Title: Word for Word
Chapter One: The Damage is Done
By: ellymelly
Archive: yes - but ask me first.
Disclaimer: I only own what you don't recognise, everything esle is owned by its recognised owners.
Now we pray to you. You cannot equal the gods, your children know that, bending at your alter. But we do rate you first of men. PRIEST - OEDIPUS THE KING
Paragraphs in italics are flashbacks.
"Status people? I need to know where we are." The Admiral turned to the lieutenant in expectation of an answer but was met with little more than fear and confusion.
"I'm sorry sir, we're just-" his speech was broken as another bolt exploded into the ship, his feet sliding beneath him, "-just holding sir."
"What about the rest of the fleet?"
"Almost gone sir, every ship has now executed the emergency jump sequence, except for Colonial One."
This, this was why he didn't believe in negotiating with the enemy. He wasn't quite sure how, but it always turned out bad. Whether it be a direct or indirect result of the action - it was none the less the case that some things should not be resolved with words. Believing that they could be was a childish and suspended hope. Adama paused, contemplating the argument he would face had Roslin been present for that stream of conscience.
Another severe hit jolted him back to reality, "Bring up their report, quickly!"
"Yes sir." The lieutenant responded to the Admiral's urgency, flicking through screens despite nearly losing his footing with each deafening blow the ship absorbed into its rusting interior. Miscellaneous pieces of equipment started to shake themselves loose, suspended low enough to become obstacles in the chaos. Through his ships' walls, far from view, was the hoary hull of Colonial One succumbing to hundreds of Raiders. It had to be that ship didn't it - it always seemed to be that one.
"Get the President out of here, that's an order." The lieutenant faltered at the request.
"I'm sorry, but, how sir?" President Laura Roslin was aboard her ship, there was no way to mount a rescue mission in their current position, and if their circumstance didn't change drastically, soon they would be the ones in need of rescue. "Admiral, we have to go. She won't keep it together any longer."
"Five more minutes, I need five more minutes."
"Sir, in five more minutes I'm afraid you won't have a fleet."
"Dammit. Provide cover for them."
"We're already doing that, but there's not enough of us to protect two ships. Sir," the young man renewed his urgency, "we must go now."
"Excuse me Admiral, we've lost Colonial One from our radar."
"They made the jump?" It wasn't really a question he wanted an answer for.
"We're checking but there's no indication of a jump. Their jump drive has been playing up for days, it was only matter of time until -"
"I asked you a question."
"No, sir. Sensors indicate a large, localized explosion in their area."
"Gaeta, what are you saying."
"That a focused, possibly internal explosion from the-"
"No, what are you saying?"
"She's gone sir, we lost the ship."
The Admiral's hands wound their way over the edge of the table, his mind willing its metal to cut into his skin and relieve some of the pain. His Lieutenant stood waiting for the order, the Admiral turned his head, looked him in the eye - and gave it.
> > >
"Admiral?" Laura half jogged down Battlestar's corridor trying desperately not to drop the dozen or so folders she was clutching in front of her. It seemed as if the Admiral didn't hear her - or was doing his very best to avoid their meeting on housing relocation scheduled for around about now. "Admiral, it's no use now, I can see you already."
Adama brought his pace to a stop, furrowing his eyebrows. He turned in time to see her catch up and extended several billion folders towards him.
"What's this?" he tried to ask as innocently as possible. She was not impressed.
"You know very well what it is."
He untangled his eyebrows dutifully and proceeded to glance over the headings which seemed to loosely relate to a topic he had spent the last four days avoiding. "Housing?" he said brightly, hoping she'd ignore the fact that she had to chase him down a corridor.
"Don't think I don't know when you're avoiding me."
"I wasn't avoiding you, I was avoiding this." He hinted to the paper pile.
"Nice try." Defeated again. Damn that woman. If there was one thing the Admiral knew, it was when to accept defeat.
"Punishment?"
"Two hours, your office - monetary decision." Her arms were still folded - as sure sign that she was determined not to be meddled with. In other words, there was absolutely nothing he could do now.
"Fine, can we stop for coffee?"
Although the President rolled her eyes, she more than welcomed the suggestion and the two proceeded down the corridor chatting happily despite it all.
> > >
"Admiral, we've arrived at the jump location, the remainder of the fleet is accounted for."
Adama allowed his eyes to close for the briefest of moments - enjoying the quiet of the darkness. It was his own voice that broke it first, "And what sort of shape are they in?"
"They're good sir." Gaeta said so much more than that - Adama nodded. "Some of the last ones to leave sustained damage but they still have a few more jumps in them. Pegasus lost several Vipers - but the fleet will hold."
"Thank you Lieutenant." Gaeta, barely in control of his own despair, took the care to acknowledge his commander.
Everyone had people they cared about on board that ship, not least of all, the Admiral.
