Big thanks to L_E_HAHA for reminding me I was due to post this ;)

Also, my beta Jules was awesome as always when she got to beta this chapter. All remaining mistakes are mine, I own them completely.

Thank you for the reviews! Reading them always make my day. Enjoy!

Just when you think it can't get any worse, it can. And just when you think it can't get any better, it can.

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"How the hell did they find us?" Tigh growled, and Bill stared at the nav chart in front of him as Starbuck's words resonated through his mind. An entire Cylon fleet outside the storm. You don't have the might of the Colonial Fleet at your disposal, Commander. Not even a quarter of the Fleet. You have one battlestar, one! Zero room for movement.

"Doesn't really matter," he answered, glancing back at his XO. "They've got us."

"Why aren't they coming after us, sir?" Gaeta chimed in, and Tigh snorted before Bill could reply.

"Why should they? They can just sit out there and wait us out. What difference does it make to them, they're machines. We're the ones who need food, medicine, fuel..." Bill turned at Saul's words, thinking; as much as he wanted to go out there, guns blazing, it was a poor tactical move. He would rather roll the hard six: attempt the unexpected.

"I'm not going to play their game. Not gonna go out there and try to fight them." Lee and Tigh looked at him in surprise, but neither said anything. Bill glanced at Gaeta. "Can we plot a jump from inside the storm?"

"With all this EM interference mucking up the FTL fix?" It was Saul who spoke, his tone incredulous, and Gaeta nodded slightly.

"I tend to agree, sir. I don't think we should even attempt a jump until we've cleared the storm's threshold." The young officer waved at the nav chart behind him and Lee stepped a little closer to the table.

"We'll have to be quick about it though— they'll launch everything they have, first glimpse they get." He spoke exchanging looks with Tigh and Gaeta, and Bill suppressed a sigh; his son was clearly still stung by their conversation back at his quarters and the way he had spoken to Laura. And as if the mere thought of her could conjure her aide, Billy appeared and walked over to Dee at the comm station. Bill followed their conversation despite not being able to hear their voices, while the others still argued on how to attempt the jump; these kids had their lives in front of them and were marching to war.

This isn't war— it's survival. If we are even going to survive as a species, then we need to get the hell out of here and we need our children to start having babies! He couldn't risk leaving Val and Laura behind, as without Galactica, they wouldn't survive. They wouldn't, he knew. Laura would never abandon her people now, despite the circumstances in which she found them thrust upon her, and Val wouldn't leave her mother. And he had lost them once—

Then something inside him clicked. Frak that woman, she's right. "They better start having babies." Bill spoke his thoughts aloud, effectively shutting up the buzz of angry voices around him.

Tigh stared at him quietly, clearly amused behind his also apparent confusion. "Is that an order?" he asked.

No, it wasn't. Not yet anyway. But it was a realization that the former secretary of education —the new president, his own ex-wife—, was right all along. What good would it do for what was left of humanity, to lose the only protection they had now? Galactica needed to remain with them and that meant running away, leaving the Colonies behind. "Maybe before too long," he admitted. "Okay, we're going to take the civilians with us. We're going to leave this solar system and we're not going to come back."

"We're running?" Tigh questioned with disbelief.

"This war is over." He looked directly at the colonel as he spoke. "We lost." There was a brief pause and Lee nodded.

"My father's right." Bill's eyes shot to Lee's and they exchanged a look, both of them silently acknowledging who was actually right there, even when she wasn't present. "It's time for us to get out of here." Bill found himself suppressing a smile— it was so much like Lee to support his mother when he believed she was right. And that, at least for this particular conundrum, was a good thing.

"So where are we going, Commander?" Tigh addressed him, and Bill was grateful for his XO— not debating his order even when he didn't really agree with it.

"The Prolmar sector," he answered promptly. Where the tribes had supposedly come through before finding the Colonies, it was the closest thing they had to a familiar zone out of the system.

"That's way past the red line," Saul pointed out, and Bill ignored the obvious statement. Of course it was past the red line. That was the whole point.

