Site Themes:  ColonialViperCylon
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By Olli

Beta: Birgitt, Wadjet
Word Count:
Rating: R because of some swear words.
Category: femslash in upcoming parts, for now HET
Pairing/Focus: Caprica-Boomer/Helo, Sharon Valerii/Chief Tyrol
Warnings:This story contains the pairings Caprica-Boomer/Helo and Sharon Valerii/Chief Tyrol. Slightly HET.
Summary: This is a rewrite – or should I say a retelling – of the episode "Water" (1x02) from a femslasher’s point of view.
Spoilers/Disclaimers: Battlestar Galactica is the property of Glen A. Larson, Ron Moore, David Eick Sci-Fi Channel, R & D TV, Sky and NBC Universal.

Author’s Note: #Spoilerwarning!# This story is part of what will become a BSG story covering a long stretch of time. Caprica-Boomer is the leading character and I think it is important for her further development to show how she felt for Lieutenant Agathon (Helo) and how she got pregnant by him. Her love for him was in fact the reason why she turned against the Cylons (or didn’t she…?) and so I will start with my series by following the canon of the TV-show.

This also goes for Sharon Valerii and her relationship with Chief Tyrol, I think.

So in the first few parts I will take a closer look at these relationships.

The main part of the story will see another woman as Caprica-Boomer’s love interest, of course. It will be... hehehehe. If you want to know you have to read my story...




It was cold and dark.

But why? What had happened?

She didn’t know but she wouldn’t remain in this cold and dark place. She had to leave! She wanted to leave!

Sharon opened her eyes and stood up, startled. She looked around and… She was in a storage room? Why? She looked down at her body, and saw that she was completely soaked from head to toe. Her hair, her uniform, her boots – she could hear the squelching of water as she moved her feet.

Sharon couldn't work out what the frak she was doing in a storeroom, and more to the point, why she was soaking wet. A duffel bag sat between her legs. It seemed to be hers and it was dry. Slowly Sharon knelt down and opened the zipper. It contained a uniform, shoes and a towel. All of it dry. She had to change and leave before someone came in and questioned her. Nowadays everybody who behaved strangely was suspicious. Sharon peeled off her soggy jump suit.

She knelt down, grabbed her uniform and… her hands jerked away as if she’d been stung and she stumbled backwards in shock. Inside the duffel bag were some explosive and a timer, connected with wires. Sharon panicked. What if someone…? What if she…? No! This couldn’t be true. Sharon just stared. Why was a bomb in her bag? She didn’t know. Who had put it in there?

She had to disarm it! Sharon reached into her bag and without thinking she pulled out the timer and the detonator. She held the pieces of the bomb in her hands and froze. She stared at the timer but it was dead. No blinking lights, no countdown. How had she known? How had she known how to disarm a bomb? She was a pilot; she never had handled a bomb before, at least not a… a self-made bomb like that.

She had to find out where it had come from; she had to find out who put it in her bag and most of all she had to find out how she knew how to disarm it.

* * * * * *

Sharon wore her dry uniform as she left the storage room, duffle bag slung over her shoulder. She walked through the hangar deck and thought about what she had to do. She had to go to the armoury and check the explosives and the timers. After that she had to get rid of her wet clothes and then she had to find out what happened.

"Oh, Lieutenant?" Specialist Cally jogged after her.

"Specialist, good evening."

"Sir?" Cally was baffled. The Lieutenant seemed absent-minded; as if she had been caught with her hand in the cookie-jar.

"What? Something wrong?" Sharon asked slowly.

"Er… No, Sir… But it's morning."

"What time is it?"


That couldn’t be true, Sharon thought. The last thing she remembered was…

"Uh, Lieutenant, because…"

"Later, Specialist. I have… I…I have no time."

Sharon walked away without another word and Cally stood there, staring after her. This wasn’t the Lieutenant Valerii she knew. Normally she was a lot more sociable and had always a word for the deckhands. Cally shrugged. Since those fucking Toasters were on a crusade, everything… or everyone had changed.

