Title: Program Reboot - Addendum
Author: ennyousai
Rating: PG-13 - some very light smut (we're talking very light)
Pairing: Kirk/McCoy (sort of)
Summary: Continuation of the BSG/STXI crossover that started with Downloaded and continued in Program Reboot. The last story was in Jim's POV, but I felt that there were some gaps on Bones' side that needed to be filled in.

You don't need to be familiar with BSG to read this series, but reading the previous two stories would be helpful.

Sincere thanks to nursedarry for the beta, and dancinbutterfly for being indispensable with plotting out the overall world that this verse is coming to inhabit (and making sure I get my Star Trek canon straight), since my small, cute little plot bunny has morphed into a giant, carnivorous were-rabbit.







The Cylons view the world through projection, imposing what they see in their mind's eye on their physical surroundings. McCoy (and he is Leonard McCoy; he can't think of himself as anything else even though the others just call him Seven, or occasionally Enterprise Seven) is grateful for the ability. Kobol is by no means a beautiful planet. It's cold and dry, and it's dominant colors are dull shades of brown and gray. The climate doesn't affect them much - they'd improved on the human constitution when they made the leap to human form - but the scenery is not exactly conducive to mental well-being. McCoy prefers to see himself in a lazy Georgia afternoon in late spring, looking out across lush green fields to toward the Blue Ridge Mountains off in the distance.

In the beginning he tries to project himself onto the Enterprise. It makes him terribly homesick, though, so he doesn't do it very often, and after a while his memories of the ship have gotten so confused that it's difficult to visualize it at all. It's frustrating because there are times when he can remember it so clearly - Sulu's fingers dancing over the controls as he takes them into warp; Uhura's intense face as she translates a message; Scotty running his hands affectionately over the ship's generators - but there are times when he feels like he's looking at a backwards reflection in a distorted mirror, and he's only aware that something in him is missing.

He feels fractured, or like he's a dissonant third imposing on an otherwise beautiful melodic line.

Cylon culture is based on unity. The human models might have their own unique minds, but any individual opinions are expected to come second to the good of the group. They are expected to work as a single cohesive unit, making group decisions according to Number. McCoy understands this, but still has trouble reconciling himself to it. He knows that the others can see that he isn't one with them the way they want him to be, and that's a problem. Even the Twos might be strange, but at least they are coherent among each other, and McCoy is an anomaly even within his own Number.

He thinks that he wants to integrate. These are his own people, after all, and if his old life is lost to him, he needs to make the most of the new one. He doesn't want to be Boxed, doesn't want to be isolated and alone.

Well. He's not alone, not exactly. He has Jim. Sort of.

He showed up a few months after McCoy downloaded, just appeared out of nowhere and walked alongside him under the blue Georgia sky. McCoy stopped and stared at him. He'd never attempted to bring Jim into his projections, and there was no way that another Cylon could have entered his vision without his doing. There was no logical explanation for Jim's presence, but it was undeniably him, all blue eyes and gold hair, full of vitality and beauty.

"Jim," he said dumbly. "How'd you get here?"

"You need me," said Jim, just as brash and cocky as ever. His smile was broad and easy, and seeing it made something in McCoy's chest hurt. "You're in trouble, you know. The others know that you don't fit in, and the second you slip up they'll Box you, put all your memories in cold storage."

There's no way Jim could know that. Hell, McCoy didn't know that until he woke up on the Resurrection Ship. "What are you?" asked McCoy suspiciously, his eyes narrowed. Jim sidled up against him and wrapped his arms around McCoy's waist.

"I'm here to help you, Bones," he said softly, and McCoy shivered at the feeling of Jim's breath against the shell of his ear. "Just don't let on that you can see me."

Jim's been with him since then. It's strange, because he's so much like the flesh and blood Jim that McCoy remembers (no matter how frayed his memories of everyone else are, Jim's always so clear, shining bright and warm like the sun, and oh, does McCoy miss him), and yet also different. He knows things that the real Jim couldn't, like what vision one of the Threes had during her last download, or how the Ones have rewired themselves so that they no longer need to sleep. He also knows things that McCoy himself doesn't know, and that makes him feel slightly uneasy because it means that this Jim isn't a simple manifestation of his subconscious. He's something else, and McCoy isn't sure what.

No matter what he might be, though, he keeps the loneliness at bay.

McCoy knows that this Jim only exists in his head, but it feels so real when he presses up against McCoy's back and starts pressing kisses along his neck that McCoy can't help but arch his spine and moan. Jim knows everything he likes. He knows that McCoy's collarbone is a sensitive spot, that he likes lots of slow kissing and gentle touching, and that there are times when he just likes to be held in Jim's arms. All of the things that Jim learned over the course of two years together, the Jim in his head knows.

It's also so very typical of Jim that he likes to touch McCoy at times when he really can't be seen in various states of arousal. It's difficult to try and hold a conversation with one of the Fives on whether the developments in human medicine that he's managed to retain knowledge of can be adapted for Cylon use when Jim is whispering filthy things in his ear and running his fingers lightly along the inside of his thigh. McCoy knows that if he starts gasping and moaning for no apparent reason it won't look good for his readjustment process and Jim knows that too, the bastard. It's a good thing that he knows not to make it too intense when McCoy's in public, even though when he's alone Jim kisses him breathless and touches him everywhere until McCoy comes all over himself, loving Jim and wishing that he had Jim in the real world as well.

