Categories > TV > Battlestar Galactica > Boomer's Ghost
Boomer’s Ghost
I do not own Battlestar Galactica or Quantum Leap
Chapter 2: “I recently discovered that I am a Cylon”
Battlestar Galactica - Brig
“Lieutenant, what are you doing here?” asked the guard.
“Open one of the cells, I’m about to have a prisoner for you,” ordered Boomer.
The guard flipped the switch and a cell door opened. Boomer stepped in and looked around.
“Yeah, this will do nicely.” said Boomer.
.
.
“Now I need to use your phone,” commanded Boomer.
The guard allowed her to pick up the receiver. It looked like an old fashioned telephone receiver and was connected to an operator that would manually connect calls, just like they did in the distant past, in the Colonies.
“Get me C&C,” Boomer told the operator. “I need to talk to the Old Man.”
“C&C,” answered Colonel Saul Tigh.
“Colonel, this is Boomer. I need to speak with the Commander.”
“We’re a little busy right now, what, with the Cylons finding us every 33 minutes,” replied Tigh.
“I think I know how to stop that,” replied Boomer. “Please . . . . let me speak to the Old Man.”
There was a pause before a familiar voice said: “Adama here.”
“Commander, I’m in the brig, now,” said Boomer. “After we finish this conversation, I’ll go to my cell.”
“What have you done?” asked Commander WiIliam Adama.
“I’ll get to that,” replied Boomer. “The important part is: I know how the Cylons are tracing us.”
“I’m listening,” said Adama.
“The Cylons have placed at least two trackers in the fleet;” explained Boomer. “The first one was placed in C&C by Arron Doral.”
“We found and removed that one,” replied Adama. “Where’s the other one?”
“It’s in the Olympic Carrier,” replied Boomer. “I’m not sure if there are still any humans aboard her. If there are, there might be someone who has proof that Baltar caused the computer fault that allowed the Cylons to disable our fleet. You could send some marines to board it and find out or just blow it out of the sky. It’s your call.”
“And how did you come by this information?” asked Adama.
“I recently discovered that I am a Cylon,” replied Boomer. “I’ll be going to my cell now. When you feel it’s safe, come down here and visit. I have a lot more intelligence to share.”
Boomer hung up the phone to see that the guard had drawn his weapon on her. She put her hands in the air.
“It’s all right. I’m not resisting,” soothed Boomer. “I’m going to step into that cell. But first, you are going to take my sidearm from me.”
The guard slowly reached for her pistol, pulled it out of the holster and set it down on the table behind him.
“That’s it,” soothed Boomer. “Nice and easy . . . Now, I’m going to step into my cell and you’re going to lock me in.”
“Don’t I need to pat you down first?” pointed out the guard.
“After I’m safely locked up, I’ll let you strip search me so you can be sure I don’t have any concealed weapons,” offered Boomer.
Still holding her hands up she walked into the cell. After she heard the door lock, she turned to face the guard.
.
.
“If Grace Park can do it in a studio full of people, I can do it front of one guard,” Boomer told her ghost.
“Who’s Grace Park?” asked the guard.
“An actor,” explained Boomer. “You’ve never heard of her.”
She then began removing her uniform a piece at a time and handing it through the bars to the guard so he could search each item. When she started pulling off undergarments he said:
“Shouldn’t I get a female guard for this part?”
“It’s alright,” soothed Boomer. “This is no different than you seeing me in the head when I step out of the shower.”
Once she had stripped completely, she turned around so he could see she had nothing else and bent over to spread her cheeks so he could be assured she had no concealed weapons. Once this was done, he handed her back her clothes.
“Thanks!” said Boomer as she took her clothes and started folding them.
“Aren’t you going to put them on?” asked the guard.
“No,” replied Boomer.
.
.
It was hours later and several more jumps before the Commander came down to the Brig with another squad of marines to join the squad that had arrived while she had ben waiting. She had spent her time alternating between laying on her cot and pacing while having arguments with herself. She was still naked and her uniform was sitting just outside the cell, neatly folded. She could easily reach it if she wanted, but she had made no effort to.
“You’re out of uniform,” observed Adama.
“Am I?” asked Boomer. “That’s the uniform of a Colonial Warrior. Am I still one, or am I a Cylon Prisoner of War?”