* * * * * *

Sharon arrived at the small arms storage. She opened the bulkhead, stepped in and closed it securely. The timer had a serial number and she knew which storage box she had to look for and opened it. It was filled with metal trunks. Each of those contained twelve timers. There was one with open locks… She pulled it out, put it on the floor and opened it.

"Oh my gods!"

Sharon stared into the trunk.

"Oh my gods," she repeated.

Seven of the twelve timers were gone. She still stared into the trunk. "Where are the others?" she whispered. She had number 7 in her hand which meant six timers... Six possible bombs…

Sharon couldn’t believe it. What could someone want with six bombs? And what about the one in her bag? Had she herself… No! Only a… a Cylon agent would’ve stolen timers to build bombs and she wasn’t a Cylon. She wasn’t! But if anyone find out about this… They would believe she was a Cylon agent: a collaborator of a bunch of Toasters responsible for the genocide of mankind. They would kill her. They would throw her out of the next airlock.

What should she do? Who could she talk to?

* * * * * *

Sharon walked down the hallways of Galactica. She tried to behave like she always did. She greeted other crewmembers, or stepped aside if some deckhands brought some big piece of equipment along, but her right hand was clamped tightly around the belt of her duffle bag. Her smile was a mask but fortunately everybody around her was too busy with their job and no one noticed it.

Her mind was in a whirl. It was a set-up! Someone wanted her to turn out to be a traitor. Someone had drugged her to cause the blackout and had soaked her just to make her look suspicious. And the same unknown person had put that bomb in her bag. She would find them and then she would beat the shit out of them and when she'd finished she would ask them ‘why’.

Sharon reached the pilots’ quarters. Slowly she walked in and peered around. No one was there. She jogged through the room and opened her bag. She grabbed her wet uniform and stuffed it into the laundry container. This evening it would be taken to the launderette and there wouldn’t be any evidence anymore. She closed the top of the container and walked to her locker. She couldn’t do much to dry her boots without causing suspicion. Sharon put the boots in her locker and the duffle bag under her bed.

She breathed deeply, exhaling loud and long to try and relieve some of the tension. So far so good, she thought. Now she could do some private investigation. She would talk to the Chief about that. They were lovers, they trusted each other. Tyrol would hear her out and wouldn’t call for security immediately.

* * * * * *

As Sharon walked to the hangar deck everyone around her was in a hurry. The President was expected in a few minutes and Commander Adama wanted his ship in perfect condition; as perfect as possible under the circumstances.

Sharon entered the hangar and spotted Tyrol working on a raptor with some of his crew. "Uh, excuse me, Chief? A word with you, please."

"Yes, Sir. Just one second." He handed the spare part he was holding to an assistant. "You know what? Just do it." He turned back to Sharon, his face a mask of professionalism. Even if his crew knew about his relationship with Lieutenant Valerii he couldn’t show any signs of affection in public. "What’s up?"

"Got a problem." Sharon looked over her shoulders. As long as someone could hear them she couldn’t speak openly.

Tyrol could see that Sharon was nervous. She fidgeted, her eyes twitched from one corner to the other as if searching for an escape route. Just as he opened his mouth a deckhand walked by and he raised his voice to come up with a cover story. "Well, yes, Sir. Lieutenant, I believe the navcon modules are ready for inspection."

As the deckhand was out of earshot he grabbed Sharon by the arm and led her away into the tool room. Tyrol closed the bulkhead and led Sharon to the back. Between some shelves he turned and faced her. "Whatever it is, whatever it is, we’re gonna take care of it, okay? All right? Now, tell me what happened. What’s going on?"

Sharon hesitated for a moment. What if she had misjudged the Chief? Could she trust him? But who else could she trust in this? She looked him in the eyes. "There are, at this moment, six G-4 detonators missing from the small arms locker on deck 15." There! It was out. No way back.