"I'm sorry sir." Adama nodded so subtly that had Gaeta not been watching him as intently, it would have slipped past unnoticed.
"That'll be all Lieutenant."
"Yes sir." he said as he returned his attention back to the ships hovering safely on his screen.
The Admiral released his grip on the table's edge and motioned to one of the officers at the door. As the officer approached Adama noticed a dark smear across the man's neck leading down toward his collar where - just above its edge he could see a glint of metal.
"Yes sir."
"Get Baltar in here at once."
"Yes sir."
"One more thing." The young man turned back around, clearly feeling a sharp pain in his neck. "Get that checked out."
"Yes sir."
> > >
"Oh come on, I know you find this interesting." Laura shifted in the leather couch as Adama closed another folder.
"Why do we even bother doing this?"
"As much as I might like to think of myself as Lord Supreme Ruler of the fleet - I still need your signature on this." She pushed the next file toward him before they both broke into a rare moment of laughter.
> > >
Bill smiled.
"Commander?"
-and the moment was gone. "Yes, what is it?"
"Baltar is here."
"Of course, thank you."
Baltar - about to become the human race's most powerful person. For the second time in one week, Adama found himself fearing for the future of humanity.
"Admiral?" Adama greeted Baltar as he crossed the floor - not failing to notice certain details of his appearance out of place. "What's going on? They came out of nowhere."
"Baltar, I have called you here to inform you that Colonial One has been destroyed by the last Cylon attack. All aboard, including the late President Laura Roslin, how those words stung are missing presumed killed. This information makes you the new President of the Colonies and this ship Colonial One. Welcome aboard, Mr. President."
Baltar stood in a state of semi shock. All eyes in the room had now come to settle on himself and the Admiral as they stood becoming the men they had been trained to be. To nobody's surprise, the Admiral's stance had not changed, it was strong, and his gaze unrelenting. It was important for him to build every barrier possibly in order to survive the long day ahead. Baltar, on the other hand, came across as if he were consumed by an internal conversation - his eyes darting to the air above his shoulder and then back at the Admiral's unchanged face. Finally Baltar seemed to reach some kind of agreement and he straightened up - took the Admiral's outstretched hand and shook it firmly.
"Thank you Admiral."
> > >
"No, absolutely not a chance."
"You can't mean that."
Bill sized Laura up. "Of course I mean that."
"Whether you like it or not, Pegasus is a large ship - larger than yours I might remind you, and in light of that surely you can see how their requirements might be more than you anticipated."
"I thought we were here to talk about housing." Laura looked at him sternly.
"Well, we are. But this is an issue than needs to be addressed sooner rather than later."
The Admiral found himself acting like Bill - allowing his eyes to fall on things he probably shouldn't.
"Are you even listening to me?"
That snapped him out of it. "Huh? Ah - yes?" Laura narrowed her eyes. "I mean... No."
She was about to launch into a fully rehearsed lecture in regards to the importance of political parties listening to each other when Edward, her new adviser, knocked briefly before entering.
"Edward?"
"Madame President, Admiral sir - sorry to interrupt but it's urgent." Edward's clean shaven head was dotted with beads of perspiration, some of them already making the journey down the front of his face where they were wiped away.
"Well yes Edward, go ahead."
Edward moved closer to his President but directed the message to them equally, "A Cylon ship has just arrived in the system."
"Have they dispatched a squadron yet?"
"No sir."
"No sir?"
"Admiral..." Laura spoke intending to calm the man already on his way to his feet.
"No sir, the Cylon vessel has shown no signs of aggression and has arrived alone."
"I don't understand why we haven't ended its existence yet?"
"They sent a message, to you sir and you ma'am. They want to talk about peace."
> > >
Peace, a pointless and costly experience. What a waste of life.
"Sir, it's the President. He's waiting for you."
"The press?"
"They're assembled and waiting." Adama took a deeper breath then he meant to, the excess oxygen lightening his head.
"I'll be there in a minute."
"Of course." The officer backed out of Adama's office and shut the door discreetly leaving Adama alone once again.
On his desk sat a haphazard pile of folders, their 'lean to' threatening to send them toppling into a strategically placed bin. He took them down and tapped them on his desk, straightening the pile out, before replacing them in a safer location - then, very slowly, he removed one at random and opened it. And there was her signature, next to his - one of the last pieces of evidence of her existence. One of her last moments.
He rested the folder on the top of the pile, retrieved the pen she had used from his desk and kept it safely in his pocket. He was now ready to face the rest of the world.
> > >
The Admiral and the President entered the bridge at lightening pace, Edward trailing somewhere behind.
"Would someone like to tell me what's going on?"
"Admiral."
"Colonel Tigh, care to fill me in?"
"One Cylon ship entered our space about six minutes ago and sent out a radio transmission informing us that it meant no harm and wished to speak with both yourself and the President."
