe more. A lot of basic things really, but they add up."
"These people don't need better tills or irrigation, doctor." Zarek replied. "Look around you, look at these streets! Refugees everywhere, people with third degree burns and nobody to treat them. What they need is our help."
Baltar took a disinterested look around the bustling street. Storefronts and businesses dotted the cityscape. Merchants loudly argued over prices, beggars and homeless were on their knees in tattered clothing, pleading for scraps. The same street performer had tailed them for a few blocks now with his flute-like instrument, evidently catching on to their importance. "Roslin was insistent on not involving ourselves in their war, for better or worse. Honestly, I'll be glad when we're out of this dump. The air smells like sewage, and the people somehow smell worse. It really is the greatest argument for some sort of cosmic irony that we need these people at all."
Zarek fought the urge to scowl at Baltar. "My source on
Pegasus contacted me yesterday. The harvesting operation in the forest was attacked by something, some sort of creature. The plan was a total bust."
"Such a shame, Laura was really banking on that." Baltar said with feigned disappointment. "Has that nugget of information made it out to the press yet?"
"I dropped a tip to our usual reporter just before we left. I'd imagine the story will be dropping today, should buy us a few more points in the polls."
Baltar rubbed his hands together. "Good, good. Wish I was there to see Roslin's face when it does. By the way, have you listened to the wireless lately? People are still addicted to news about the planet, they've even started calling it a name. New Caprica."
"People were living on this planet long before we got here. I don't think we get naming rights." Zarek's eyes stayed glued on street life, humming with life. These people had suffered a hundred years of defeat, but you couldn't see it on their faces. Towards the end of the block, dozens of battered men in a loose formation marched into view. Many had burns all along their bodies, some across most of their face. A few barely managed a limping walk, while others had to be half-carried by their comrades. All of them wore the tan-green uniforms Zarek had learned to associate with the Earth Kingdom's military.
"Be that as it may, I wouldn't mind teaching these people how to build a proper sewer system. Free of charge, of course."
Zarek stopped listening to the Vice President. His eyes were still stuck on those Earth Kingdom soldiers. Dozens and dozens more flowed into their street, each soldier looking just as beaten and tired as the last. What kept them going back into their hopeless fight? "Doctor, I want you to go ahead to the Raptor. I'm going to get a look at some of the stores, just satisfying some personal curiosity."
Baltar rolled his eyes. "You go right ahead, I'll be in the air conditioned Raptor when you're ready."
Zarek kept an eye glued to Baltar as he blended into the crowd and faded out of sight. He started walking back up the street, eyes jumping from soldier to soldier. Finally, he settled on one man. A younger one, possibly not even a full adult. He was in better shape than most of his division, but half his arm was still bandaged and dark red with dried blood.
"Hey!" Tom said, placing a hand on the soldier's shoulder. "Hey, this is going to sound weird, but can I talk to you for a minute?"
The soldier stopped and faced Zarek. Now that he had a better look at his face, the man definitely looked on the younger side. His hair flowed down past his shoulders, and he wore a green bandana across his forehead. "Uh, sure." The soldier said in a softer voice than Zarek expected. The man's eyes looked him up and down. "I've never seen clothes like that."
"Oh, yeah. I'm not from around here." Tom offered, straightening his tie.
The man immediately grew more excited. "You're one of
them, aren't you? The visitors from the stars I've heard stories about." They'd piqued the interest of a few nearby soldiers, forcing Tom to usher the two into a nearby alley.
"Guilty as charged. What's your name, son?" Zarek asked.
"Haru." The man responded. "Is it true what they say, do you have the power to defeat the Fire Nation?"
Tom chose not to acknowledge the man's question. "I wanted to ask you, why are you fighting? What's the point? Your people have lost, you've got to know that. Why don't you just surrender and get it over with?"
Haru looked taken back. He furrowed his brow, trying to process Zarek's question. "Why do we fight?" He started, almost confused. "We're a proud people. We'd rather die fighting for our freedom than live as slaves under the Fire nation. The life we would have under their thumb wouldn't be worth living."
Zarek gave a firm nod of approval. "I like that answer. Freedom, above all else, is worth fighting for, dying for. Even killing for."
Haru clenched his fists. "That's exactly it. I've seen what villages conquered by the Fire Nation are reduced to, the kind of lives the people who are carted off live. I can't let that happen to me or my family. I won't."
"Your people remind me a lot of mine. We were slaves for generations, killed over…" He paused. "It's too much to get into right now, but you deserve better than what you're getting from us. I want you to take something."
Zarek removed his backpack and kneeled down to search through the largest pocket. It was tricky, but he'd managed to sneak a small, short-range wireless set down. Hopefully its battery would last long enough for Tom to get done what he needed. "This is called a wireless, some of your people have seen it. What I need you to do for me, is take this device to your superior. Keep this switch here flipped to the same position at
all times. In a day or so, you'll hear my voice come out of this part here. When that happens, you need to hold down that red button, and you can talk back to me. Simple as that."
Haru took the device, examining it with a look of bewilderment. "I don't understand, what are you doing?"
"The people I'm with don't understand what you're going through, they can't. Somebody needs to do
something. Tell none of the other visitors about this, follow my instructions exactly, and maybe we can change that. Can you do this?"
Haru still looked a bit disoriented, but he ultimately agreed before running off to rejoin his comrades. Zarek took a quick look to make sure Baltar or their guards weren't in sight, and began making his way towards the landed raptor just outside the city.
--------------------------------------------------
Katara felt the entire world spinning around her. Most of her body felt numb, and there was an aggravating high pitched pinging by her left ear. She faintly opened her eyes, and that numbing feeling gave way a thick throbbing all across her shoulder. The fourteen year-old waterbender tried turning her head, but she could barely crane her neck an inch. The walls were a light metal.
Metal. She'd been somewhere like this before, a Fire Nation warship. No, it couldn't be, she couldn't have been-
"She's waking up!" Aang's soft, comforting voice was like a breath of fresh air. He appeared over her, then Sokka.
"How you feeling, sis?" Sokka asked with a sly smile.
"Like someone threw an icicle through my shoulder. What happened? Where are we?" Her voice was meek, but she forced the words out.
Aang and Sokka looked at each other nervously. "That's going to take a bit of explaining." Sokka said.
An older man appeared in front of her, dressed in white. A small, metal rod was wrapped in his fingers. A bright light shot out of the contraption. Katara was powerless to stop the man from holding her eyelids open and shining the machine into her pupils, forcing her to recoil away.
"Reactions are normal, that's a good sign." The man said. "This isn't the first time a marine with an itchy trigger finger has sent somebody to my sickbay. First time they've sent a kid, though. Bastards."