"What are you telling me for? Munitions go missing; you gotta go tell the master-at-arms, right now."

"I know that!"

"Sharon, you can’t screw around with stuff like this…"

"I’m not screwing around, okay? The only reason I didn’t tell anybody is because they’re gonna think I’m the one who took them!"

Tyrol closed his eyes and breathed heavily, and then he took Sharon by her shoulders and looked her in the eyes. "Okay, sweetie. Tell me what happened from the beginning."

Sharon tried to calm down. Tyrol would help her; together they would find a solution. She told him the whole story, from the moment she regained consciousness in the storage room.

"I took the one detonator from the duffel, replaced it, and then went back to my quarters," she ended.

Tyrol thought for a moment. The whole story was… was unbelievable. If he hadn’t known Sharon that well he would’ve assumed she was a traitor, a Cylon agent. But… Not Sharon. He knew her, he loved her. She couldn’t be a… "Well, ah... you know what? You know what? It’s not your fault. Someone’s obviously setting you up to take the fall for something, that’s what it is. I mean, you wake up somewhere, you don’t know how you got there or anything. You’re drugged or manipulated. Or who knows what, something."

Sharon sighed. She had been right. Tyrol drew the same conclusion from the facts as she did. She wasn’t a traitor. "What do we do? ‘Cause if I report what’s happened, they’re gonna think I’m a Cylon agent."

"No, they’re not; no, they’re not. No, no, no, why would they think that? That’s crazy."

"People are getting crazy, okay? You’ve heard the rumours: Cylons who look like humans, sleeper agents hiding in the fleet…"

Suddenly the floor shook. Sharon and Tyrol grabbed the shelves for support. The klaxons blared. A voice came over the speaker system. "Condition red! Condition red! All hands to stations."

They looked at each over for a moment then Tyrol stormed out of the storage room. Sharon was right behind him. While Tyrol ran into the hangar Sharon aimed for the bulkhead to the hallway. It wasn’t a battle alarm so she had to go to the pilots’ briefing room for further instructions instead of her raptor.

"Okay, guys let’s…" she heard the Chief yell then she was out.

As she arrived at the briefing room some other pilots were already there. She looked around, greeted some of her comrades and finally sat down in her usual place on the first row. Now all they could do was wait.

* * * * * *

"So, now you know all there is to know." Captain Adama, callsign ‘Apollo’, stood at the desk in front of the pilots. The son of Commander Adama was the CAG of Galactica. As Commander Air Group he had informed them about the damage and the subsequent loss of every drop of water from the port-bow water tanks. The pilots looked at each other, they knew what that meant: rationing! Everyone in the military was used to it and trained for those situations. But the civilians? The water recycling systems aboard Galactica were 100% effective. Not a single drop would be wasted and so Galactica was the most important source of fresh water for the fleet. A fleet of some dozen ships in a state from a luxurious star liner like Cloud 9 to a heap of scrap like… like some of the older ships. Crammed together on all those ships were the 45,000 and some survivors of mankind. With the loss of the port-bow water reserves of Galactica the fleet would run out of water before the recycling systems could produce new reserves.


"S-Sir?" Sharon was startled.

Captain Adama frowned at her. "You will support Chief Tyrol’s examination team from the outside. Take off in 15."

"Yes, Sir."

"Dismissed." The Captain ended the briefing. Immediately the pilots started to discuss this new crisis. Sharon heard the words "Cylon agents". She fled the room. Now she knew why the mysterious unknown had drugged and soaked her. She was to be set up for this. If someone had caught her in the storage room in her wet uniform she would had been under suspicion for bombing the water tanks. Sharon knew that the saboteur had had to dive in the water tank to get to Galactica’s outer hull. Only there could a self made bomb cut through the ship’s hull armour from inside the ship.

As she headed down the hallway towards the hangar Sharon straightened her shoulders. She would find out who did this to the ship and to her. With the help of the Chief she would find out.