"Can you plot that jump?" he asked Gaeta, though it wasn't really a question.

"I've never plotted a jump that far, sir."

"No one has, can you plot that jump?" he repeated, mustering a calm tone in his voice to keep him that way. He trusted his officer's skills.

Gaeta nodded after a beat. "Yes, sir." His voiced sounded somewhat more confident than before and Bill nodded proudly.

"Do it. By yourself." He couldn't stress that last bit enough, and Gaeta nodded once more as he left. Bill then exchanged a last glance with Tigh before turning over to the nav chart. "This is a bad tactical position," he acknowledged. "We'll pull Galactica out five clicks." He traced the chart with his hand as he spoke. "The civilians will come out behind us, cross the threshold and make the jump, while we hold off the Cylons," he finished gravely. The whole purpose of the military was to protect the Colonies under any circumstance, except the Colonies were not planets any more, they were back to their core— the people. Those sixty-three ships, inside their hulls, carried everything they had left, and their duty was not to protect them until there was another Colony to defend.

"Once the civilians have made the jump, every fighter is to make an immediate combat landing. We don't have much time," he continued, this time speaking to Lee. His son would be among the pilots risking their lives, making it the first time Bill was ordering him into a fight— and unable to find anything to say. And even if he could find the words, saying them now, in the middle of CIC for what could possibly be the last battle they ever fought, just wasn't safe. It could be a distraction for both him and Lee.

"I'll tell them," Lee said, taking his new position as CAG seamlessly.

"I want all my pilots to return. Do you understand?" Bill knew people under his command would not be coming back today, but he wanted them fighting until the very end. For a chance of a future— all together.

Lee nodded. "Yes, sir, I do." He then walked away to attend to his duties, and Bill watched him go with a sigh.

"Can I ask what changed your mind?" Saul leaned on the table and raised an eyebrow, already knowing the answer.

"You can ask," he replied. He wasn't in the mood to explain why he was now inclined to agree with the incredibly stubborn president, and he couldn't explain it in any case. He was aware she still didn't stand him, and he still hated her guts.

Tigh merely shook his head in silent amusement. "Frakking woman," he said and Bill almost smiled, his friend's words were incredibly close to his own thoughts. "But you have to admit— she's crazy. We're fighting for our lives and she wants us to stop for a moment and try the old, 'make love, not war' philosophy? Does she even understand the concept of war? Or did she skip that part during her lessons?"

"Insane as she may be, ignorant as she may be, she has a point, Saul. And she's the boss now," Bill reminded him.

"So the lady just strolls in here, tells you to start frakking like bunnies, and you're back under her spell like a lap dog? Frak, Bill, I know you loved her, but if that's all it takes... better inform Carolanne she's got competition now," he joked.

"Saul," Bill warned. It wasn't the time to take on Tigh's retorts on his love life.

The colonel shrugged slightly and started laughing, but swallowed it quickly at Bill's glare. "Sir. What do we do about our prisoner?" he asked, back to business.

Bill was silent for a moment, before running a palm over his face. He didn't like the idea, but it was the only way. "Have the marines bring him to the airlock. We're not taking him with us."

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They had made it. Barely.

Laura counted the ships she saw outside as they blinked into view, filling the empty space that lay between them and the army of stars outside her window. Twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine... not including those to the left of Colonial One, where she couldn't see them at the moment. But she had to keep herself busy— the image of dozens of Vipers flying out of Galactica, to take on three Cylon basestars, haunted her mind; Lee was on one of those and she might not see him again. Her hands gripped the armrests, her nails digging into the soft leather of the liner's seats.

No more blinks came through and her heart picked up its pace as she waited. She exchanged looks with Val, seated in front of her, her pursed lips proof enough of her own worries. Laura wanted to calm her down, but she found no words for that purpose as they resumed their silent watch out the window.

"They'll be here any minute now, ma'am." It was Billy who spoke next to her in a whisper, meant to reassure them. Such a sweet young man... Laura had to smile at his attempt; she marveled at the irony that of course she had found the perfect aide at the end of the world, when she wouldn't need one soon.