"Aang, Sokka." Katara started, finally managing to crane her neck around to see more of her surroundings. A set of tubes were hooked into her body, connected to a perplexing machine with a glowing screen. The same machine where that constant beeping was emanating from. She tried to get up, but Sokka stopped her from moving. "Where are we? What happened in the forest?"
"They hurt you, hit you with some kind of weapon." Sokka explained. "The woman we've been talking to said it was an accident, but I don't know. They took us here to save you."
"Where is
here?"
"You're on a spaceship young lady, named
Galactica." The older man said from his desk, sorting through a set of papers. "X-Rays are clear, and the bleeding has stopped. That means you're going to be fine."
"Spaceship?" Katara repeated. Her eyes pleaded for Aang and Sokka to tell her more.
Aang nodded. "They had an airship, it flew us up high,
way higher than Appa ever has. We could see the whole planet."
Katara had trouble processing the information. The woman in the Earth Kingdom city
did say the visitors came from the stars, but it was still hard to accept it was reality. She started reaching around her clothes, and was elated to find her satchel of water still attached to her waist. Katara turned her neck to get a good look at the bloodied bandage wrapped around her shoulder. "I think I can do a better job healing myself than these people."
She started tugging on her bandage, but the doctor caught her in the act.
"Hey!" You want to be stuck in that bed even longer than you have to? Knock it off!"
Katara glared at the man, but decided to bide her time. She heard the door at the room's entrance jerk open, and the doctor stood up to investigate.
"Madam President, I wasn't expecting a visit from you." The Doctor said as he turned a corner out of view. Katara talked Aang and Sokka into buying her a few moments of privacy. Aang gave her a wink, and the two walked off to greet the new arrival.
Katara grabbed hold of the white bandage plastered onto her shoulder, bit her tongue, and pulled. It took every ounce of fortitude in her body to avoid screaming in agony as she forced the white material off her body. Blood oozed out of her freshly sealed wound and dribbled onto the bed sheets below her. With a flick of her wrist, she commanded the water from her satchel to surround itself on her wound. A moment later, the liquid began to glow. Within a few seconds, the bright glow faded, and she returned the water to its original canister. The round wounds had been replaced by freshly healed skin without the slightest hint of her injuries. Katara ran a satisfied hand over it.
She stood up, pulling herself free of the mechanical devices attached to her. Someone coughed from behind the purple curtain adjacent to her bed. Katara couldn't help herself from tugging it open to investigate.
Laying in another bed was an older woman with wrinkled, impossibly pale skin. The meek woman seemed to be fighting just to take her next breath in. The women coughed before she could even get another full lung of air. She opened her eyes and gazed curiously at Katara.
"Oh, hello." She said hoarsely. "You don't look familiar. That's a beautiful outfit you have on, what happened to it?"
Katara shot a glance at ripped fabric on her shoulder. "It's a long story. What happened to
you?"
"Oh, I have time young lady." She joked. "I'm going to be here for awhile. Doctor says i've got mold growing in my lungs, I'm in here for the long haul. Lords know the air in my ship is toxic, but nobody will fix it."
"I'm so sorry to hear that." Katara offered, not exactly sure what else to say.
The woman gave a small smile. "It's okay, there's nothing you can do. They kept putting repairs off, and off, and it finally caught up to us. One of the passengers I was travelling with still visits me as often as he can, that gives me the strength to keep sucking up oxygen. What's your name?"
"Katara." The waterbender took a seat in the chair next to the woman. "I don't understand, they knew your air was poisoned?"
"Oh, they knew." The woman coughed again. "Nothing they can do, they say. No spare parts. They told me no medicine either, but I'm pretty sure they're lying. I guess I'm just not important enough to worry about."
"They have medicine to help you, but they're letting you suffer?" Katara inquired, feeling her blood rise. "What kind of horrible people would let you go through this?"
The woman didn't reply, her throaty cough stopped her from getting another word out. Katara willed her water out of its vessel, and with a thrust of her palm directed it at the woman's chest. It glowed again for a few brief moments, and the woman's breathing started to normalize. She returned the water as the woman grabbed her chest, smiling wildly.
--------------------------------------------------
"Madam President, I wasn't expecting a visit from you."
Roslin smiled at Doctor Cottle, the man's gruff face was always a welcomed sight. Adama had given it his best to try to stop her from coming down here, he'd
insisted it was a mistake. They knew nothing about these visitors they'd plucked from the surface, he'd said. They could've been helping that beast in the forest for all they knew. Laura couldn't be dissuaded, she had to meet them face to face. She was aghast to learn their people were the ones who opened fire first this time, on
children of all people. She felt it was her duty to try atoning face to face, and hopefully use the opportunity to learn a little more about what they were dealing with. Besides, she was a school teacher, she'd made a career out of working with children. She was the most qualified person on this ship to try talking to them.
"I came to meet our new guests, how are they doing?" Roslin asked.
"The young girl is going to be fine, but it'll be awhile before she gets full use out of that arm. I want to keep her onboard at least until she finishes her course of antibiotics. Lords know I don't trust the people in this fleet to follow directions, I can't imagine these people are going to know any better."
"You can't begin to imagine how relieved I am to hear that, doctor."
Two boys cautiously poked their head out from around a corner. The smaller one was totally bald, dressed in that red and yellow outfit Helo had described. He had bright blue tattoos across both arms and over his head, shaped like arrows. The older boy was with him. Laura took a cautious step forward as Cottle moved out of the way. They looked just like any other normal teenagers Roslin had seen or taught back on the Colonies, strange tattoos aside.
"Hello." Roslin said with wave. "My name is Laura Roslin, President of the Twelve Colonies of Kobol. I represent our people." The two looked at her hesitantly. "I am so,
so sorry that our people hurt your friend. I can't begin to tell you how horrible I felt when I heard what happened."
"Sorry?" The younger boy said, taking a step closer. Kara told her this one's name was Aang. "Sorry doesn't
begin to cover it. What were you doing down there? Why were you destroying the forest?"
Laura stared blankly at the young boy. He was awfully assertive for someone that looked to be about twelve years old. "It's a long story, and I want to tell you every bit of it, but first I'd really like to check on your friend. See how she's doing."
"Why would she want to talk to you?" The older boy barked out. "You almost killed her!"
"I know we did." Roslin replied softly. "We're going to take care of her, do everything in our power to make sure she gets better, and then we're going to take you back to your home, wherever that is."
"And then what will you do? Hurt more people? Who are you, why did you come here?" Aang demanded. He huffed hard enough for Laura to feel the air rush across her body like a gust of wind. Did she just get her first in-person demonstration of bending?
"It's hard to explain. We lost our home, about a year ago. We stumbled across your world, and have been trying to learn more about it."