“You came down here, gave me intelligence, then locked yourself in this cell,” said Adama. “My guards say you’ve been having arguments with yourself. Why should I think you are anything other than pilot who cracked under the pressure of the End of the World? What makes you think you’re a Cylon?”
“I didn’t until recently,” explained Boomer. “I thought I was Sharon Valerii, from Canceron. But shortly after I got back from Caprica, I was invited to a meeting of the Cylons that are on board this ship. At the end of the meeting I was ordered to forget the meeting ever happened. But somehow I was able to resist my orders and retained my memory.”
“So there are more Cylons on my ship and you know who they are?” mused Adama. “Was Doral really a Cylon?”
“Yes, and there is another one on this ship as we speak,” said Boomer. “Another Arron Doral, that is. He’s too well known so he will try to take someone important with him when he gets caught.”
“He’ll take someone hostage?” asked Adama.
“No. Suicide,” explained Boomer. “See, the most important thing you need to know about Cylons is: that they have the ability to download into a new body when their old one dies. Because of this, we shouldn’t execute any Cylon prisoners until just before we jump. And it one gets accidentally killed or suicides, we need to jump immediately.”
“I’ll take that under advisement,” replied Adama.
“So, I take it since we stopped jumping, that the Olympic Carrier has been dealt with?” asked Boomer.
“It’s standard procedure not to share intelligence with prisoners,” replied Adama. “You know that. Can you at least put some underclothes on?”
“My model doesn’t wear clothes unless there is a reason,” replied Boomer. “Being a Colonial Warrior would be a reason to wear them. But those clothes are all Colonial issue. If you can accept me as a Cylon who is a loyal member of this crew, I’ll put on that uniform, walk out of this cell and resume my duties. But if I’m a Cylon prisoner, then I will dress like a model Eight Cylon.”
“Model Eight?” asked Adama. “You said you were a model Eight. How many models are there and who are they?”
“Technically, there are twelve models,” replied Boomer. “But practically, there are only seven.”
“Which ones are aboard this ship?” demanded Adama. “Who are they?”
“There’s a priest on board named Brother Cavil,” revealed Boomer. “He’s a model One Cylon. He’s the leader of the Cylons onboard Galactica and he might be the leader of all the Cylons. I’m not sure. You met a model Two, Leoban, on Ragnar.“
Adama nodded at that. “And the model Three?”
“That reporter: D’Anna Biers, is a model Three Cylon,” reported Boomer. “There’s a med tech named Simon who’s a model Four. I think we could turn him to our side. Arron Doral was a model Five and there’s another one of him roaming the ship as we speak. There’s two model sixes: One is a whore that our marines smuggled aboard. The other is a blond woman named Shelly Godfrey.”
“And the Sevens?” asked Adama.
“There are no Sevens,” replied Boomer. “Something happened between One and the first Seven, who was called Daniel, I believe. One may have killed his entire line and erased our memories of it.”
“And you’re a model Eight?” asked Adama.
“Yes,” replied Boomer. “I’m a model Eight Cylon, but I’m utterly loyal to the Colonial cause. I’m pretty sure other Eights might defect if given the chance. You should treat us like enemy humans. Some of us are willing to defect. But most of us are enemy combatants and should be treated as such.”
“That’s the seven practical models,” said Adama. “What about the others?”
“There are five more,” said Boomer. “And they’re from Earth. . . . You see, the 13th Tribe, they were Cylons. That’s why they didn’t travel with us to the 12 Colonies. They started their own Colony on Earth. Then, just like on Kobol, they made their own Centurions, enslaved them and just like on Kobol, the slaves rebelled. There were only five survivors and Cylons call them the Final Five. They traveled to the Colonies and met our Centurions. In exchange for ending the war, they gave the Centurions human form Cylons, like me, and resurrection technology, so we can download if we were ever killed.”
“If the Cylons were supposed to make peace, what went wrong?” asked Adama.
“One did,” explained Boomer. “The original model One. And I think the One who calls himself Brother Cavil might be him. He was the One who killed all the model Sevens, re-enslaved the Centurions, and erased our memories of the Final Five. He even gave us a mental block against discussing them or seeking them out. He led the vote to restart the war after you sent Bulldog into Cylon space. He’s still alive by the way. They’re keeping him prisoner until a moment arrives when releasing him will cause the most chaos for the Colonial Fleet.”
