She had seen him die. The empty pleading of his once grey-green eyes had been etched into the background of all her memories after that day—lost wonder of a soul pleading with life to let it hang on just a little bit longer. And then just like that, he was gone. She couldn't remember when she'd dropped to the ground, when she'd cradled his heavy head in her lap and felt the final squeeze of his fingers before life left him. She had seen him die, and yet he still walked.
Caprica—27 Days Before Invasion
"Colonial Ministry of Defense. How may I direct your call?" Kendra Conoy tapped the back of her pen against the appointment book in front of her, the telephone receiver nestled firmly between her neck and chin. "I'm sorry, Dr. Baltar is expected to be in conference most of the day. Could I take a message for him, or would you like me to forward you to his voicemail?" She glanced up at the sound of footsteps and voices in the entrance hall and took note of Dr. Baltar and the gorgeous blonde assistant who always seemed to be at his arm anymore. "One moment, please while I transfer you." Kendra sent the caller into Dr. Baltar's voicemail service and replaced the telephone. She had only looked away a moment, but in that moment Dr. Baltar's assistant had disappeared, and he strolled toward her desk alone.
"Good afternoon, Ms. Conoy." His warm and charming accent was enough to tickle all the ladies in the office, and while Kendra only had eyes for her husband, she certainly didn't mind the attention the good doctor showed her.
"Good afternoon, Dr. Baltar," she grinned almost sheepishly, feeling the blush of her own inadmission flooding warmly into her cheeks. "Don't you look devilishly handsome this afternoon."
"Flattery, Ms Conoy. . ." he began, shaking his head and clucking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. "Well let me tell you, flattery will get you everywhere with me." He was sharply dressed, in fact so sharply dressed that though he had shed his formal jacket and loosened his tie, Gaius Baltar even made casual look elegant. His finely sculpted features stretched almost mechanically to express delight at her observation. He knew he looked good, he always knew he looked good, but hearing it only confirmed his own suspicions. "I don't suppose you've finally given up on that tired old tradition of marriage to oblige my invitation to dinner, have you, Kendra?"
She laughed easily and brought her hand to rest up under her chin, showing off the diamond that had only been on her finger a few months. "Dr. Baltar, I do declare. You're going to make a dishonest woman of me yet."
"I do try my best," he wagged his eyebrow playfully, his perfect smile accommodating the giddy feeling his presence lent. "I always find it an utter shame to see a pretty girl, such as yourself, go to waste in marriage." And just like that he was able to switch over to business, making the charm of his flirtation all the more intense. "Do you have any messages for me, dear Kendra?"
She rifled through the papers on her desk a moment and produced a stack of messages, "Here you are. And don't forget to check your voice messages, Doctor. You've had half a dozen or more calls that insist they speak directly to your answer phone."
"Thank you, Kendra, I'll check them straight away." He assured her. "Now, I'll be in my office until about three-thirty, but I'd rather not take any calls, if you please."
"No problem, sir."
She watched as he sauntered away from her desk, into the hallway until he was no more than a shadow lengthening on the wall, and thought there was no accounting for taste. She loved her husband, but a man like Gaius Baltar really knew how to make a woman reevaluate herself and her decisions to settle down. She had fantasized about him in the past, young successful, and with not one, not two, but three Magnate Prizes and he was only thirty-one. He was brilliant, a genius unlike any their civilization had seen in centuries. Oh yes, she had fantasized about Dr. Baltar, but she wasn't the kind of girl who was stupid enough to believe she could catch him and teach him how to be faithful. No, her fantasies had been enough, and since she'd gotten married, they were very few and far between.
Line one sounded, snapping her back to reality and the present moment. Kendra could still feel the heat in her face moments later when she lifted the receiver to her ear and said, "Good afternoon, Colonial Ministry of Defense. How can I direct your call?"
"You can direct me to the most gorgeous receptionist in the building." Her husband's soft voice slyly slipped across the lines, increasing the warm rush of blood to her face.
"Leoben," she laughed. "You know I'm not supposed to take social calls on this line. You should have called my mobile."
"I know, but I needed to hear your actual voice, and that mobile of yours always sends me straight to voicemail." He explained. "And I have a bit of a surprise for you."
"Surprise?" There was very little surprise when it came to her husband. Leoben Conoy read like a book to her. He was steady, reliable—even if he did spend most of his nights on strange top-secret missions he couldn't share the details on. He was, on the other hand, romantic in his own right, and from time to time he did manage to astonish her with some never before seen side of himself, a quixotic and reckless side that only ever seemed to emerge when she had lost all hope of ever seeing it again. That side of him had excited her enough to make her want to spend eternity with him. "You know I'm no good with surprises."
"And you know how I love to torture you," he chuckled. "That's why I'm not going to let you in on the surprise until tomorrow morning when I get home."
"Tomorrow morning?" She nearly shrieked in disbelief, but quickly put her tone in check to keep from arousing inter-office suspicion. "You're going to leave me with that now, and not tell me until morning. You are cruel."
"I'm sorry, love. I'm not going to make it home tonight. I got roped into something here, and I can't back out now. It was my own fault."
"Leoben," a soft breath of disappointment cascaded over the mouthpiece of the phone, echoing back at her through the receiver. "A more insecure woman might suspect that her husband was having some illicit affair, you know."
"I know," he almost seemed to shed a soft scoff of laughter. "But you're not insecure, Kendra. You're a rock, and you know in your heart I'm absolutely devoted to only you."
"Yeah, yeah. . . I bet you say that to all of your wives."
"All of my wives?" He really did laugh then. "I can barely handle the one I have now, what makes you think I'd want several of you pulling me in all directions at once? Look, I promised you before we were married that things wouldn't be like this forever, and my promise was real. Things aren't going to be like this forever, Kendra."
"So what am I supposed to do tonight? It's Friday night, Leoben. What kind of girl spends a Friday night alone?"
"A devoted young married girl, that's the kind of girl," he pointed. "Why don't you go ring up your girlfriends and paint the town red. You haven't had a good night out since we got married."
"I suppose I could," she sighed again. "It's just that. . . I don't know. I've rather grown to enjoy spending my Friday nights with you, and I've gotten so used to not sleeping late on Saturdays alone."
"You could wait up for me," he suggested in a soft tone.
A weak smile drew at Kendra's mouth and came through in her reply, "I suppose I could. Maybe I'll rent a movie and invite Samantha over."
"That's my girl."
"Now tell us about this surprise of yours."
Leoben laughed casually, and it lingered for a moment before he said, "Clever, clever, but as I said, you'll have to wait until tomorrow."
"So unfair to lift a girl up like that only to let her fall!"
"Don't worry, I'll catch you before you hit rock bottom," there was a catch of sarcastic appreciation in his assurance. "Look at it like this. You'll have something to look forward to."
The other line sounded, and a defeated breath escaped her. "I've gotta get going, that's my other line. Take care of yourself tonight." She knew he wouldn't hear any other drabble or nonsense about being careful, or making it home alive. "Not knowing what kind of secret business you're on always makes me worry."
"I'll be fine," he promised.
"Love you."
"Love you too."
She switched lines almost hesitantly.
"Good afternoon, Colonial Ministry of Defense. How may I direct your call? I'm sorry, sir, but I'm afraid Dr. Baltar is out of the office this afternoon. Would you like me to take a message for him. . ."