* * * * * *

Seventeen minutes later Sharon was hovering in her raptor right in front of the cut in the ship’s hull. She waited for the Chief’s team to enter the tank.

"CIC, this is DC One. We’re entering the tank." Tyrol’s voice suddenly filled her headset. Sharon leaned forward a little and could see the flashlights in the tank. Tyrol and his men entered carefully, wearing EVA suits.

Petty Officer Dualla from CIC answered Tyrol. "Roger that, DC One.

Tyrol looked around. The tank was a mess. Whoever had done this did a really good job, he thought sarcastically. It would take a long time to repair this. He saw the floodlight from Sharon’s raptor and looked up. "Raptor 478, it’s DC One. I have you in my sights."

"Copy that, DC One. I have you in sight, too."


"How’s it look in there? Can you tell what happened?" Sharon was glad about the helmet. So her ECO sitting next to her couldn’t see her face at this moment.

"Lieutenant, don’t worry." Shit! Tyrol thought. This sounded much too personal and everyone was listening over the com. "About my team..." He corrected himself in a hurry. "I got things under control."

"Copy that, DC One. I feel better knowing you’re on it." She turned to Crashdown, her Electronic Countermeasures Officer. He was watching her with a questioning and curious look. "Watch the light, you’re off target," Sharon hissed and Crashdown turned back to his instruments.

Tyrol stood in the tank and watched his team. He especially looked out for metal pieces which could damage the EVA suits.

Suddenly Specialist Cally reported, "Chief, take a look at this."

Tyrol walked over to her. Cally knelt near a wall, holding some piece of metal.

"What do you got?" Tyrol asked.

"Not sure. It looks like burn marks from an explosive."

Tyrol took it from her and inspected it closely.

"What do you think?" she asked him.

He saw it. Everyone with the slightest knowledge of metallurgy would be able see it. "It’s, um... tough- tough to tell, it’s pretty rusted out."

The Chief took the piece with him and walked away. Cally stared after him. She couldn’t believe that the Chief had overlooked the signs of deforming caused by an explosion. Maybe he was under a lot of stress, she thought, shrugged and returned to the heap of pieces she had to inspect.

Cylon-occupied Caprica

It was night on Caprica. No stars could be seen because the sky was overcast with thick dark clouds. It had been raining for a couple of days and it was a cold rain. It seemed the former jewel of the Twelve Colonies, the Capital Planet of the Republic, cried for its slaughtered population.

Lieutenant Agathon, codename ‘Helo’, was lying in the grass on a slope, peering over the ridge. He had learned to ignore the rain, the wet and muddy ground and the itching of the damp clothes he’d been wearing now for ten days. He hadn’t had the opportunity to take them off since he’d stayed behind to give his pilot, Lieutenant Valerii, the chance to take away one more civilian in their raptor and bring them to the safety of Galactica.

He’d been on the run ever since and a few days ago he’d been captured by two Cylon Centurions. They had brought him to… Well, he didn’t know. It had been an astonishing blonde woman. But was it a Human collaborating with the Toasters or… or was it a Cylon in Human form? Helo didn’t know and he hadn’t had the time to think about it. Suddenly Sharon had appeared. She had shot the two Centurions and the blonde and since then both of them were on a run again.

He had wondered how Sharon had managed to come back but till now she hadn’t answered his questions. He looked at the raptor, using Sharon’s binoculars. It should have been their ticket from this planet but now half a dozen or more Centurions were examining the shuttle.

"Well, they found your raptor," he said.

"A few or a lot?" It didn’t matter, she thought. Getting off the planet now wasn’t part of the plans they had in store for the Human.

"That’s what you get for coming back for me."

"Frak!" She had to play her role and fortunately she knew the Human language as well as any Human. They had an astonishing amount of swear words and ‘frak’ she liked the most. Boomer sighed deeply like she would have done if she really had been disappointed.


"I was sure they didn’t track me coming in."