"Do you usually learn about something by destroying it?" Aang asked harshly.
"We were defending ourselves." Laura tried explaining. "Our people need food, desperately. We found that forest, saw it had food growing everywhere. When we tried gathering it, and our people were attacked."
"
Of course you were!" Aang yelled. "You were invading its home. The forest spirit was defending itself from
you."
"You know what that creature was, the one that lives in the forest?" Roslin wasn't sure how much useful information she could glean from an adolescent, but anything they could go on would help.
"Of course I know! I'm the Avatar, the bridge between our world and spirit world."
Roslin felt her forehead crinkle. "The Avatar? What does that mean, exactly?"
The boy paused. "You've never heard of the Avatar?"
Roslin shook her head. "No, we've never heard of the Avatar. Where we came from, there was no bending and no spirits. It's all completely new to us, and we don't really understand it."
Silence dominated the room for only a few seconds before Doctor Cottle, who'd just broken off to check on Katara a few moments, let out a cry.
"What the hell?"
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Doctor Cottle laid out a series of X-Rays on the wall in front of him. Roslin knew she gave the poor man enough trouble as it was, but dealing with Gaius Baltar and Kara Thrace at the same time felt almost like a punishment. Cottle splayed the last of his images out on the wall, and pointed at the first. "This one here was taken of Mrs. Sewell two weeks ago. Notice these dark clumps on her lungs, that's all mold. She could barely breathe."
He pointed to the second image. "I took this one twenty minutes ago, then another just to be sure. There's nothing, absolutely nothing. She's totally clear, like the mold was never there. I can't even pretend to explain it."
"There must be some sort of explanation." Roslin said, grasping at straws. "Was her condition improving before now?"
"Not even a little, she was practically transferred to
Galactica for hospice care
."
"That's incredible." Roslin got out, examining the images. She turned to Baltar. He may have been her political rival, but the man was still a brilliant scientist. If anybody in this fleet could offer something resembling an explanation for what was happening on this planet, it was him. "Doctor Baltar, what do you make of these people's abilities?"
Baltar studied the images in silence, one hand slowly stroking his finely trimmed beard. "I've examined a sample of the girl's blood provided by Doctor Cottle. I've also carefully examined every readout produced by every piece of equipment she was hooked up to, and cross-referenced it with human norms."
"And?" Roslin asked intently.
Baltar shook his head. "There is absolutely nothing out of the normal, not a damned thing."
"Well, that's just not good enough, Doctor." Roslin declared, her arms crossed. "Surely there must be some sort of rational explanation, more tests you can run."
"There's
always a rational explanation, Madam President." Baltar said in that condescending tone she was so familiar with. "As for finding it, I'm not sure it's within our capabilities. You're right, there are more tests I could run, but the equipment I would have needed to perform them was destroyed with the Colonies."
"So you have absolutely no idea how she healed herself or this woman? You're saying it might as well be magic?"
Baltar sneered at Laura. "Magic is a term people throw around when they don't have an explanation for something that very second. Our ancestors didn't know what made lightning strike, or what made fire burn. At one point, it was all magic to them, but we lifted the veil on those secrets of the universe, and one day we'll figure this secret out, too."
"Not even the girl can give me a solid explanation of what the hell she did, she gives me some nonsense explanation about chi and redirecting energy paths." Cottle offered. "That makes me damned nervous,
she doesn't seem to understand exactly what it is she's doing, and I'm supposed to just discharge my patient?"
"The girl has a name." Roslin said flatly. "Well doctor, I couldn't tell you how a wireless works, or how the Raptor that took me here was built. That doesn't stop me from using them as tools."
"Oh come on, that's not the same thing." Was Cottle's firm rebuttal. "Just because
you don't know how a wireless works doesn't mean somebody else doesn't. If I offered you an injection to treat a condition of yours, but couldn't tell you what I was giving you or what it did, would you feel comfortable with me pumping it into your veins?"
Roslin considered Doc's words. "That's a good point."
"I mean, it
worked, didn't it?" Kara pointed out. "Katara is healed, the old lady is healed. Isn't that proof enough she knows what she's doing?"
Cottle let out a huff. "No it isn't, not for me."
Roslin craned her neck at the medical bed behind her. The trio of guests they'd brought up were refusing to even talk to her now. She approached them, deciding to give it one last try. All three looked away.
"I'm really glad you're feeling better." Laura said to the woman.
"You were letting her
die." Katara spat out. "You knew you had medicine to help her, and you refused to let her have it. What kind of people could do that?"
Katara's words felt like daggers piercing Laura's heart. How could she even begin to explain everything to these people? "It's complicated, but I never want to see anybody suffer." Seemed like a good starting point.
"You don't belong here." The tattooed younger boy said brutally, stomping a foot on the ground. "You obviously don't understand how to live in harmony with our world, you
bombed a forest, you almost killed my friend, and you were letting that woman die. You are
evil people, and you should leave us alone."
For all Laura's experience, she stumbled over her next words. "There's a lot more to this, please, let me-"
"I don't want to hear it." Aang cut her off.
Roslin gave a lowly smile, but her heart felt like it had dropped past her stomach and onto the bulkhead. "Okay, I'll let you be."
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The Fire Nation Royal Palace was an architectural marvel unmatched anywhere on the planet. Its grand spire soared hundreds of feet into the air, topped by a massive yellow sculpture in the shape of the familiar flaming emblem proudly adorning most Fire Nation ships and war machines. The spire was the single most recognizable structure in the entire world-spanning empire, and remained visible through most of the capital city. Its image was even molded onto some coins. Jutting out of the spire was a set of three long, red villas, lined with marble pillars. They held everything from the most luxurious living arrangements that could be found, to galleries filled with only the most valuable and high-class works of art. They held trophies of war, too, cultural artifacts stolen from conquered territories and battered people.
Azula was intimately familiar with every room of the tremendous palace, having been raised there her entire life. She'd been so graciously returned to the Fire Nation capital the day before, and still couldn't get the unnatural feeling of soaring into the air out of her head. The way her craft effortlessly shot itself into the sky, how she'd been pushed into her seat by the craft's momentum. The 'Raptor,' as her pilot called it, made the new hot air balloons their War Minister had shown off with such pride last month look absolutely dinky. Their airships and tanks were, up until now, the pinnacle of human ingenuity, the technological spearhead that had driven the Fire Nation to victory time and again over the century long war. Soaring through the air even faster and higher than the dragons of myth was exciting, even exhilarating, but it was also a splash of cold water. The craft's pilot seemed almost
bored on takeoff. This marvel of engineering would have been viewed as magic by the less civilized cultures they were conquering, but this method of travel was so routine to these Colonials.