Adama looked shaken that she knew about Bulldog and that he might be still alive. He changed the subject: “What do you know about Gaius Baltar’s role in the fall of the Colonies?”
“He had a girlfriend that wanted into the Colonial mainframe so her company would have inside information,” explained Boomer. “But she was actually a model Six Cylon. Roslin saw them together once, but didn’t know what she was seeing. After the Cylon attack began, Six revealed to Baltar what she had done. So he knows how guilty he is.”
“What about the Final Five?” asked Adama, as he came back around to it. “Do you know who they are?”
.
.
“Why not?” asked Boomer, who turned her head to address her ghost.
.
.
“Boomer?” asked Adama.
“They have a right to know who and what they are just like a I did!” yelled Boomer, who had turned to face her invisible friend.
.
.
.
“Sharon?” asked Adama.
“But you did!” screamed Boomer. “And now I’m going to prove my loyalty to the Colonies by making sure the truth gets out!”
“Lieutenant Valerii!” yelled Adama, who was trying to get her attention back from her obvious hallucinations.
“I can tell you who the Final Five are,” said Boomer. “But It’s going to hurt you. Some of them are people you know and trust. But you need to understand that they’re like me, a couple of days ago. They don’t know they’re Cylons.”
“Who?” asked Adama.
“There is only one copy active of each of the Final Five at any particular time,” explained Boomer. “Cavil erased their memories and placed them in the Colonies to suffer the same fate as the humans that they had forced him to make peace with.”
“Who?” ordered Adama.
“And if you kill them, they’ll be back in Cavil’s hands,” added Boomer. “And he’s hiding their very identities from the other Cylons.”
“WHO!?!” demanded Adama.
“Sam Anders,” replied Boomer.
“The pyramid player?” asked Adama.
“That’s the one,” confirmed Boomer. “His team was in the mountains doing high altitude training. So now he’s organizing a resistance on Caprica.”
“Who else?” demanded Adama.
“Ellen Tigh,” replied Boomer.
“Saul’s wife?” asked Adama.
“She’s somewhere in the fleet right now,” said Boomer, as she nodded. “Sooner or later she will seek him out.”
“Who else?” ordered Adama.
“The President has an aid named Tori Foster,” explained Boomer. “She’s loyal to Roslin and doesn’t know she’s a Cylon.”
“Who are the other two?” demanded Adama.
“They don’t know they’re Cylons,” explained Boomer. “They’re completely to loyal to you, just like I am.”
.
.
“He has a right to know!” yelled Boomer, when she turned to her ghost and yelled at him.
“WHO ARE THEY!?!” demanded Adama.
“Galen Tryrol!” yelled back Boomer.
“My Deck Chief?” asked Adama.
“Yes, replied Boomer.
“The one you are having a secret affair with that the whole ship knows about?” asked Adama.
“That’s the one,” replied Boomer, sadly.
“And the last one?” asked Adama, who seemed to be humoring her.
“Saul Tigh,” replied Boomer.
“ . . . Now, you’ve overstepped yourself,” said Adama. “You are quite obviously insane.”
.
.
“Yes, yes, I know, you told me so,” grumbled Boomer at what looked like, to Adama, was thin air. “But he had a right to know.”
“Even if I did believe any of this, what proof do you have that any of them are Cylons?” asked Adama.
.
.
Turning away from her ghost, Boomer answered Adama: “Anything that can’t be told from a human by a simple X-ray and a blood test is, in fact, human. Cylons are living beings with cybernetic implants. The biological parts of us is human. I’m so human I could make a baby with a human and it would be completely human. So I’d probably be able to pass most blood tests. But the cybernetic implants are another matter. They should show up on an X-ray, at least the larger ones should. I’ll bet the resurrection implant in my brain is pretty big. It’ll probably be easy to see on an X-ray.”
“I’m not subjecting innocent people to radiation on the say-so of a madwoman,” growled Adama, as he started to walk away.
.
.
“Arron Doral!” shouted Boomer, after turning to Al for an instant. “If there’s another him on board, then you know at least some of what I’m saying is true!”