"I know." Helo was feeling down. He had already imagined a hot shower and twelve hours of undisturbed sleep after a hot meal aboard Galactica.

Boomer looked at Helo. She didn’t like the weather as well and understood how the Human at her side would feel right now. "I set the jiggers to pulse.

"I’m sure you did."

Sarcasm, Boomer analysed. "I didn’t set off any detection grids, any DRADIS sweeps, pingers..."

"Never send a pilot to do an ECO’s job."

"I can do your job." Good, she thought. The Human is getting very fast from sarcasm to resignation. So she hadn’t to talk him out of an attack in order to retrieve the raptor.

"Well, I guess that’s why the Toasters are crawling all over our ride outta here. I don’t suppose we have a plan B".

Yes, she thought, that was it. "Plans B, C, D and E are the same as plan A: get off the planet and get back to the ship. Come on." She pulled him away. They had to walk for at least two hours before they would reach the prepared camp.

"Where’re we going?"

"Don’t ask questions, just follow your pilot." This Human was extremely easy to ‘pilot’, she thought, inwardly grinning as she crawled down the slope.

"Yes, Sir." Wow, he thought as he followed her. He knew she had guts but suddenly she showed qualities of a natural born leader.


Tyrol left the conference room. He had given his report to the President, the Commander, Colonel Tigh, Dr. Baltar and Captain Adama. There were some advisors and guards in the room as well. So at least a dozen people had heard what he’d had to say. There was nothing to hide. The evidence was obvious. The water tank had been bombed.

All he could do now was to steer the investigation in a certain direction. Away from Sharon until they had the real saboteur. They had to catch him as soon as possible because he had still one timer. Tyrol didn’t dare to think about what the saboteur would blow up the next time. Maybe the reactor?

He walked down the hallway. He had to find out what the master-at-arms knew. Sergeant Hadrian had started an investigation about who could’ve entered the small arms locker. Hopefully no one had seen Sharon there bringing back the timer she had found in her duffle.

As he reached the corner he looked back at the now closed bulkhead of the conference room. What would they discuss in there? Then he was around the corner heading down the hallway.

* * * * * *

After the conference Captain Adama headed towards the pilots’ briefing room. Before they could hunt down the Cylon aboard Galactica they had to find water. That it was a Cylon and not a Human traitor working for the Toasters was for sure. The man his father had killed on Ragnar Station had been a Cylon in Human form. The Toasters would never trust a Human traitor with a job like sabotaging the Galactica – if these machines knew something about trust. Only the President, his father, Colonel Tigh, Dr. Baltar, three Marines and himself knew with certainty that Cylons in Human form truly existed.

In the briefing room he chose five raptor crews to search the five nearby planetary systems for water and led them to the hangar deck. Captain Adama spoke a few words with each crew, to ensure they recognised the importance of the mission. On several ships they were dealing with the first riots for water. He spoke to Sharon and Crashdown last.

"It’s a critical mission, Boomer. We already have fights breaking out on some ships over water rations. There’s panic in the air. You don’t find water out there and find it soon…"

"I understand, Captain. We’ll find it." She spoke with a firm voice and looked her C.A.G. right in the eyes. It was expected from a soldier going on an important mission. And this was a chance to get away from the ship for a few hours. Maybe she would be the one who would find the water. Then no one would believe she was involved in the bombing in any way.

"Good hunting." Adama greeted her and went down the raptors wing. "Hey, Chief"

"Captain. Lieutenant." Tyrol greeted his superiors. He wanted to check Sharon’s raptor for himself.

"Chief," she answered. They walked around the raptor for a quick inspection. "I feel like my head’s about to explode," Sharon whispered.

"Just relax, calm down. Focus on the mission; we’ll take care of everything when you get back." The last thing he wanted to happen was some accident because of Sharon’s nervousness.

"What about the investigation?"

"Master-at-arms is running it but don’t worry, there’s no connection to you. In fact, there’s no reason to believe you had anything to do with it at all."