They were a threat, plain and simple.
And when Princess Azula finished recounting her tale to her father, Fire Lord Ozai, he recognized that threat just the same. The War Minister was also present for her debriefing, just as Azula had wished.
"Ironic that, for all their technology, they need our help." Ozai said from atop his grand throne. Great cones of flame flanked the royal chamber, giving the room a warm, flickering light. His voice boomed across the long throne room.
"However impressive they may seem, they're still refugees." Azula explained, head tilted ever so slightly up to meet her father's gaze. One day, she would be the one sitting in that grand throne. She'd been groomed from her first day of life for the role, born for it. "We're in the unique position of being able to help them. That's an opportunity for us."
Ozai leaned forward, contemplatively stroking his long, braided beard. "Be honest with me daughter, how likely is it we can just seize these Colonials along with their technology?"
Azula hated disappointing her father, but the situation called for pragmatism. "Not likely at all. They mentioned they escaped with their civilization's last two surviving warships. They call them Battlestars, mile-long hulks of metal flying over us right now. If their warships are as powerful as their airships, no army we have could stop them."
The War Minister took the opportunity to chime in. "Even if we held their technology in our hands, I'm not sure how much we could learn. It would be like giving one of our ironclads to a Water Tribe villager and expecting them to build one themselves. Letting them teach us their secrets would go a long way towards replicating them ourselves."
"You said their worlds were utterly destroyed, reduced to inhospitable wastelands." Ozai rubbed his hands together. "With such raw power, there would never be another war, or another uprising. Nobody would dare stand against us. Fear of such weapons alone would keep our subjects in line."
"Luckily, we have something they want." Azula noted with a sly smile. "They want food, so we'll give them all the food they could ever possibly want. We'll offer to trade them land, and spin some story about how we're making sacrifices, but our hearts were just so touched by their story, that we'd do
anything to help them get by. Make them feel like we want them as partners, allies, even friends."
Ozai's sly grin grew wider and wider as Azula laid out her plan. He nodded approvingly. "Then, one day, while they're living right on our doorstep, and their secrets are ours, we'll thrust the knife in."
Azula returned her father's smile. "One day, not even the world will be your limit, father."
Ozai ordered the Colonial representative to be invited to the Royal Palace immediately. The visitors had left the Raptor responsible for returning Azula right outside the capital, waiting for her to give the final word that her father would see them. The Colonials let her know to expect their diplomat within a few hours, and soared into the sky. When it returned later that day, the man who stepped off was dressed in a grey dress shirt, with a leather sash running across his shoulder. Small, golden buttons of various shapes adorned the sash - Did they represent rank? Status?
The representative himself was a handsome, tall man with pale skin and finely trimmed hair. He reached a hand out, but Azula rejected it in favor of giving the man a deep bow.
"My name is Princess Azula, let me be the first to welcome you to the Fire Nation."
"Lee Adama." The young man replied. "Commander of the Battlestar
Pegasus, and formal representative of the Twelve Colonies of Kobol. I'm looking forward to learning about your people, and hope our relationship will be long and prosperous."
"As do we." Azula said, inviting the man into the capital city. She was a patient woman - And she was willing to take all the time she needed to let her plan fall into place. No matter if it took fifty days, or fifty years.
--------------------------------------------------
"Fifteen. Hundred. Tons."
Lee's declaration over the loudspeaker of
Galactica's CIC sent cheers of jubilation across the entire room. Adama shot a hopeful smirk at Laura. Tigh yelled for the cheering officers to show some restraint, but it wasn't doing much good. Hunger was starting to overpower even Colonel Tigh's iron fist.
"We're still working out the details, but the Fire Nation is offering to trade fifteen hundred tons of food. They say it'll take some time to gather everything and get it ready for transport, but I think we can help them shave some time off."
"That's enough food to feed the entire fleet on full rations long enough to get the Botanical ship up and running." Tigh said haughtily. "Helo doesn't know what the hell he's talking about, these have been the most reasonable people we've met on this rock."
"Gods, we may never need the Botanical ship again. We talked about land, dad. They're open to trading good, arable land. Nothing concrete yet, but we might actually be able to make a home for ourselves here."
Laura was working through the fifteen pages worth of items and expertise the Fire Nation had shown a special interest in. The committee approved by her and the Quorum had spent a lot of sleepless nights pulling everything together. The exhaustive list included fifty short-range wireless sets, though 'short-range' to the Colonials was still empire-wide to the Fire Nation. The fleet would provide a handful of electrical generators to start them off, but they'd also agreed to send a team down to teach their new partners the principles behind how those power systems and wireless sets worked in the first place. The Fire Nation seemed to be an industrious people, just as curious about the science behind their technology, as the machines themselves. They would teach the Fire Nation how to smelt higher quality steel, the fundamentals of powered flight, help them improve their simplistic combustion engines, and even teach them how to get more output from their farms. It was a very long list, and it honestly made Roslin a little nervous. The Fire Nation gave Lee noble stories of how they'd be able to use better engines for transporting food, or the wireless sets to spur commerce, but it would be trivial for the superpower to use these new technologies in their war.
"As much as I want to trust our new allies, from a military standpoint, we're putting an awful lot of our cards on the table." Adama warned, as if he was reading her mind. "We're outnumbered a thousand to one here. Our technology is the only thing stopping somebody from seeing us as a tempting target."
"Just because we're teaching them how to make bi-planes doesn't mean they'll suddenly be tooling around in Vipers. We still have the ultimate advantage from orbit." Roslin rebutted.
"Maybe we do - but if the Fire Nation, or anybody for that matter, decided to send a million troops towards our settlement, I'm not confident we'd be able to stop every single one of them."
Roslin grinned. "Settlement? Where did this come from? I don't recall being a part of that discussion ."
Adama chuckloed. "The entire fleet already sees permanent settlement as a foregone conclusion. I'm just trying to think ahead."
Laura crossed her arms. "Honestly, I just don't think this is a good time to have that discussion. The election is two weeks away, and we're still dealing with a major crisis. We need to sit down - all of us - the Quorum, ship captains, you, and really hash out what settlement on this planet might look like."
"Yeah, give Baltar that memo." Adama replied with disdain.
"We should have the agreement finalized by tomorrow, I'll transmit everything as soon as I can. I can't wait for you to try their food, it beats the hell out the crap we've been eating for months."
"Damn good work, Lee.
Galactica out." Adama signalled for an officer to terminate the comm link with their grounded Raptor. He gave Laura a curious look. "I can tell you've got something else on your mind?"
Roslin lowered her head, and sighed. "I can't get that conversation I had with those kids out of my head. Katara was right, we
were letting that woman die."