Adama just walked out, taking most the marines with him.
I do not own Battlestar Galactica or Quantum Leap
Chapter 2: “I recently discovered that I am a Cylon”
Battlestar Galactica - Brig
“Lieutenant, what are you doing here?” asked the guard.
“Open one of the cells, I’m about to have a prisoner for you,” ordered Boomer.
The guard flipped the switch and a cell door opened. Boomer stepped in and looked around.
“Yeah, this will do nicely.” said Boomer.
.
.
“Now I need to use your phone,” commanded Boomer.
The guard allowed her to pick up the receiver. It looked like an old fashioned telephone receiver and was connected to an operator that would manually connect calls, just like they did in the distant past, in the Colonies.
“Get me C&C,” Boomer told the operator. “I need to talk to the Old Man.”
“C&C,” answered Colonel Saul Tigh.
“Colonel, this is Boomer. I need to speak with the Commander.”
“We’re a little busy right now, what, with the Cylons finding us every 33 minutes,” replied Tigh.
“I think I know how to stop that,” replied Boomer. “Please . . . . let me speak to the Old Man.”
There was a pause before a familiar voice said: “Adama here.”
“Commander, I’m in the brig, now,” said Boomer. “After we finish this conversation, I’ll go to my cell.”
“What have you done?” asked Commander WiIliam Adama.
“I’ll get to that,” replied Boomer. “The important part is: I know how the Cylons are tracing us.”
“I’m listening,” said Adama.
“The Cylons have placed at least two trackers in the fleet;” explained Boomer. “The first one was placed in C&C by Arron Doral.”
“We found and removed that one,” replied Adama. “Where’s the other one?”
“It’s in the Olympic Carrier,” replied Boomer. “I’m not sure if there are still any humans aboard her. If there are, there might be someone who has proof that Baltar caused the computer fault that allowed the Cylons to disable our fleet. You could send some marines to board it and find out or just blow it out of the sky. It’s your call.”
“And how did you come by this information?” asked Adama.
“I recently discovered that I am a Cylon,” replied Boomer. “I’ll be going to my cell now. When you feel it’s safe, come down here and visit. I have a lot more intelligence to share.”
Boomer hung up the phone to see that the guard had drawn his weapon on her. She put her hands in the air.
“It’s all right. I’m not resisting,” soothed Boomer. “I’m going to step into that cell. But first, you are going to take my sidearm from me.”
The guard slowly reached for her pistol, pulled it out of the holster and set it down on the table behind him.
“That’s it,” soothed Boomer. “Nice and easy . . . Now, I’m going to step into my cell and you’re going to lock me in.”
“Don’t I need to pat you down first?” pointed out the guard.
“After I’m safely locked up, I’ll let you strip search me so you can be sure I don’t have any concealed weapons,” offered Boomer.
Still holding her hands up she walked into the cell. After she heard the door lock, she turned to face the guard.
.
.
“If Grace Park can do it in a studio full of people, I can do it front of one guard,” Boomer told her ghost.
“Who’s Grace Park?” asked the guard.
“An actor,” explained Boomer. “You’ve never heard of her.”
She then began removing her uniform a piece at a time and handing it through the bars to the guard so he could search each item. When she started pulling off undergarments he said:
“Shouldn’t I get a female guard for this part?”
“It’s alright,” soothed Boomer. “This is no different than you seeing me in the head when I step out of the shower.”
Once she had stripped completely, she turned around so he could see she had nothing else and bent over to spread her cheeks so he could be assured she had no concealed weapons. Once this was done, he handed her back her clothes.
“Thanks!” said Boomer as she took her clothes and started folding them.
“Aren’t you going to put them on?” asked the guard.
“No,” replied Boomer.
.
.
It was hours later and several more jumps before the Commander came down to the Brig with another squad of marines to join the squad that had arrived while she had ben waiting. She had spent her time alternating between laying on her cot and pacing while having arguments with herself. She was still naked and her uniform was sitting just outside the cell, neatly folded. She could easily reach it if she wanted, but she had made no effort to.
“You’re out of uniform,” observed Adama.
“Am I?” asked Boomer. “That’s the uniform of a Colonial Warrior. Am I still one, or am I a Cylon Prisoner of War?”