"I didn’t." Her belly itched. The Chief couldn’t really believe that she had anything to do with it, could he?

"I know." Tyrol tried to calm her down again. She had misinterpreted his words, he thought. She was really on the edge.

"I would never do something like that. Never." She stared at him. Anger was building up in her but she couldn’t make a scene right here.

"Sharon, I know."

"It’s really important you believe me on this. You do believe me, right?" She needed him to believe her; she wanted him to trust her.

"Absolutely." Tyrol looked at her intensely and focused on her eyes. His eyes said that he believed her. As a deckhand walked by he abruptly snapped to attention. "Yes, Sir!"

"Thank you, Chief. Carry on," she replied after a moment

Raptor 478

Sharon flew her raptor through the system they were assigned to. She had worked out a course to scan every planet, moon and asteroid in the most effective way. Even at the Academy her flight instructors had admired her talent for mathematics. Sometimes it seemed she could render a course faster in her head than the computer could. Now they approached the first nameless moon.

"Beginning DRADIS 1 sweep..." Sharon announced.

"Beginning DRADIS 2 sweep. So, I’m thinking that we should give this lovely little rock of nothing a name. I’m thinking... ‘Kimiko’," Crashdown said.


"After a lovely little lady in a lovely little city in a lovely little colony that I used to know." After the attack Crashdown had searched in the lists of survivors hoping that at least one of his ‘little ladies’ had made it. He had found no one.

"Whatever..." Crashdown’s love life was the last thing Sharon wanted to think about right now.

Sharon blinked. There was something… something like a dark shadow in the corners of her eyes. She shook her head. She couldn’t deal with passing out right now.

"Nothing," Crashdown sighed after a couple of minutes. "And you?"

Sharon still stared at her instruments. This dark cloud around her eyes seemed to become thicker and thicker. She blinked again and shook her head. She couldn’t give in to this whatever it was. Not now. The fleet depended on her.

"Hey, Boomer?" Crashdown looked at his pilot. He had noticed that she had behaved oddly in the last hours.

"Oh!" Sharon again tried to blink the cloud away. "Nothing. I got nothing."


"Yeah." Sharon activated the engines and set a course for the next moon.

After a couple of hours they had checked the whole system and were heading towards the last moon.

Crashdown stared at his console. "Still nothing and... more nothing.

Sharon looked at her monitor. Something blinked but… she couldn’t recognise it. There was this darkness around her… it was so dark and… cold… Sharon blinked again. She couldn’t recognise what her console showed her. Maybe… Maybe it was nothing… "I got nothing here, either."

"Well, then that’s it. Five moons, five zeroes. I’m getting thirsty just thinking about it. I hope somebody else has more luck out there," Crashdown said resignedly. Another raptor crew had to have more luck. If not…

"Yeah..." Sharon felt this dark cold place again. She doesn’t want to be there. She had… she had to concentrate. The fleet depended on her; the Commander depended on her… She couldn’t let them down…

"What’s on your mind, Boomer?" Crashdown’s voice cut into her fight against the dark.

Crashdown depended on her too, she thought.

"I don’t know. I have this feeling... Let’s run that last sweep again."

"You’re the boss. Beginning sweep 21..."

"Beginning sweep 22..." Yes, she thought, the darkness drew back…

"I’m getting nothing again, how about you?" Crashdown was clearly frustrated.

"I… I’m having trouble saying it." The darkness came back… What if she gave in? What if she closed her eyes? Just for a second. A second couldn’t harm. If she closed her eyes she could rest… rest peacefully because she had fulfilled her destiny. She would go back home… But… Galactica was her home now… Sharon tried to concentrate, she couldn’t and she wouldn’t pass out right now.

"What do you mean?" Crashdown asked after a few seconds.

"I think I see..." She put her right hand back on the console. She thought she had touched something between her seat and the cockpit wall to her right, something… that would let her rest and sent her home at the same time… No, she couldn’t go back to Galactica, not before she had found water. Water? There was water! Right in front of her. "Oh, I have positive contact, yeah!"