"That's not fair, and you know it." Adama's content demeanor quickly gave way to his baseline, stoic self. "We have a very finite supply of medicine in this fleet, and once it's gone, it's gone. There are people with skills vital to our security - Mechanics, pilots, doctors, we can't afford to lose them.."
Roslin clasped a hand against her face to gently rub beside her eyes. "I know, we've had this conversation before. You're right, it's just… it doesn't get any easier over time."
"It's never going to get any easier."
Was that really as true as Adama feared? Vivid memories of those survey images exhibiting endless ocean and vast green continents filled Laura's head. Maybe it
could get easier. Maybe this planet really did represent an end to the living hell their daily existence had become. Maybe it actually could be a refuge from the Cylons who had relentlessly pursued them over thousands of light years. Laura could feel the soil of this planet in her hands tomorrow. That was more than she could say about Earth.
"There's something else. The young boy, Aang, he's an airbender. Helo said airbenders were supposedly wiped out a hundred years ago, annihilated by the Fire Nation. He says Aang may be the last of his kind. I've tried to push it away, but I can't help feeling a little bit worried about who we're throwing our lot in with."
"Why don't you just ask this boy about the Fire Nation?" Adama asked like he'd just pointed out the obvious."
Roslin's voice grew softer. "They don't want anything to do with us. They think we're 'horrible people,' in their words. I can't blame them, they're young, and our situation is a little hard to explain. I wish there was a way to show him there's more to us than he thinks."
"At the risk of lecturing a school teacher about how to deal with children." Adama started as Roslin raised her head to meet his eyes once more. "You said this boy's entire civilization was wiped out. I think he might have a lot more in common with us than he realizes, maybe the first step is making him see that."
--------------------------------------------------
Aang and his friends had been listening closely to the slightly distorted voices emitted from the peculiar metal box on the Doctor's desk. Kara, in one of the rare times she'd spoken to the trio, told them similar devices broadcasted sounds across the entire fleet of 70-odd ships. These Colonials really did possess strange powers Aang would almost call magic. One person, a man with a higher pitched, accented voice seemed to dominate the current conversation. He had quite an odd name - Gauis Baltar.
"You're right, you're absolutely right. It's just like I said at the first debate, that's the question we need to ask ourselves - Who is really in charge of our government? Not Laura Roslin, that's for sure. It's obvious to anybody paying attention that Admiral Adama is pulling her strings. We're a defacto military dictatorship, and Roslin knows only to humor the Quorum and the people's will so long as it doesn't conflict with Adama's agenda."
A woman's voice crackled through next.
"Doctor Baltar, no administration can hope to govern this fleet without the military's support. President Roslin has widespread support throughout the military, how can you hope to be an effective leader without that kind of backing?"
"At the end of the day, if there's one thing we need to remember, it's that this is a government of the people. That's what democracy is. If we can only count on that to remain true so long as the civilian government has the military's blessing, then the Twelve Colonies really did perish when the Cylons attacked."
The doctor Aang had come to know as Doc Cottle flipped a dial on the machine, and the voices instantly ceased. "I don't know about you kids, but I've heard enough of Baltar for one day."
"Of the people." Aang thought out loud, playing back the conversation in his head. "I don't understand. Have you ever heard of something like that, Katara?"
Katara shook her head. "The Northern Water Tribe was led by a Chief with absolute power. He controlled the military along with everything else. The Southern Water Tribe where I grew up was led by a Council of Elders."
"The Earth Kingdom is the same way." Sokka noted. "You've got the Earth King, whose door by the way, we really
should be knocking on sometime soon."
"So, here, the military is ruled by one person, and then there's somebody else who rules everything else?" Aang asked, trying to put the pieces together.
"And the guy in charge of the military is supposed to answer to
someone else?" Sokka asked in disbelief. "How is a system like that supposed to work?"
"There's a little more to it than that." The blonde haired Kara quipped from her chair across the room to Aang's surprise. "The President is the Commander and Chief, the military answers to her. But the President has to answer to the Quorum, twelve representatives sent by the Twelve Colonies."
Katara leaned up in the bed Doc Cottle demanded she stay in just a little longer. "The Council of Elders elected the Chief of the Southern Water Tribe. But the Elders were respected for their wisdom and experience, so we knew they were smart enough to make those decisions. You people
elect the entire Council?"
"We elect the council, the President, the whole nine yards." Kara answered.
"And it all just
works out?" Sokka asked derisively. "How? The way that Baltar guy was talking about the military, I'd be getting pretty fed up with him. What's stopping the military from just charging in and taking power for themselves?"
"Oh no it doesn't just all work out, oh
Lords no." Kara laughed. "Gods, no, it's been hard. When the XO took control of the military for a few days, he almost-" She stopped herself. "Long story, but it's every step of the way since the attack has been a fight. I honestly hated politics, I never voted. But it's who we are. It's all we have left."
"Elections, people fighting for votes..." Aang pondered. "If more people who saw how horrible this war is were able to vote for their leader, maybe it would have ended a long time ago."
Katara raised a finger at Kara. "Your president, that Roslin woman Baltar was talking about, she's a
woman. When we were at the Northern Water Tribe, they refused to even teach me how to fight because I'm a woman. Here, she has control over the entire military?"
"Yeah, we don't worry about that kind of crap here." Kara replied matter-of-factly. "Trust me, we have
no issue with women getting into a few fights here. You're looking at living proof of that."
Aang wanted to keep prying Kara for information as long as he could, but the heavy door at the front of sickbay clanged open before he could get another word in. The woman from earlier, Laura Roslin, turned the corner and knocked a hand on the grey wall to beckon for his friends attention.
The momentary truce was replaced by memories of Katara's crippled body. Aang scowled at Laura, but she still maintained that same soft inflection.
She initiated the conversation. "I know we haven't gotten off on the right foot. I know you have plenty of good reasons to hate us, and I honestly can't blame you. I'm pleading with you, give us one more chance. I want to take you somewhere, show you something that will hopefully help you understand us. It won't take long at all, and after we're done, if you never want to talk to any of us ever again, I'll respect that."
Aang grimaced. It was in his nature to forgive, it's what his people had taught him back in the air temples over a hundred years ago. There
did seem to be more to these people than he'd assumed when they first boarded that airship, but he wasn't sure what they could possibly show him that would make up for almost killing his friend.
"Aang, you should go. See what she has to say." Katara pleaded. That was the final push the young boy needed.
"Okay. I'll go." Aang resolved. "Show me."
--------------------------------------------------
Aang and the president had walked down one drab, triangular corridor after another for a good ten minutes. They all looked identical, making it hard to believe they were actually getting anywhere. Every person they'd passed either stopped dead in their tracks to get a good look at him, or gave a nervous side eye as they walked by. He was the avatar, he was used to that attention, but it was different here. Finally, Laura said they were getting close. She dismissed the pair of bodyguards tailing them, saying she wanted a little privacy.
