Characters (in order of appearance): Saul Tigh, Laura Roslin, Anastasia Dualla, Billy Keikeya, Kara Thrace, Daniel, John Cavil, Natalie, Ellen Tigh, Leoben Conoy, Sharon Valerii, Sharon Agathon. Plus various OC Cylons.
Warnings: None
Spoilers: the whole series; nothing from Caprica.
Word Count: 3,581

Author's note: If anyone wants to take any of these and develop them, go for it!

The one where Adama was one of the final five, instead of Tigh.

"You asked to see me, Madam President?" Colonel Tigh looked curiously around the bare room. When he'd gotten the summons, he'd assumed that he'd be meeting her in the Admiral's quarters, where she'd held court most often lately when she came to Galactica. Instead, Bill had directed him to an empty briefing room that had been set up with a desk and two chairs.

"Yes, thank you for coming." She gestured him to sit across from her. "We have a problem, Colonel."

Saul couldn't think of anything he specifically had done lately that might have offended her. "Why aren't you talking with Bill about it?" He slouched down in the chair, ignoring the aches and twinges of the morning after.

Roslin pressed her lips together. "Bill Adama is the problem. He came to me an hour ago to confess that he was one of the Final Five Cylons."

Saul jerked upright. "That's impossible. There's no way Bill Adama is a frakking Cylon."

"That was my initial reaction, as well," Roslin said. "Never the less, that's what he claims."

"So either it's true, or he's snapped," Saul said. "Either way, we're frakked."

"I'm glad to see we're on the same page, here."

"Why is he coming forward now?" Saul said, searching his memory for any hint of this in his friend's words or actions, hurt that Bill had chosen to tell the president but not his best friend. "I mean, if I were a Cylon, I sure as hell wouldn't admit to it unless I had to."

"Then we can all be glad that Bill Adama apparently has more integrity than you, Colonel," Roslin said dryly. "He claims that he didn't know until we approached the Ionian Nebula, that he began hearing music no one else could hear, and when we arrived he realized that he was a Cylon. Obviously, he couldn't step down in the middle of battle; he told me as soon as things had calmed down. He has no explanation for the fact that he's been living among humans for at least the last thirty years. Nor will he say if any others of the Final Five are in the Fleet."

"Which means they probably are here," Saul said. He shook his head. "So that's why he was late to CIC—I'd wondered."

"And it explains his erratic behavior during Baltar's trial," Roslin said. "Whether he was having a nervous breakdown or an epiphany. But that's not the problem. The problem is Galactica."

"We can't have a Gods-damned Cylon in control of the Colonial Fleet, even if it is Bill Adama," Saul said, heart sinking as he considered the implications. "You and I don't get on, and after what happened the last time I was in command, I doubt the Fleet would stand for it. Lee would be my next choice—he has the experience, which is more than I can say for anyone else—but he's a civilian now, a politician, Caprica's representative on the Quorum."

"I doubt that will last, once word gets out," Roslin said. "A Human-Cylon hybrid on the Quorum?"

"And you spent all that time worried about Hera Agathon, when there was a half-Cylon right under your nose." Saul shook his head. "You ever get the feeling the gods are toying with us?"

"I've decided I don't like irony," Roslin said with a small smile without humor in it. "If Bill, you, and Lee are disqualified, who's next?"

"Karl Agathon would be best—he's smart, loyal, a good officer," Saul said. "But he's married to a Cylon, even if she is one of our pilots, now. After that … command is traditionally reserved for pilots, but none of the rest of ours have anywhere near the kind of experience or training they'd need. We've gone through too many of them since the fall of the Colonies. Felix Gaeta might be able to do it; or Louis Hoshi, come to think of it—he was one of the Pegasus officers, but there was never any shit on him over that whole mess. Aside from them …" Saul shook his head. "I can't think of anyone else who might be able to handle it."

Roslin sat back in her chair, lips pursed. "So it's you, or one of two junior lieutenants."

Saul shook his head. "We're frakked."