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shadowsong26) wrote2011-04-21 12:05 pm
shadowsong26) wrote2011-04-21 12:05 pm
Entry tags:
For Sorrow Sung, Chapter 4
Title: For Sorrow Sung
Fandom: Battlestar Galactica (new series)
Author: shadowsong26
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings/Warnings: For this chapter: Helo, Hughes, Gaeta, Baltar.
Summary: Helo consults with Gaeta about Atia's research; Hughes confronts Baltar with what he's learned.
Disclaimer: All characters are the property of their respective creators.
Note: This is a work in progress. It's possible I'll end up revising and reposting this at some point, but it's largely finished. Thank you for your patience, and any feedback is welcome!
Chapter 4
Fourteen Days Before Gaius Baltar's Trial
Galactica
Helo hadn't been able to find out much from the other girls when he questioned them. They'd all said the same sort of thing as Miss Yates and Miss Nerys had--Miss Reyes was brilliant, reclusive, celibate, and hadn't been working on anything particularly controversial.
Going through Miss Reyes' desk, however, had been interesting, to say the least. As Miss Yates had indicated, Helo had found the romance novel she had been copying--it was called Captive's Passion, and from what he gleaned skimming it, had something to do with pirates. There were a few other half-completed projects on her desk. One was a cheap detective novel he vaguely remembered reading a couple years before, and one was the hundred fifteenth book in a well-known series written for preteen girls, but the third concerned him. It didn't have a corresponding printed book that was being copied from, so it was something of the girl's own creation. It was a letter, describing what looked to Helo like a child's birthday party; addressed to someone called the 'Tower Man.' It wasn't signed.
It was possible, of course, that Miss Yates had been wrong, and Miss Reyes had been attempting an epistolary spy novel or something. Or she might've been writing a coded letter to someone.
He'd also found the research Miss Yates, Miss Nerys and the others had indicated Miss Reyes was getting into. He hadn't been able to decipher much of it; she seemed to have taken one somewhat large sheet of paper and written in, crossed out, substituted, revised, and otherwise altered the formula several times. In addition, the handwriting was so small he could barely make it out.
The investigation had been stalled for a while. He still hadn't managed to find the gun, let alone the shooter, and the motive was still a mystery. There was Miss Yates' seemingly unrequited crush, which might explain the scarring. She couldn't've pulled the trigger herself, as she was shorter than Miss Reyes, and the shooter had been taller, but she was clearly the leader of the Book Girls. It wasn't entirely out of the realm of possibility that she'd arranged it. And if she felt herself romantically betrayed, that might be a possible explanation for the scars. Especially if these coded letters to the 'Tower Man' were to a secret lover.
On the other hand, the previous scarring might've been completely unrelated to the current shooting. He thought that was unlikely, given the low murder rate in the fleet--the chance that two people would hate this girl that much for two seperate reasons was vanishingly small. But, as the only possible explanation he had that took into account both attacks was problematic, he was trying to decipher the paper formula. Any type of new luxury, or a substitute for rare necessities, could well be reason enough to put a bullet in someone. Besides, none of what little he'd been able to learn about Miss Yates and her relationship with Miss Reyes indicated jealousy or frustration anywhere near the level that would explain carving up or trying to kill her friend. If he ignored the scarring as something unrelated, some sort of scientific espionage grown violent made a hell of a lot more sense.
Unless the formula wasn't worth stealing. New paper was, yes, but he had no way of telling whether or not Miss Reyes' design was anywhere approaching workable. Anyone looking to steal it would know one way or the other. Obviously, Helo needed to find that out before he could start looking into the formula as a possible motive.
As soon as he could, he tracked down Lieutenant Gaeta. "I was wondering if I could get you to look at something."
"Sure," he replied. "What's up?"
He handed Gaeta the folded paper. "Does this mean anything to you?"
Gaeta didn't answer right away. He moved over to the wall and completely unfolded the paper, spreading it out so he could see the whole thing and scanned it for a few minutes. "I'm not sure it would work, but it's not far off from it. Supposed to be a writing surface, right?"
Helo nodded. "I was told that it's supposed to be a formula for a paper substitute."
Gaeta nodded and studied the sheet again. "I don't know if it would do what it's supposed to, but it wouldn't take much more modification, and everything used in it is pretty readily available, even now...where'd you get this?"