"I come here pretty often actually." Roslin said. The hallway lights grew dimmer. Aang recognized the flicker of candle light in the shadow cast on the next junction. When they made that last turn, what Aang nearly made his heart jump out of his body.
The walls weren't the bleak grey they'd been for the entire trip. They were adorned with hundreds upon hundreds of faces, colored on small squares or printed on ripped paper. He walked up to the first section of the wall, straining his head up to find every inch of the bulkhead covered with picture upon picture. One was of a man with a pair of small children at his side, another of a middle aged woman with a heart scribbled beside her head. It was impossible to focus on any one picture for more than a split second before another grabbed his attention, and then another. Aang slowly walked forward, turning his head to find bulkhead after bulkhead plastered top to bottom with an endless stream of pictures. They were on every wall as far as the corridor went, until it terminated thirty feet away. Aang could feel it in his soul - this place was sacred to these people. He wanted to take in every inch of it. Where there weren't pictures, there was paper with writing scribbled on them he didn't understand. The meaning still made it through. There were drawings mixed in too, some looking like they'd been colored by small children, others just stick figures.
Aang had been so caught up by the sight, he almost bumped into the table placed in front of the next bulkhead. A pair of simple picture frames sat atop it, with a heart glued onto the corner of one. Something was written underneath the frames, which held pictures of gleaming cities with great towers of shining glass.
Laura pointed at the table. "It says, 'Remember Tauron.' That table back there, the heart just says 'Caprica.' That's where I was born. They were part of the Twelve Colonies, our home, before it was destroyed."
Aang looked up at the bulkheads at those scribbled notes. "What do the papers on the wall say?"
Roslin raised a finger at one of them. "That one says, 'My Love, Kristina.' Over there, that one says 'Always with my sons, Joe and Christopher.'" She ran a hand across the outer edge of the bulkhead, eyes drifting from image to image. "The Twelve Colonies were attacked by a race of machines called-" She paused, shooting a glance up for the briefest of moments before resuming. "By a
people called the Cylons. We were at peace with them, then one day attacked us out of nowhere. Within a day or two the Cylons had destroyed our defenses, and slaughtered our civilization."
Aang flashed back to his memory of finding the decaying skeletons of Gyatso and the other monks at the Southern air Temple. The horror and pure anger he felt finding his people destroyed, coupled with the realization that Aang was the last of his kind. When he didn't talk, Laura continued with her story.
"This ship,
Galactica, led the few dozen civilian ships who managed to escape the genocide. When we finally,
finally had a moment to catch our breath, people from all over the fleet came here. They brought pictures of loved ones, praying
, to find somebody,
anybody they might have known. Family, lovers, friends…"
"Did anybody find who they were looking for?" Aang asked softly.
"No, almost nobody did. After a while, when reality set in, people started coming to remember instead of just look. If they didn't have pictures, they'd post drawings, or simple notes, or love poems, or anything. Anything to let others know these people existed."
Dim light flickering off half-melted candles danced on the pictures. Aang saw them with fresh eyes, now that he knew every single person on this wall was long dead. "Did you know anybody here?"
"A few, yes. In fact, he should be…" Laura ran her finger across the wall, pacing down the corridor. "Right here." She drew Aang's attention to a thin, pale man with dark, curly hair. He was beaming ear to ear, and dressed in dark, formal clothing. "His name was Billy. He was actually my assistant, he was travelling with me at the time of the attack. We both survived, but he died a few weeks ago while saving the life of a woman he loved."
Aang's eyes dropped from Laura. "I'm sorry."
"We've all had more than our share of loss." Laura said grimly. "A year ago, we were all living normal lives. One horrible day later, everything we knew, everything we loved, was
gone. Our entire people were destroyed, and our home was lost forever. We've been on the run ever since. Can you imagine what that must feel like? The sheer scale of that loss?"
Aang turned away from her, one hand bunched into a fist. "Yes, I can."
Laura's voice turned hopeful. "Tell me more, please?"
He faced Roslin, her hands clasped together, waiting for him to go on. "One hundred years ago, my people sensed that war with the Fire Nation was coming. They told me I was the Avatar, but I was afraid, so I ran. I was caught in a storm, and froze myself in an iceberg to survive. Katara and Sokka found me a couple months ago."
"Frozen in ice." Laura sounded almost impressed.
"The Fire Nation
destroyed my people. I found the skeletons of my old friends laying in the same temple I grew up in. I'm the last of the Air Nomads, the last airbender. Now, I have to stop the Fire Lord from conquering the whole world, and restore balance to the four elements."
Laura gently let out the breath she was holding "I can't imagine what that must feel like, finding them like that. Nobody should have to go through that."
"They're
gone. They would never have dreamt of hurting anybody, and they were the first people to die. And I only survived because I
ran away. I'm all that's left of them, and if I don't stop the Fire Lord before the comet arrives..."
Laura took a step closer. "We have to fight those thoughts, too. Knowing that we only survived because we left others behind. It's okay to feel the way you do, and the fact you're still here means your people live on in you."
Aang gave a faint smile. It was nice having somebody that could relate to him, even if only a little bit. "I'm sorry I yelled at you earlier, I was so angry about Katara, I was worried about what would happen to her."
"And I'm sorry about what happened to her. I want to know more about you, about this Avatar, and about the forest spirit you said attacked our people. Do you think you would be okay with that?"
Aang took a breath before giving a firm nod. Whoever these people were, there was more to them than fantastical technology and a disregard for nature. If his job really was to maintain balance on that world, he supposed that duty applied to these new arrivals as well.
------------------------------------------------------------------
Laura didn't bother trying to hide her sense of wonder at the demonstration in front of her. Katara sapped the water out of the glass on the overbed table in front of her, and with the smallest of motions, let it coalesce into a ball suspended in midair. She was still lying down, though Laura couldn't find the slightest hint the woman had nearly died barely a day ago. The ball expanded, turning into a swirling torus before collapsing again and instantly turning to ice. Laura reached out to find the ice ball just as cold as she would have expected. With another motion, the water reverted to its liquid form and Katara returned it to its vessel.
Laura wondered if she should pinch herself, just to make extra sure she wasn't in another dream. "My
Gods that's amazing." I've heard people describe bending, but seeing it in person is another thing entirely."
Katara wore a very obvious grin . "I'm glad you like it, do you want to see more?"
"I'd love to, yes. How did you learn to waterbend? Are you just born knowing how, or did somebody have to teach you?"