"They're Cylons Tigh, we don't negotiate with murderers. Order a squadron to destroy it immediately. Every moment it's here the fleet is put at risk."
"Yes sir."
"Wait." Roslin stepped forward, "You can't just destroy it."
"Why not?"
"Admiral, the Cylons are asking to talk. Shouldn't we at least spend more than a few seconds considering this? Technically we should take this information back to the council so that they can-"
"They can what? Look Madame President the safety of this fleet is a military decision. That ship out there threatens the lives of not just you and me but every member of the human race."
"I understand that. That's why I think you should ask the fleet to go to an emergency jump. A team of negotiators should be assembled to assess the sincerity of this proposal."
"Oh yes, and who would volunteer for such a suicide mission?"
"I would."
"No you won't. That is an unacceptable risk."
"Admiral, we are talking about the possibility of peace. Peace!"
"We're talking about an ambush and I am not going to see you walk straight into it."
"This is a political decision Bill!"
"You're not going Laura!"
The two of them locked horns, each standing their ground without any indication of backing off. Colonel Tigh approached cautiously.
"Sir, I need a decision. The fleet are getting anxious."
Adama didn't let his eyes stray from the President. He hated that there was an element of her argument that he wanted to agree with. He was tired of running, hell; they were all tired of running. She was probably right. She was usually right.
"Fine. Tell the fleet to ready themselves for an emergency jump, and put Battlestar and Colonial One standby."
"Yes sir."
"Thank you Admiral." Adama looked at Roslin who had relaxed a little. This was far from over.
"We need to talk."
> > >
Admiral William Adama subconsciously fiddled with the object in his pocked - gently letting it fall from side to side, its smooth surface undisturbed except for the fine engraving at its edge.
Admiral it said.
"Admiral?"
Adama whipped around to find Baltar, pacing quickly toward him.
"I was under the impression that you were already there Mr. President."
"Well, I was - but, I needed to get this first." Baltar extended an envelope. "It's for you," he continued as Adama restrained from taking it, "from the President - I mean," he paused again, "Roslin."
The fact that Baltar seemed to genuinely grieve for the President renewed a small hope in Adama, and he took the envelope - though postponed its reading to a later date.
"Thank you Mr. President."
"Please, don't call me that."
"As you wish Doctor."
Adama stepped aside to allow Baltar to proceed first - which the man did after a strange glance and small stumble attributed to reasons Adama couldn't even begin to comprehend."
> > >
"So we're agreed then." President Roslin addressed the assembly, "One team, three people. The Cylons send one representative and we convene on the neutral planet of Ackros. No weapons for either side." The assembly gave a general mutter of agreement - the Admiral was not so convinced.
"Madame President."
"Admiral Adama?" she said, turning to the man sitting beside her.
"I think that it is very unwise to send anyone down there unarmed - these are Cylons, one armed guard at least."
"Admiral, this is supposed to be an act of goodwill-"
"To hell with good will, they want to talk, fine. But we don't send anyone down there without protection."
"Are those your conditions then?"
"Yes, they're my conditions." It was clear to her that in this he would not be moved - so she gave in.
"So be it. Edward, send the message."
"Yes ma'am."
> > >
Adama could hear the press long before he saw them. Vultures - swarming to feed over their collective asses.
"Nervous?"
The Admiral turned to face Baltar - slowly for effect.
"Well, It's not like I thought you'd be - I just thought I'd, you know, check."
> > >
As soon as the council agreed to send Laura as the last member of the negotiating team, Bill knew this was not just a bad idea, but a VERY bad idea. By the time the message had been sent and agreed to, he decided to confront her on the issue.
When he finally managed to make it aboard Colonial One and navigate his way to her quarters it was already 'morning'. He knocked quietly. She was defiantly still awake, he could hear her shuffling paper about and the light creeping out from under her doorway was a dead give away.
The noise halted when she heard the knocking.
Bill waited at the door - strangely nervous.
She could take a reasonable guess at who was at her door at this hour, she'd been half expecting it for the last hour or so. In this though, she was determined. The only way the Cylons would come to this peace talk was if she was present, and so that is how it must be.
He was fiddling when she opened the door - caught off guard. Not the way he had hoped to start this meeting.
"Admiral... I was expecting you."
"You were?" he tried desperately to lift his gaze. Mercifully he managed - not that it helped much.
"Please, come in."
> > >
"Admiral." Adama and Baltar both stopped and turned to find Colonel Tigh flying down the corridor.
"Colonel, what's going on this time?"
"Sir, it's the Cylons again."
"Well, have you sent the Vipers yet?"
"No sir."
Adama looked about in disbelief. What was with his crew and the 'no sirs'. "There better be a good reason."
"They're asking to speak directly to you sir. They," Tigh stopped himself short, not sure himself of what to make of his next statement, "they say they have the President on board. And sir - they say she's alive."
To be continued...