"The girl who was shot a few days ago had it in her desk."
"I thought she was around sixteen?"
Helo blinked. "Just turned seventeen. Why?"
"This is way beyond what most kids her age could come up with," Gaeta informed him. "I'm not sure I would've thought of some of this--granted, chemistry wasn't ever my specialty or anything, but still."
"I see." He frowned a little. "The main thing I wanted to know was whether or not you thought this would be worth shooting her over."
To that, Gaeta nodded. "Definitely. Either she plagiarized someone else's work, or she really is this smart and someone wanted the formula and she wasn't sharing."
"Thanks," Helo said.
"No problem."
"Captain Agathon?"
Helo turned, to find a Marine waiting to talk to him. "Yes?"
"Major Cottle asked me to find you. He said to let you know that she's awake and you can talk to her now."
Without another word, Gaeta folded up the paper again and handed it back to Helo. "Good luck," he said.
"Thanks." Helo turned and followed the Marine towards sickbay.
~~~
Hughes set his briefcase on the ground and sat down. "We need to talk."
"What about?"
"The girl."
Baltar froze. "I told you, she has nothing to do with--"
He picked up the case, snapped it open, and pulled out the relevant page of Major Cottle's report on the girl's injuries. "Can you honestly look at that and tell me to my face that she's not connected to you in some way?"
The other man stared down at the paper, saying nothing.
"I've told you again and again and again, if you don't tell me the truth, I can't help you. Or her."
"Please leave her alone," he said quietly. "I don't want--" He cut himself off and stared at nothing again.
"Doctor. Focus," Hughes snapped. "Look at me."
It took Baltar a few minutes to tear his eyes away from whatever it was he saw when he stared off into space like that. "All right. All right, I'm focusing. You have my complete attention."
"Who is the girl?" Hughes asked him again.
"She's--" He broke off and looked down at the paper again, picking it up with one trembling hand. "I came for her...she hadn't thought I would, she told me she told them I wouldn't, but I...I couldn't..." He dropped the paper and closed his eyes.
"Just start with who she is, okay?"
Baltar put his head in his hands and finally gave an answer, talking into them so Hughes couldn't actually hear.
"Tell me, not your hands." I sound like a frakking preschool teacher. Gods help us all.
"She's my daughter."
This...shouldn't be surprising. Hughes wasn't sure exactly what he'd been expecting, but for some reason, it hadn't been that. Now he heard it, though, it made perfect sense. Baltar wasn't exactly celibate, but the girl was barely seventeen, and the last time they could've met in person, would have been fairly obviously underage. Even he had standards.
"How long have you known?" Hughes asked after a short silence.
"Since New Caprica." Baltar stared down at the ground. "She was kidnapped. By the Resistance. They contacted me with a ransom demand."
"And you met it?"
"She's my daughter."
"Do you know who was involved?"
He shook his head. "I never saw any faces. And I don't know how many people in total know."
"Why didn't you say something?"
"To keep something like this from happening."
"I see." Hughes leaned back, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Okay. I think secrecy is out of the question now. I'll talk to her; make sure she's comfortable with leaking it."
"What?" Baltar looked up. "No, you can't--"
"She was shot, here on Galactica," Hughes pointed out. "She's been literally branded a traitor, and it's now two weeks until the trial starts. If I managed to put the pieces together, how long do you think it'll be before the people whose job it is to investigate this manage it?"
He didn't have an answer for that.
"It'll go better for everyone if the leak comes from us," he went on, decisively. "I won't do it before preparing her, I promise."
"She won't talk to you."
"Sorry?"
"She's more paranoid about this than I am," Baltar replied. "We've been writing letters, with codenames. Her idea, all of it. She's not going to talk to you sight unseen, even if you are my lawyer."
That could prove to be a problem. "What do you suggest, then?"
Baltar was silent for a brief minute, then dug out a piece of paper and wrote something on it, then folded it and handed it over. "Give this to her. It might get her to open up. But I can't promise anything."
Hughes slipped the note into his briefcase, along with the page of the medical report, and snapped it shut again. "All right."
As he left, he looked back to see his client standing near the bars, watching him go; his right hand was floating about a quarter-inch above his left shoulder. "Keep her safe."