"What do you mean?" Crashdown jumped from his seat and looked over Sharon’s shoulder at the instruments. There it was! "Oh... Whoo! Yeah! Good call, Boomer! Whoo!"

Sharon was... relieved. They had found water, they could go home. And… and the dark cloud around her eyes was gone… Maybe she should talk to the doctor about this near pass out?

"Let’s go home," she murmured but Crashdown, still whooping, didn’t hear her. Sharon programmed the FTL jump back to the fleet and turned around. "Hey!" She smiled at Crashdown, happily dancing in the back of her raptor. "Crashdown, sit down. We’re jumping back."

"Oh! Yeah!" He fastened his seat belt and Sharon turned back to her instruments and pushed the button to initialise the jump sequence. The drive hummed to life and the raptor vanished.

Shortly after it appeared near Galactica and Crashdown was on the com to report the good news. "Galactica, Crashdown. DRADIS sweeps indicated it’s time to break out the swim trunks because we found water. Repeat, positive water contact!"

Through her headset Sharon could hear the CIC crew cheering. A second later Commander Adama was on all channels. "Attention, this is the Commander. We have found water."

Sharon tried to relax her stiff neck. She rolled her head and by chance she looked between her seat and the cockpit wall to her right. Her stomach became an icy lump. The last bomb! It was right there. All the time Sharon had almost been sitting on it. No. It couldn’t be true… But it was; it was. Crashdown, she thought; if he found out… Sharon looked straight ahead out of the cockpit. Slowly her right hand touched the bomb. She reached for the timer and switched it off.

Cylon-occupied Caprica

Boomer and Helo sat under a couple of trees. Despite the endless rain they had managed to start a fire. Boomer knew that the branches around here were prepared with chemicals. They would even burn on the bottom of an ocean. The place was a totally innocuous set up. Helo hadn’t recognised it. She opened a little metal box with two syringes in it. She didn’t need the anti-radiation meds but had to make the illusion perfect. Boomer stabbed the needle in her neck. Cylons could deal with much more radiation than Humans, at last with certain kinds of radiation. But in her opinion they had overdone it with the nuking of Caprica. Before the attack it had been a lovely planet.

"Sharon, careful with that needle. We’re running low on anti-radiation meds," Helo said watching her.

She put the box aside and took a ration from Helo. She had to admit that she liked some of the Human food, ice cream or coffee. These rations she definitely didn’t like. But at least it was hot, thanks to the fire. The cold rain drove her crazy.

"Not really mom’s home-cooking," Helo joked.

"Yeah? Beats eating grass and leaves." She had eaten these in fact. It was part of her training to pretend to be an officer of the Colonial Fleet. But she hadn’t liked it.

"We’ll be cooking up a fine meal of twigs and moss by the end of week." Helo tried to lighten the mood and obviously he succeeded because Sharon smiled at him.

"You spoil me." Boomer smiled. As she slurped the… whatever it was from the spoon she blinked. She had reacted without thinking. Helo’s joke had made her laugh. Really laugh. She had to watch out. She couldn’t let her guard down like this again.

"Can I ask you something, Sharon? Why’d you come back for me?" At last, Helo thought, now they had the time to talk. Till now Sharon had blocked all questions due to their running.

"I hate to fly alone." Yes, Boomer thought. It went like they had planned it. Step by step. She could only hope he would believe her story.

This answer didn’t satisfy Helo. "C’mon... you disobeyed orders; flew back into this hellhole... I mean, not that I don’t appreciate it but... why?"

Now she could build a connection to this Human, she thought. Now she could show him that there could be more between them than just comradeship. Step by step. "I just couldn’t leave you behind. Let’s leave it at that."