Katara seemed amused by the very question. "I trained with some of the masters at the Northern Water Tribe, when we visited to find Aang a few weeks ago. Before that, my mother taught me everything she could, but she wasn't a bender herself. The tribe where I grew up was small, she did a lot of the teaching."
Roslin sensed an in with the girl . "I have so much respect for your mother, that's not an easy job. I was a teacher, so I have an idea what that can be like."
"
You were a teacher?" The older boy asked skeptically. Aang had introduced the girl's brother, Sokka to her. He seemed very protective of his younger sibling, and unlike either of his friends, had no bending abilities whatsoever. Roslin wondered if bending had a genetic component. "How exactly does a teacher become president?"
"Well, it's a lot like what happens if a king dies. His heir takes over, and if
they die, then the next, and so on. I was the Secretary of Education when the Cylons attacked. After our president and everyone else in the line of succession above me were killed, I was sworn in."
Aang was seated on the bed next to Katara. He also seemed very protective of his friend. "How far down the line were you?"
"Forty-third." Roslin said simply, her face unchanged. An awkward silence filled the room, which Roslin resolved to break. "I'd love to know more about your mother, what is she like? Does she still teach children at the Southern Water Tribe?"
The silence only grew deeper. Katara leaned back into her pillows, the remnants of her grin vanishing in a heartbeat. Even Sokka, so eager to prove himself to Laura moments ago, seemed more reserved. It wouldn't have taken a teaching degree to know she'd made a mistake.
"My mother was killed by the Fire Nation when I was eight years old." Katara said solemnly. "They found out a waterbender was in our village, and waterbenders could resist them. So they threatened to kill all of us unless the waterbender gave themselves up. My mother sacrificed herself to save us."
"That's… horrible." Roslin muttered, internally cursing herself for her choice of topic. "I'm so sorry, she must have loved you very much."
"She did." Katara replied, a set of tears starting to fall down one eyelid.
Aang took the chance to piped up. "If the Fire Nation wins this war, they'll kill every Earth and waterbender in the world, just like they killed her mother and the Air Nomads. That's why it's so important for me to stop the Fire Lord before Sozin's comet arrives - A hundred years ago, it gave the Fire Nation enough power to destroy my people. This time, they'll use its power to end the war."
A comet powering up firebenders? That sounded a little fantastical, but Laura was sure the boy was exaggerating details from myth and legend. Then again, what was one more supernatural act in this miraculous world? She'd also assumed the stories of angry spirits were myths, and look what that got them.
Roslin used the conversation's turn to ask another burning question. Bringing a notebook was a good decision. "I'd like to know more about what the Avatar is, Aang."
Sickbay's door banging open stopped the boy from carrying on. The purple curtain separating them from the rest of the room thrust open, revealing a very annoyed looking Tory. "Madam President, can we have a few minutes?"
"Of course, Tory. Excuse me, please." Roslin said to the trio before stepping outside of sickbay with her assistant.
Tory gave an annoyed sigh. "The Quorum is in an uproar. They're demanding to know why you haven't brought the finalized trade agreement with the Fire Nation up for a vote, and I can't stall them much longer."
Roslin shot a glance towards the sickbay, double checking the adolescents hadn't followed her. "I just need a little more time, this might not be as good of an idea as we first thought."
"
More time?" Tory nearly yelled out. Roslin urged her assistant to keep her voice down. "More time? Madam President, this fleet is five minutes away from clubbing their neighbor in broad daylight for an extra ration card, and you're here playing
school teacher to a bunch of medieval-"
Roslin raised a finger to silence the woman. "Tory, you know I value your opinions, but right now I need you to
shut the frak up and understand your place.
I will decide when the trade agreement is brought to a vote, not the quorum, and not you. There's a lot more to the Fire Nation than we initially thought, and right now I just need you to please buy me a little more time."
Tory rubbed her forehead. At least she knew to give up the fight this time. "Okay, I'll see what I can do. I just need you to know, ever since it leaked out that the harvesting op was a bust, people have been getting desperate. I don't know how much longer they're going to take this."
"Where the hell does the press keep getting these tips? I swear, I'm going to have Adama- You know what, nevermind. We don't have time to deal with that right now, just stall them."
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"I was right, we're so close to making a
horrible mistake."
Adama's gaze remained transfixed on the Dradis display mounted above CIC's central command console, his hands locked behind his back. He tried dodging the statement. "It doesn't look natural, does it? All that static from the goop out there. Like we're trying to see through a rainstorm that'll never go away."
Laura rolled her eyes. "Before today, I could tell myself that we didn't have all the facts. That we did horrible things in our past, and have no right to be passing judgement, but I can't keep doing that anymore. The Fire Nation is
evil, Bill, and if we help them, if we go through with this trade deal-"
"If we go through with this trade deal, we'll practically be handing them the keys to the planet." Adama finished more succently than Laura could have hoped. His eyes finally left the Dradis display to meet hers.
"They've commited genocide once before, and they're a heartbeat away from doing it again. I will not,
not allow our first diplomatic action on this planet to be making ourselves an accessory to that crime. I could never sign that agreement and look those kids down in sickbay in the eye again."
Adama emitted a weary groan. "I'm not saying I disagree with you, but this fleet is two weeks away from running out of food, best case. If we signed the agreement
tomorrow, it would still take a few days of grunt work before we could
start distributing supplies to civilians. That's a very thin margin to work with."
"Lords Adama, I know we're cutting it close, but there
has to be some other way. You even said it yourself, we might be giving up too much with this deal."
If she could count on anybody to take her side right now, it was Adama. The man had a moral compass surpassed only by his son. "That was before we had to put down a riot on the
Aurora this morning. And to be frank, the Fire Nation was well on its way to winning its war before we showed up. This trade deal isn't going to change the equation."
"Oh no." Roslin said firmly. "I am not going to let us rationalize our way out of this. You, of all people - I remember you told me, when you backed down from giving Starbuck the order to kill Admiral Cain, you told her it isn't enough to survive. That we have to be worthy of surviving. If we go through with this, can you honestly say we deserve to live on this planet?"
Adama looked across the room. Tigh was coordinating with Gaeta this very moment, going over what the supply runs would look like under the assumption they'd be going through with the deal. "If you're looking for an out Madam President, you better find it soon."
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"So you
were trying to kill the Forest Spirit." Aang said with a harsh finger pointed at Starbucks chest. She bit down on her lower lip. "I mean, you
can't, but that's not the point."
Kara seemed to take her sweet time taking a long, drawn out breath before letting her lip go. She'd been biting down hard enough to draw a small droplet of blood. "The forest spirit attacked
us. Killed two of our people, unprovoked, in cold blood. I knew one of them, and she didn't deserve what happened to her."
