Chapter Text
Felix stood staring at the sky, watching as ship after ship disappeared into space, when he heard someone shout at him.
"Felix!"
Felix turned his head in the direction of where the voice had come from. It was Skulls. Felix couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Skulls. The man had been lucky enough to be one of the few who stayed on Galactica, and completely missed the horrors of living on this planet.
Skulls ran up to him. "Felix, let's go!"
"No, just leave me here," Felix told him. After all this, there was no way Felix could look the Old Man in the eye now. Besides, there was no place for him on that ship anymore.
"We're not leaving anyone behind!" said Skulls, grabbing Felix's arm. "That includes you. Come on, we've got to hurry."
Felix pulled back, but Skulls' grip wasn't loosening. "Please Hamish, let me go," he begged, tugging back. He could have freed himself, but he probably would have ripped Skulls' arm off in the process. He'd rather just have Skulls think that he wanted to die, than tell him he was a cylon. Now wasn't the time.
But Skulls wouldn't take no for an answer, and yanked Felix forward. He took off running for the raptor, and Felix had no choice but to follow. He thought about making a break for it when the reached the raptor, but Skulls never broke his grip, whipping Felix around front and shoving him in the raptor. Then Skulls jumped in and closed the hatch behind him.
"Buckle in everybody," said Racetrack from the cockpit, "we're going home."
Felix was going back to Galactica. He never thought he'd see the ship again, not after New Caprica. He thought he'd be stuck on a base ship for the rest of his life, or end up boxed like Eight. He didn't think he'd be going home. Except, it wasn't his home anymore. Felix didn't know if he even had a home.
"You brought a frakking cylon on board?!"
Felix snapped out of his thoughts. There, sitting next to him, was Colonel Tigh.
Skulls spun towards them in his ECO's chair. "What?"
"I told you to leave me there," said Felix.
With a growl, Colonel Tigh lunged froward and wrapped his hands around Felix's neck. Felix's first instinct was to lock his elbows, roll, and strangle back, like he had learned in basic, or would have if he had been to basic. But to do so would kill Colonel Tigh, so Felix did nothing. Tigh's hands tightened around his neck, and Felix could feel the air being choked out of him.
"Colonel!" ordered Skulls, grabbing Tigh from behind and pulling him from Felix. Felix gasped for air.
"A cylon?" asked Skulls.
"I saw copies of that thing," snarled Tigh, pointing at Felix, "out on the streets, in detention, every day, rubbing it in our faces."
"Well, we can't very well toss him out now. We're already in orbit and don't have enough flight suits for everyone," said Racetrack wryly.
Skulls looked at Tigh, then Felix, then Racetrack. "What are we going to do with him?"
"I suppose we could use another cylon prisoner, now that Sharon's out of the brig," said Racetrack, flipping various switches, not turning back to the people in the hull.
"Sharon's out of the brig?" asked Felix. He'd suspected it would happen some day, once Helo had pestered the Admiral enough. But while the cylons were keeping most of society captive on New Caprica?
"Don't get any ideas," said Racetrack in an icy tone. She never bothered to look away from her console, but from where he was sitting, Felix could see her quaver.
The Raptor landed softly, and the lifts hummed as they brought the bird down to the flight deck below. It reminded Felix of his first day on Galactica, when he'd arrived to report for duty on the ship, nervous and not knowing what to expect. That memory was real. It was one of the first real memories he had.
Usually horns would be honking directing traffic, but the only sound coming from the deck was the low roar of crowds of people. Felix couldn't see any of them, just the bright flourescent lights of Galactica's hangar deck shining through the window of the raptor. It wasn't the same as having a sky overhead, but somehow, they felt warmer than the sun ever could.
The raptor quietly ground to a halt, and Skulls opened the hatch. The roar became clearer now, and Felix could even pick out the voices of a few people he knew among the hundreds that appeared to be crowded on the hangar deck. "Stay here," Skulls demanded, and jumped off onto the ground. He didn't intend to move. Where could he have gone?
Colonel Tigh stood up, too transfixed at seeing his ship again to notice Felix, and limped out of the raptor. Tigh stood on the wing for a while, and Felix watched as he took it all in. "Permission to come aboard Sir," he heard the Colonel say, indicating that the Admiral was nearby.
Felix didn't see the Admiral, or hear what he said to Tigh, but he did see Racetrack get off the raptor, then heard Adama say, "what do you mean you have a cylon prisoner on board?" Felix swallowed, then stood up and approach the open hatch.
Felix could see Admiral Adama standing at the base of the raptor wing. "Mr. Gaeta," he said. Felix wanted to salute, but to do so would have been an insult.
"Sir, that's our cylon prisoner," said Racetrack, leaning in slightly.
"It's true, Sir," added Tigh. "Ask anyone who was down on new Caprica. We saw copies of that thing every day."
"Guards!" barked Adama. Conversation on the hangar deck died down as it always did when the Admiral gave a sudden order. Everyone had stopped what they were doing to turn their eyes to him. The few people in uniform looked confused. Everyone else looked angry.
Two marines squeezed through the crowd to meet Adama. "Take that thing to the brig," he ordered. Felix held out his arms to accommodate a set of handcuffs. The guards stepped onto the raptor wing, slapped the handcuffs on him, and dragged him down to the hangar floor. One of the guards shoved him forward, directing Felix to start moving. The sea of people parted as they walked, making way for the cylon and the two guards. Hundreds of pairs of eyes silently followed him off the hangar deck and out the door.