Hughes nodded. "I will. I promise."
Fandom: Battlestar Galactica (new series)
Author: shadowsong26
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings/Warnings: For this chapter: Helo, Hughes, Gaeta, Baltar.
Summary: Helo consults with Gaeta about Atia's research; Hughes confronts Baltar with what he's learned.
Disclaimer: All characters are the property of their respective creators.
Note: This is a work in progress. It's possible I'll end up revising and reposting this at some point, but it's largely finished. Thank you for your patience, and any feedback is welcome!
Chapter 4
Fourteen Days Before Gaius Baltar's Trial
Galactica
Helo hadn't been able to find out much from the other girls when he questioned them. They'd all said the same sort of thing as Miss Yates and Miss Nerys had--Miss Reyes was brilliant, reclusive, celibate, and hadn't been working on anything particularly controversial.
Going through Miss Reyes' desk, however, had been interesting, to say the least. As Miss Yates had indicated, Helo had found the romance novel she had been copying--it was called Captive's Passion, and from what he gleaned skimming it, had something to do with pirates. There were a few other half-completed projects on her desk. One was a cheap detective novel he vaguely remembered reading a couple years before, and one was the hundred fifteenth book in a well-known series written for preteen girls, but the third concerned him. It didn't have a corresponding printed book that was being copied from, so it was something of the girl's own creation. It was a letter, describing what looked to Helo like a child's birthday party; addressed to someone called the 'Tower Man.' It wasn't signed.
It was possible, of course, that Miss Yates had been wrong, and Miss Reyes had been attempting an epistolary spy novel or something. Or she might've been writing a coded letter to someone.
He'd also found the research Miss Yates, Miss Nerys and the others had indicated Miss Reyes was getting into. He hadn't been able to decipher much of it; she seemed to have taken one somewhat large sheet of paper and written in, crossed out, substituted, revised, and otherwise altered the formula several times. In addition, the handwriting was so small he could barely make it out.
The investigation had been stalled for a while. He still hadn't managed to find the gun, let alone the shooter, and the motive was still a mystery. There was Miss Yates' seemingly unrequited crush, which might explain the scarring. She couldn't've pulled the trigger herself, as she was shorter than Miss Reyes, and the shooter had been taller, but she was clearly the leader of the Book Girls. It wasn't entirely out of the realm of possibility that she'd arranged it. And if she felt herself romantically betrayed, that might be a possible explanation for the scars. Especially if these coded letters to the 'Tower Man' were to a secret lover.
On the other hand, the previous scarring might've been completely unrelated to the current shooting. He thought that was unlikely, given the low murder rate in the fleet--the chance that two people would hate this girl that much for two seperate reasons was vanishingly small. But, as the only possible explanation he had that took into account both attacks was problematic, he was trying to decipher the paper formula. Any type of new luxury, or a substitute for rare necessities, could well be reason enough to put a bullet in someone. Besides, none of what little he'd been able to learn about Miss Yates and her relationship with Miss Reyes indicated jealousy or frustration anywhere near the level that would explain carving up or trying to kill her friend. If he ignored the scarring as something unrelated, some sort of scientific espionage grown violent made a hell of a lot more sense.
Unless the formula wasn't worth stealing. New paper was, yes, but he had no way of telling whether or not Miss Reyes' design was anywhere approaching workable. Anyone looking to steal it would know one way or the other. Obviously, Helo needed to find that out before he could start looking into the formula as a possible motive.
As soon as he could, he tracked down Lieutenant Gaeta. "I was wondering if I could get you to look at something."
"Sure," he replied. "What's up?"
He handed Gaeta the folded paper. "Does this mean anything to you?"
Gaeta didn't answer right away. He moved over to the wall and completely unfolded the paper, spreading it out so he could see the whole thing and scanned it for a few minutes. "I'm not sure it would work, but it's not far off from it. Supposed to be a writing surface, right?"
Helo nodded. "I was told that it's supposed to be a formula for a paper substitute."
Gaeta nodded and studied the sheet again. "I don't know if it would do what it's supposed to, but it wouldn't take much more modification, and everything used in it is pretty readily available, even now...where'd you get this?"