“You came down here, gave me intelligence, then locked yourself in this cell,” said Adama. “My guards say you’ve been having arguments with yourself. Why should I think you are anything other than pilot who cracked under the pressure of the End of the World? What makes you think you’re a Cylon?”
“I didn’t until recently,” explained Boomer. “I thought I was Sharon Valerii, from Canceron. But shortly after I got back from Caprica, I was invited to a meeting of the Cylons that are on board this ship. At the end of the meeting I was ordered to forget the meeting ever happened. But somehow I was able to resist my orders and retained my memory.”
“So there are more Cylons on my ship and you know who they are?” mused Adama. “Was Doral really a Cylon?”
“Yes, and there is another one on this ship as we speak,” said Boomer. “Another Arron Doral, that is. He’s too well known so he will try to take someone important with him when he gets caught.”
“He’ll take someone hostage?” asked Adama.
“No. Suicide,” explained Boomer. “See, the most important thing you need to know about Cylons is: that they have the ability to download into a new body when their old one dies. Because of this, we shouldn’t execute any Cylon prisoners until just before we jump. And it one gets accidentally killed or suicides, we need to jump immediately.”
“I’ll take that under advisement,” replied Adama.
“So, I take it since we stopped jumping, that the Olympic Carrier has been dealt with?” asked Boomer.
“It’s standard procedure not to share intelligence with prisoners,” replied Adama. “You know that. Can you at least put some underclothes on?”
“My model doesn’t wear clothes unless there is a reason,” replied Boomer. “Being a Colonial Warrior would be a reason to wear them. But those clothes are all Colonial issue. If you can accept me as a Cylon who is a loyal member of this crew, I’ll put on that uniform, walk out of this cell and resume my duties. But if I’m a Cylon prisoner, then I will dress like a model Eight Cylon.”
“Model Eight?” asked Adama. “You said you were a model Eight. How many models are there and who are they?”
“Technically, there are twelve models,” replied Boomer. “But practically, there are only seven.”
“Which ones are aboard this ship?” demanded Adama. “Who are they?”
“There’s a priest on board named Brother Cavil,” revealed Boomer. “He’s a model One Cylon. He’s the leader of the Cylons onboard Galactica and he might be the leader of all the Cylons. I’m not sure. You met a model Two, Leoban, on Ragnar.“
Adama nodded at that. “And the model Three?”
“That reporter: D’Anna Biers, is a model Three Cylon,” reported Boomer. “There’s a med tech named Simon who’s a model Four. I think we could turn him to our side. Arron Doral was a model Five and there’s another one of him roaming the ship as we speak. There’s two model sixes: One is a whore that our marines smuggled aboard. The other is a blond woman named Shelly Godfrey.”
“And the Sevens?” asked Adama.
“There are no Sevens,” replied Boomer. “Something happened between One and the first Seven, who was called Daniel, I believe. One may have killed his entire line and erased our memories of it.”
“And you’re a model Eight?” asked Adama.
“Yes,” replied Boomer. “I’m a model Eight Cylon, but I’m utterly loyal to the Colonial cause. I’m pretty sure other Eights might defect if given the chance. You should treat us like enemy humans. Some of us are willing to defect. But most of us are enemy combatants and should be treated as such.”
“That’s the seven practical models,” said Adama. “What about the others?”
“There are five more,” said Boomer. “And they’re from Earth. . . . You see, the 13th Tribe, they were Cylons. That’s why they didn’t travel with us to the 12 Colonies. They started their own Colony on Earth. Then, just like on Kobol, they made their own Centurions, enslaved them and just like on Kobol, the slaves rebelled. There were only five survivors and Cylons call them the Final Five. They traveled to the Colonies and met our Centurions. In exchange for ending the war, they gave the Centurions human form Cylons, like me, and resurrection technology, so we can download if we were ever killed.”
“If the Cylons were supposed to make peace, what went wrong?” asked Adama.
“One did,” explained Boomer. “The original model One. And I think the One who calls himself Brother Cavil might be him. He was the One who killed all the model Sevens, re-enslaved the Centurions, and erased our memories of the Final Five. He even gave us a mental block against discussing them or seeking them out. He led the vote to restart the war after you sent Bulldog into Cylon space. He’s still alive by the way. They’re keeping him prisoner until a moment arrives when releasing him will cause the most chaos for the Colonial Fleet.”