How many times did he have to say it before it got through this thick woman's head? "You were destroying its home! You were warned it was there, and you just barged in anyway. Also, you're still missing the point, you tried to
kill it. That's
wrong."
"My friend left a new picture on that wall you saw the other day. I think the woman he pinned up there would disagree with you."
Aang let out of a huff. "I'm an Air Nomad. My people taught me that all life is sacred,
all life. Those weapons you used, all they do is burn and destroy. You didn't care how much had to die, as long as you got what you wanted. Killing is wrong, no matter what the reason is."
Kara slapped her hands on her knees. "Always wrong, huh? You think so? Did you know the Admiral didn't even want your girlfriend over there on his ship? I had to practically force him into letting you on. You wanna know why I was so hell bent on doing that?"
Aang blushed, breaking his stare with Kara for the briefest of moments. "Why?"
"When we fled the Colonies, the Cylons kept finding us. Over, and over, and over. They'd show up right on our tail every half hour, like clockwork. For days
."
Aang sneered at the woman. "The Fire Nation's been chasing us around ever since they found out I was still alive. That doesn't mean I start destroying people's homes."
Kara ignored him. "Well, we finally figured out why. The Cylons were tracking one of the civilian passenger liners. They sent it back one jump with a big ol' bomb inside, just for us. So, the admiral gave me and my friend an order. Destroy the civilian ship, killing over a thousand people onboard."
The avatar pursed his lips. "So what did you do? Some daring escape where-"
"I shot the damn ship down."
Aang felt himself freeze in place. He searched his brain for the vocabulary to reply, but couldn't find the words. "You shot it down?" Was all he could manage.
"Yeah, I did. And I've hated myself for it every day since then. It's why I would have held the marines down there at gunpoint if it meant getting Katara on that Raptor. I sure as hell won't be be responsible for another kid dying."
"I guess I should say thank you for saving her life." Aang said meekly. He wanted to add,
even if you were the one who almost killed her, but decided against it.
"
My point is, if I hadn't shot that ship down,
all of us would be dead right now. The world isn't as neat and tidy as you seem to want it to be, Aang."
Laura thrust open the curtain beside them, inviting herself in. Aang couldn't have been more relieved for a change of topic. She sat down in the empty chair beside them.
"Aang, I wanted to talk to you about something very important." Roslin said in her usual amicable tone. Despite that, Aang could sense something was worrying her gravely. "By the way, Sokka, you said you were curious about the rest of the ship. I've arranged for one of our officers to give you a little tour, if you'd like."
"
Yes!" Sokka said, delighted. "The doctor was showing me how X-rays work, and it was
so cool. I even get to keep this picture of my arm!
"
"What did you want to talk about?" Aang asked Laura.
"You told me you were the bridge between our world and the spirit world. Can you tell me what that means?"
Aang couldn't help but smile at one of these people finally asking the right questions. "The avatar is like… It's my job to make sure the two worlds live in harmony. When a different forest spirit named Hei Bai was destroying a village, I calmed it down so it left the villagers in peace."
"Aang, our people are in the middle of a crisis. Like I told you before, we only intruded in that spirit's forest because we needed food."
Aang flung a nervous glance at Kara. "I might have heard a thing or two about that."
"If we don't get that food, our people are going to start dying soon. Slow, agonizing deaths. I know you're probably still upset at us, but If you're the bridge between our two worlds, if there is
anything you could do to-"
"I can help you get the food!" Aang declared as he flung himself in front of Roslin with enough force to almost knock over a nearby monitor. "It'll be easy, all we have to do is go down there, have you apologize to the spirit for attacking its home, and I'm sure it'll understand that this was all one big misunderstanding. Then we just ask for its permission to take food from the forest, and you'll be good to go."
Roslin blinked hard at the avatar. "Ask it? That's it? Just…
ask?"
"Well, you'll need to ask
really nicely, because it's probably pretty mad at you. But, I'm sure I can pull a few strings, being the avatar and all. I have a very close working relationship with the spirit world."
Laura clasped a hand around her heart, exhaling hard. "Just
ask." She was starring past them now.
This might actually work out perfectly. Aang would get to make an ally out of these people after all, and they seemed like powerful allies to have. "So when do we leave?"
------------------------------------------------------------------
"Madam President, I want you to sit down, take a deep breath, and
listen to yourself." Adama chastised. Roslin had rejoined him and Colonel Tigh in CIC, and neither of them seemed terribly pleased with her latest plan to solve their crisis.
Laura stood her ground. "Admiral, you aren't going to talk me out of this. I'm going down to that planet with Aang, and I'm going to try to negotiate with this spirit for access to the forest."
"Oh, you've had your fair share of crazy ideas in that head of yours." Tigh growled. "Visions, calling yourself a dying leader, but this,
this takes the cake!"
"You think so, Colonel? Would you like me to tell me more about how that spirit is superstitious garbage now, or would you rather do it at the service tomorrow?"
Tigh grabbed hard on CIC's command console. "That is
way out of line."
"Madam President, you are putting the fate of this entire fleet in the hands of a
twelve year old boy. A boy who fantasizes about being this world's savior. You can't actually believe this Avatar story."
"Admiral, one week ago we learned that the people on this world can magically control the elements around them. Two days ago, an apparently intelligent being referred to as a
forest spirit attacked us, shrugging off bullets and fire like it was nothing. Yesterday, a young woman comes aboard this ship and uses so-called mystical powers to heal herself and a dying woman. If this boy being the reincarnation of some Avatar, with a destiny to restore balance to their world, is the last supernatural thing I need to believe in order to save this fleet, then so be it."
"Okay, look." Adama began in a harsh voice. "Lets just say, for a second, that all of this is true. That this boy can help us communicate with this…
spirit. That thing still butchered two of my men."
"And that's a tragedy." Laura countered. "But if we have a chance to get out of this crisis diplomatically, without abetting genocide, we have to take it."
Adama and Tigh gave each other long, resigned glance. Adama reached for a phone. "I'll send a marine team down with you, Mathias and a few other-"
"No, no weapons. Aang insisted."
Adama's frown deepened as his hand dropped from the phone. "Of course he did."
"Aright, fine, if the president wants to go down there on some fool's errand and get herself killed, that's her business." Tigh snapped. "Don't let us stop you."
In contrast, Adama's tone softened. "I know you're only doing what you think is right." He said. "For what it's worth, I hope I can say I was wrong. And you let that thing down there know, if
any harm comes to you, or anymore of my men, I'll
incinerate its precious forest."
That was about as close to Adama's approval as Roslin could hope to get. "When the sun sets on that part of the planet, we'll take a Raptor down. Wish me luck admiral, Lords know I'll need it."