"The girl who was shot a few days ago had it in her desk."
"I thought she was around sixteen?"
Helo blinked. "Just turned seventeen. Why?"
"This is way beyond what most kids her age could come up with," Gaeta informed him. "I'm not sure I would've thought of some of this--granted, chemistry wasn't ever my specialty or anything, but still."
"I see." He frowned a little. "The main thing I wanted to know was whether or not you thought this would be worth shooting her over."
To that, Gaeta nodded. "Definitely. Either she plagiarized someone else's work, or she really is this smart and someone wanted the formula and she wasn't sharing."
"Thanks," Helo said.
"No problem."
"Captain Agathon?"
Helo turned, to find a Marine waiting to talk to him. "Yes?"
"Major Cottle asked me to find you. He said to let you know that she's awake and you can talk to her now."
Without another word, Gaeta folded up the paper again and handed it back to Helo. "Good luck," he said.
"Thanks." Helo turned and followed the Marine towards sickbay.
~~~
Hughes set his briefcase on the ground and sat down. "We need to talk."
"What about?"
"The girl."
Baltar froze. "I told you, she has nothing to do with--"
He picked up the case, snapped it open, and pulled out the relevant page of Major Cottle's report on the girl's injuries. "Can you honestly look at that and tell me to my face that she's not connected to you in some way?"
The other man stared down at the paper, saying nothing.
"I've told you again and again and again, if you don't tell me the truth, I can't help you. Or her."
"Please leave her alone," he said quietly. "I don't want--" He cut himself off and stared at nothing again.
"Doctor. Focus," Hughes snapped. "Look at me."
It took Baltar a few minutes to tear his eyes away from whatever it was he saw when he stared off into space like that. "All right. All right, I'm focusing. You have my complete attention."
"Who is the girl?" Hughes asked him again.
"She's--" He broke off and looked down at the paper again, picking it up with one trembling hand. "I came for her...she hadn't thought I would, she told me she told them I wouldn't, but I...I couldn't..." He dropped the paper and closed his eyes.
"Just start with who she is, okay?"
Baltar put his head in his hands and finally gave an answer, talking into them so Hughes couldn't actually hear.
"Tell me, not your hands." I sound like a frakking preschool teacher. Gods help us all.
"She's my daughter."
This...shouldn't be surprising. Hughes wasn't sure exactly what he'd been expecting, but for some reason, it hadn't been that. Now he heard it, though, it made perfect sense. Baltar wasn't exactly celibate, but the girl was barely seventeen, and the last time they could've met in person, would have been fairly obviously underage. Even he had standards.
"How long have you known?" Hughes asked after a short silence.
"Since New Caprica." Baltar stared down at the ground. "She was kidnapped. By the Resistance. They contacted me with a ransom demand."
"And you met it?"
"She's my daughter."
"Do you know who was involved?"
He shook his head. "I never saw any faces. And I don't know how many people in total know."
"Why didn't you say something?"
"To keep something like this from happening."
"I see." Hughes leaned back, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Okay. I think secrecy is out of the question now. I'll talk to her; make sure she's comfortable with leaking it."
"What?" Baltar looked up. "No, you can't--"
"She was shot, here on Galactica," Hughes pointed out. "She's been literally branded a traitor, and it's now two weeks until the trial starts. If I managed to put the pieces together, how long do you think it'll be before the people whose job it is to investigate this manage it?"
He didn't have an answer for that.
"It'll go better for everyone if the leak comes from us," he went on, decisively. "I won't do it before preparing her, I promise."
"She won't talk to you."
"Sorry?"
"She's more paranoid about this than I am," Baltar replied. "We've been writing letters, with codenames. Her idea, all of it. She's not going to talk to you sight unseen, even if you are my lawyer."
That could prove to be a problem. "What do you suggest, then?"
Baltar was silent for a brief minute, then dug out a piece of paper and wrote something on it, then folded it and handed it over. "Give this to her. It might get her to open up. But I can't promise anything."
Hughes slipped the note into his briefcase, along with the page of the medical report, and snapped it shut again. "All right."
As he left, he looked back to see his client standing near the bars, watching him go; his right hand was floating about a quarter-inch above his left shoulder. "Keep her safe."
Hughes nodded. "I will. I promise."