The Ex-President

FATE

Chapter II


The atmosphere at dinner was morgue-like and Bill seemed helpless to resuscitate it, worse, he seemed to make it a little worse every time he opened his mouth. Laura obviously wasn't feeling well, she hadn't touched her food and she'd been asleep in his bunk when he'd gotten home from work, but when he'd suggested a walk down to life-station all he'd gotten was an annoyed accusation of his being a mother-hen. The next topic of conversation he tried did nothing to lift her spirits, though he hadn't really expected it to.

'I was wondering if you wanted to say anything at the ceremony. The anniversary ceremony,' he clarified when she looked at him blankly. He was surprised that she could forget something as momentous as the one year anniversary of the attacks on their home-worlds. The atmosphere aboard was becoming noticeably more subdued as the date approached.

'Actually, I've been asked to lead the civilian service,' she revealed, 'so if you don't mind, I think I'll leave the military one to you.'

Galactica had had nearly two-hundred refugees camped out in the starboard hangar since the Cloud 9 disaster, those that couldn't be found a space on a civilian ship.

'I didn't realise they'd asked you.'

'And you didn't think I'd say yes even if they did,' she finished for him, reading his mind.

He shrugged. Guilty.

'It's the anniversary of the attacks, it's bigger than me. I should be there,' she said quietly, lighting a cigarette and tossing the packet onto the table in resignation.

'I'm sure they'll appreciate having you there.'

'Hmm,' she said, not sounding so sure. 'I have no idea what I'm supposed to say to them, but I suppose I'd better figure it out, only a couple of days to go.'

'I'd steer away from telling them they're all doomed, if you're asking my advice,' he said, with a ghost of a smile.

'But it's my favourite refrain,' she lamented.

'You'll think of something, you'll give them hope, you always did.'

'How can you still believe that?' she said morosely.

'Just because you stopped believing in yourself doesn't mean the rest of us did. You know if it hadn't been for this planet you would've won the election hands-down. They still look up to you, there's still a lot of good you can do here.'

Far from bucking her up this statement only seemed to make her sadder and she was soon trying to excuse herself for the night, as she was wont to do when the conversation threatened to take an intimate turn.

'Something on your mind?' he asked before she could leave, wondering if he'd missed something. She was always so taciturn with her feelings, always the brave face.

She shrugged, shaking her head. 'No more than the usual. I'll see you in the morning.'

'Laura,' he wheedled, trapping her hand on his shoulder with his own, reluctant to let her go this time. 'You know I wouldn't think less of you if you talked about it once in a while.'

For a moment he thought she was going to cry but she managed to blink back the tears and procure him a small, miserable smile. 'You're sweet,' she said, surprisingly him by bending to press a brief kiss against his temple, 'but I'll be fine.'

And she was gone, again.


A lot of things had changed since the fall of the twelve colonies, not least of them Laura Roslin. Her feelings, even the way she thought, were so different now. Her so-called principles had turned out to be nothing more than a meaningless line in the sand, brought to ruin, like everything else, by the cylons. This wasn't who she was meant to be, this hadn't been in the plan, she had never wanted to shoulder that kind of responsibility. Power had corrupted her, not because she thirsted after it but because life wasn't a movie that twisted and turned but always turned out right in the end, there hadn't always been a clean solution and so she'd been forced to use ones that made her feel dirty from time to time.

Forced by some frakked up machines and their frakked up idea of genocidal justice. Laura had one such machine in her sights right now: Galactica's resident cylon. She had been sitting in the observation room for almost an hour now, watching Sharon Valerii sleep, wondering what machines dreamt, for it seemed to be dreaming something. Did they have nightmares? She certainly hoped so, it seemed only fair, they'd featured in her nightmares often enough and she was sure she wasn't the only one. She was sure, too, that there were a lot of people who would pay dearly for five minutes alone with the cylon prisoner and a two-by-four.

Laura wouldn't mind taking a crack, watching it lying there, looking so human, when it wasn't human, not flesh and bone but flesh and ice; a machine, a stupid machine. In that moment she hated Sharon with every fibre of her being, hated her as the representative of a race that had brought her own to its knees, that had corrupted her, that had made her capable of such pure, unadulterated hatred in the first place. She'd been a teacher for frak's sake, the secretary of education, never in a million years had she pictured herself throwing people out of airlocks.

But they weren't people, she truly believed that; they were only imitations, unquestionably good imitations, built to prey upon their sympathies and their doubts and their weaknesses, but far from human. Humans stayed dead, those things got lifetime after lifetime.

She felt no gratitude towards Sharon for her own second chance at life; as far as Laura was concerned it had been Hera who had cured her cancer, and Hera was half human. Nor did she feel guilty for any emotional pain she might have caused Sharon by faking her child's death. On the contrary, right now she was glad, because nothing that thing felt could come close to the pain of the survivors of the Twelve Colonies, could make up for the anguish of losing billions of people, twelve distinct cultures, some of them barely represented in this altered reality. As far as Laura was concerned she had saved Hera from that soulless cylon and if Bill had any sense he'd flush it out an airlock tomorrow; every moment she was aboard she was a security threat.

Think of the devil. She heard footsteps and knew it would be Bill, she hadn't heard the phone ring with orders to turf her out nor did she think the guard would leave his post for a friendly chat, so who else could it be but Bill, come to see why he had gotten a phone-call at five in the morning asking permission for her to be let into the observation room. He had obviously granted it, and she had been here a while before his curiosity had finally gotten the better of him.

'Less than two hours till the ceremonies,' he said, not asking what had kept her here so long, or even why she was here in the first place. Perhaps he had already guessed. Or perhaps he didn't want to know.

'Do you ever think about what would happen if she escaped?' Laura asked, not sure if she was being rhetorical or not. 'You know we wouldn't stand a chance, if she led the cylons here.'

Bill was slow to respond. He already knew Laura's feelings on the subject, they'd discussed it at length after Starbuck's triumphant return with the survivors from Caprica, a rescue that wouldn't have been possible without Sharon. 'She's helped us a lot.' Which was his way of saying he had no reason to execute her.

'She knowingly allowed a cylon to board your ship not so long ago, Admiral, I wouldn't trust her with the safety of the fleet just yet. She's a conniving machine who thinks we murdered her child. She's more dangerous than ever,' she warned, taking her eyes off Sharon for the first time.

'I have faith in our security arrangements.'

'Huh,' she smiled bitterly. Just like he thought the settlers stood a snowball's chance in Hades of withstanding a cylon attack long enough to escape. While it was too late to stop the settlement, keeping Sharon around was a risk they didn't have to take - he didn't have to take, she corrected herself. She didn't have a say anymore, though of course the issue was a military one so she had never really had a say in the first place, only her powers of persuasion. Story of her life. 'Let's get this day over with,' she relented.

She didn't want to get into another pointless argument with Bill, today of all days. She wasn't really upset with him, just sick of the constant knot in the pit of her stomach, acutely aware of everything that could go wrong. Even if he walked into Sharon's cell right now and put a bullet in her brain it probably wouldn't loosen the knot in Laura's stomach, nor would it increase their odds of survival; there was every chance the cylons would find them without Sharon's help. Sharon was simply the nearest target for her pain, but today wasn't supposed to be about hating them, it was about honouring the memories of the billions lost.

And she had a speech to give.


AN: Sorry the posting pace has dropped on this story, we are now into the unwritten portion so you'll have to be a bit more patient for updates ;) As always, thank you for reading, reviews make me smiley…