Adama looked shaken that she knew about Bulldog and that he might be still alive. He changed the subject: “What do you know about Gaius Baltar’s role in the fall of the Colonies?”
“He had a girlfriend that wanted into the Colonial mainframe so her company would have inside information,” explained Boomer. “But she was actually a model Six Cylon. Roslin saw them together once, but didn’t know what she was seeing. After the Cylon attack began, Six revealed to Baltar what she had done. So he knows how guilty he is.”
“What about the Final Five?” asked Adama, as he came back around to it. “Do you know who they are?”
.
.
“Why not?” asked Boomer, who turned her head to address her ghost.
.
.
“Boomer?” asked Adama.
“They have a right to know who and what they are just like a I did!” yelled Boomer, who had turned to face her invisible friend.
.
.
.
“Sharon?” asked Adama.
“But you did!” screamed Boomer. “And now I’m going to prove my loyalty to the Colonies by making sure the truth gets out!”
“Lieutenant Valerii!” yelled Adama, who was trying to get her attention back from her obvious hallucinations.
“I can tell you who the Final Five are,” said Boomer. “But It’s going to hurt you. Some of them are people you know and trust. But you need to understand that they’re like me, a couple of days ago. They don’t know they’re Cylons.”
“Who?” asked Adama.
“There is only one copy active of each of the Final Five at any particular time,” explained Boomer. “Cavil erased their memories and placed them in the Colonies to suffer the same fate as the humans that they had forced him to make peace with.”
“Who?” ordered Adama.
“And if you kill them, they’ll be back in Cavil’s hands,” added Boomer. “And he’s hiding their very identities from the other Cylons.”
“WHO!?!” demanded Adama.
“Sam Anders,” replied Boomer.
“The pyramid player?” asked Adama.
“That’s the one,” confirmed Boomer. “His team was in the mountains doing high altitude training. So now he’s organizing a resistance on Caprica.”
“Who else?” demanded Adama.
“Ellen Tigh,” replied Boomer.
“Saul’s wife?” asked Adama.
“She’s somewhere in the fleet right now,” said Boomer, as she nodded. “Sooner or later she will seek him out.”
“Who else?” ordered Adama.
“The President has an aid named Tori Foster,” explained Boomer. “She’s loyal to Roslin and doesn’t know she’s a Cylon.”
“Who are the other two?” demanded Adama.
“They don’t know they’re Cylons,” explained Boomer. “They’re completely to loyal to you, just like I am.”
.
.
“He has a right to know!” yelled Boomer, when she turned to her ghost and yelled at him.
“WHO ARE THEY!?!” demanded Adama.
“Galen Tryrol!” yelled back Boomer.
“My Deck Chief?” asked Adama.
“Yes, replied Boomer.
“The one you are having a secret affair with that the whole ship knows about?” asked Adama.
“That’s the one,” replied Boomer, sadly.
“And the last one?” asked Adama, who seemed to be humoring her.
“Saul Tigh,” replied Boomer.
“ . . . Now, you’ve overstepped yourself,” said Adama. “You are quite obviously insane.”
.
.
“Yes, yes, I know, you told me so,” grumbled Boomer at what looked like, to Adama, was thin air. “But he had a right to know.”
“Even if I did believe any of this, what proof do you have that any of them are Cylons?” asked Adama.
.
.
Turning away from her ghost, Boomer answered Adama: “Anything that can’t be told from a human by a simple X-ray and a blood test is, in fact, human. Cylons are living beings with cybernetic implants. The biological parts of us is human. I’m so human I could make a baby with a human and it would be completely human. So I’d probably be able to pass most blood tests. But the cybernetic implants are another matter. They should show up on an X-ray, at least the larger ones should. I’ll bet the resurrection implant in my brain is pretty big. It’ll probably be easy to see on an X-ray.”
“I’m not subjecting innocent people to radiation on the say-so of a madwoman,” growled Adama, as he started to walk away.
.
.
“Arron Doral!” shouted Boomer, after turning to Al for an instant. “If there’s another him on board, then you know at least some of what I’m saying is true!”
Adama just walked out, taking most the marines with him.
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