* * *

When they assemble to determine whether or not to ally with the Federation's enemies, it is Jim who tells him to stand with the other Sevens.

"All of the Numbers except the Twos will vote in favor," says Jim softly as he strokes McCoy's nape reassuringly. "You won't accomplish anything by standing apart from your own Number other than getting yourself Boxed. The Federation as you know it is finished."

McCoy knows all the arguments for Humanity's destruction. Throughout history it has always been eager to wash its hands of its mistakes, always trying to justify genocide and persecution and hatred by claiming that it's for "the greater good", or some other such high-minded reason. Humanity's ugliness is never too far from the surface no matter how much they try to pretend otherwise, and the Cylon part of McCoy thinks that maybe, just maybe, they need to own up to their past.

The human part of him just thinks Jim.

The message to the Enterprise is his compromise between his two identities. He will not stand against his people, but he will give Jim and the Enterprise a chance.

* * *

The attack is a success, of course. The Cylons leave Kobol and move into Federation territory with the Klingons and Romulans (except for Earth, of course; Earth has been destroyed in vengeance for Humanity's enslavement of the Cylon race). McCoy checks the lists of captured and destroyed starships incessantly, and feels a surge of relief when he doesn't see the Enterprise on them, although he's careful not to let it show on his face.

"Checking for your old ship?" McCoy glances up and sees another Seven looking back at him. It's like looking in a mirror, except his reflection has a faint sneer on its lips and its eyes are cold and calculating.

"Careful," murmurs Jim, and McCoy nods imperceptibly.

"The Enterprise is Starfleet's flagship. As such, it's only natural that we take an interest in it."

"Of course." The Seven moves closer and stares down at the list. McCoy feels Jim rest a warning hand lightly on his arm.

"Don't worry, Enterprise Seven," and his counterpart's voice is faintly mocking. "We are aware of your former assignment's technical capabilities and are combing space for its whereabouts. We'll find them sooner or later, and when we do we will deal with them."

McCoy smiles coolly. "I have no doubts on that count."

Their gazes lock for a moment longer, then the Seven turns and leaves. McCoy glances back at Jim.

"They'll find you."

"Eventually." Jim rests his chin on McCoy's shoulder. "But don't you know, Bones, that Cylon society is going to disintegrate after this? It's been easy for you all to maintain unity and consensus isolated on Kobol, where all you had to deal with was your own kind. But now you're moving into the Federation worlds. There are so many different cultures and peoples out there. You're going to be moving out of your safe zone, and you're going to turn into individuals, true individuals. And then your society is going to splinter."

McCoy runs his finger down the list of ships. "How do you know?"

"All I have to do is look at you. You were away from the Cylon homeworld for years, and look what happened. You no longer see the world in shades of grey. You're standing between two worlds, and as a result you can no longer blindly support Cylon doctrine. What do you think will happen when all of you are put in that position?"

Jim's lips press lightly against his neck.

"It's going to be a whole new world."

* * *

The other Seven is right, of course. They find the Enterprise, and they ambush the crew when they land on a fringe planet to scout for supplies. McCoy doesn't know this, though. He doesn't find out until days after it happens, when he's hooked into the datastream examining the specifications for increased resurrection capabilities and happens to come into contact with a file holding the details on prisoner 6785AQ from NCC-1701. McCoy feels his heart stop. He quickly bypasses the security code and stares down at the images of Jim. The real, flesh and blood Jim, looking so vulnerable and lost and in pain.

"They're torturing me," says the other Jim softly. "Or to be more specific, one of the Sevens is. I haven't broken yet, but it's hard, seeing someone with your face inflicting so much pain."

JimJimJim.

McCoy takes a deep breath. "I'm going to get you out of there."

He can feel Jim's breath on the back of his neck. "If you do, they'll see you as a traitor. You'll be Boxed with no questions asked."

McCoy smiles grimly. "You think that matters to me right now? You're in my head. You should know perfectly well that while the Cylons are my people, my first loyalty has always been to you."

* * *

It's easy to get to Jim. Some careful manipulation of the Cylon datastream tells him which basestar Jim is being held on, and he gets himself assigned on a patrol that will take him within range. The second he knows he's safe, he summons one of the mechanical models (and he can truly appreciate the irony of it; the Cylons fought their human oppressors only to develop their own hierarchy once they found their own planet) and gives a single command.

"Execute."

The last thing he sees is Jim smiling at him.

* * *

The second download is easier. This time he knows exactly what's happening, and it only takes seconds for him to adjust to a new body when he wakes up on the basestar. Within minutes he's hurrying through the corridors (and they're not cold and sterile metal; in his eyes he's hiking through the mountain trails of northern Georgia), and when he finally reaches Jim he wants to cry. Jim is dazed and confused and so very hurt, and when he opens his eyes all McCoy sees is fear and pain and anger. McCoy knows that that's to be expected, but it still cuts to the bone.

"Time," murmurs the other Jim against his ear, warm and reassuring, and even though he's looking down at his Jim, McCoy feels a surge of relief that the other one is still with him. "Give me time. Right now we just need to get out of here."

He's right. McCoy grabs Jim and focuses on getting them back to the Enterprise. This is his Jim he's touching, the real one, and just being with him again gives McCoy a surge of strength.

He's found Jim, and he's going to get him to safety. He has to be all right. He has to.

Nothing else matters.




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