Helo was baffled. Sharon was his superior officer and she risked everything for him… Not only returning to Caprica, by doing that she’d disobeyed orders. For him…

Suddenly Helo’s emergency com crackled to life. Surprised, he looked at it. During the first days he had tried to catch some signal but there had been nothing and now… "It’s Colonial Fleet’s signal. I… I can’t decode it but it means there’s someone."

Boomer looked at the com as well. Faking excitement she grabbed Helo’s arm. Step by step, she thought. Now they could go to a much more comfortable place. And now Helo would be the one who led her; she wouldn’t cause any suspicion. "Someone in the military is still somewhere live and kicking here in Caprica." She laughed and as Helo moved forward she reacted immediately and fell in his arms. "Yes," she moaned.

Boomer still held her arms around Helo, pressing against him. She was soaked to the skin and felt cold but where her cheek touched Helo’s she could feel his warmth. It felt good to be held by this Human, she thought.

Their embrace lasted much longer than Helo had expected. Sharon felt good… Finally they separated. He looked at her for a moment and the way she returned his look... If he hadn’t known better he would’ve thought that… No, this couldn’t be. She was his superior and she was with the Chief. But Sharon had held him much longer as could be explained with her relieve that there was someone else on Caprica… He turned away. "Now all we have to do is find them."

Boomer turned back to her ration. Step by step, she thought.


Sharon had landed the raptor and it was rolled to its parking position. The hangar crew and the pilots gathered around the raptor, cheering her and Crashdown as they left the vessel.

Captain Adama shouted over the cheering: "Way to go, Boomer!"

Cally was right beside him. "Nice work, Sir."

Adama patted her on the shoulder. "Nice job, let’s get you debriefed."

"Yes, Sir." Sharon couldn’t deal with the crowd at the moment. She had to get rid of the bomb. Tyrol appeared at her side. "Chief... could you take a look at my ejection pyros? I think there’s a short or something."

"Yeah... Cally…"

"No, Chief, if you could take a look at it yourself," Sharon cut him off. She could only trust the Chief in this.

Cally looked back and forth between them. Till now Lieutenant Valerii had never refused Cally to work on her raptor. She shrugged. She began getting used to the Lieutenant’s odd behaviour.

Tyrol nodded and went back to the raptor. He climbed in and bent over Sharon’s seat. He stopped dead. The last bomb…

* * * * * *

Sharon had waited in their usual storage room. The Chief entered and wrapped her in his arms. She kissed him deeply. She felt safe in his arms. She was relieved beyond words. The water crisis was over, no one knew about her involvement. It was over. "Hey... that is just what I needed."

"Oh, yeah." Tyrol saw for a moment his lover returning but then the fear took over again.

"Did you find the detonator?" Sharon asked worriedly.

"Yes, I did, I gave it to the master-at-arms."

Sharon panicked. "What?!" She couldn’t believe it. How could he? If Sergeant Hadrian found out…

Tyrol tried to calm her down. It was obvious Sharon was upset. "Hey? No, no. I told her I found it during maintenance. Listen, calm down. This is the best way to go about this, okay? Look, that puts them on the same trail that we’re on, doesn’t raise any suspicion to you."

This wasn’t what she wanted to hear. She wanted it over.

"Listen," he tried again. "Hey, hey, hey... trust me on this, Sharon. I’m not gonna let anything happen to you, okay?"

"Okay, yeah." What else could she do? There was no one she could trust in the way she trusted the Chief. She let him take her in his arms. It felt good. Everything would be okay.

"Don’t worry, sweetie." Tyrol tried again to calm her down.

"I better go," she finally said. She couldn’t be with him right now and, to be honest, she didn’t want to.

"Okay," Tyrol answered and left the storage room right behind her.

Sharon walked down the hallway. She wasn’t a Cylon agent, she thought. She felt relieved and happy. Tyrol believed in her; she could trust him. His idea of pretending that he had found the bomb during maintenance wasn’t that bad. She wasn’t a traitor. She knew for sure. She knew…

The lights in the hallway seemed to be darker as usual, she thought…

She knew what she had to do. She was on a mission…