"Mom!" Val exclaimed, and Laura turned to her excited voice to find Galactica out the window, her impressive size taking up most of the view. The battlestar appeared more bruised and battered than before, practically hissing her irritation as steam was propelled from the several ducts and airlocks from stern to stem. Laura exhaled heavily, as if finally allowing herself to feel tired.

"Billy, can you go tell the pilot—"

"I'll ask him to dock inside Galactica right away, ma'am," he said as he got up.

Laura shot him another grateful smile. "Thank you, Billy." She then returned her gaze to the ship, to watch as the giant got even closer when the hangar deck engulfed Colonial One again.

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The battle was over, but there was still a lot to be done: dispatching the emergency repair teams, paying a visit to Doc Cottle to hear the final toll of injuries and deaths; getting Galactica back into Condition Two but ready for an unexpected attack.

As he finished his duties, a marine awaiting outside Life Station informed him the president was on board and on her way to his quarters, eliciting an exhausted sigh from him. Tigh had the watch back on CIC... he wanted to rest for a while before meeting anyone again. In any case, he walked to meet her and found another two marines outside his hatch, their presence informing him Laura was already inside.

After returning their salutes, he crossed the threshold to see Laura and her aide waiting for him near the entrance, the former seemingly interested in his quarters. Perhaps she was comparing what she saw with the stuff she recalled, Bill guessed, as her glance at the bookcase was accompanied by a modest smile.

"Commander—" She took a step towards him as soon as she noticed his arrival.

"Lee's fine," he assured her, and she nodded her gratitude. "What can I do for you?" he added as he took a seat on his couch and gestured for them to do the same. He was simply too tired to deal with protocol. Laura accepted the invitation and Billy followed, staying by her side as he shifted uncomfortably on his spot.

"I thought you'd want to honor those who didn't make it— a memorial service, of sorts." Laura explained. "You might remember Elosha, she's is aboard Colonial One. The priestess you met at the ceremony. Which honestly, seems like a lifetime ago."

He frowned slightly; priests and priestess had always made him uncomfortable, like they knew all the answers for questions any person should barely understand in the first place. Still, that was the kind of thing his crew needed at the moment. "That's a good idea," he accepted, nodding. "We can use the starboard hangar, half the crap from the decommissioning is still there."

"Billy, can you arrange that? In a few hours, of course. I'm sure the commander and his crew need to rest."

"Absolutely, Madam President." Billy nodded as he scribbled his notes quickly.

"Thank you. And I have to admit my main reason for being here was getting news of Lee, but since I already did..." She stood up as she spoke and Billy mirrored her movements, efficient as ever.

Yet the commander sank into the couch. He was unmistakably tired, but as Laura was already there, he might as well catch her up on the recent developments. "There's something else we need to discuss, Madam President." She got the hint when he didn't elaborate: discuss alone.

She wore a neutral expression as she addressed her aide, but Bill could tell she was wary. "I'll go back to Colonial One on my own, Billy," she ordered. He nodded and left through the hatch, and Laura sat down again. "I suppose this is where I thank you for deciding to bring us—"

"Listen. You were right, I was wrong," he began. He would rather get it out of the way first, since that was hardly what anyone would have liked to admit to their ex.

"I didn't come for that."

"I know; let's just leave it at that." He wasn't going to say it again, that much he knew.

She nodded slowly. "Alright." She then waited for him to explain while gazing at his neutral expression.

"You should know that the Cylons... they look like us now. Human. Right down to the blood." He glanced down at his hands, remembering the unsettling but familiar liquid dripping from his fingers just hours before.

"What— what are you talking about?"

"I had an encounter with one of them in Ragnar, before you came," he explained, and Laura's thoughts went from a little self-indulgence —the colonel had lied to her and something had happened to Bill at the station, which meant she was right twice— to genuine worry. "With what I thought was a man."

Laura remained silent, frowning slightly as her mind processed the information. But then, cautious as always, she asked, "How did you know?"

"A hunch, at first. He was sick. The storm at Ragnar does that to synthetics— and he got a lot worse quickly." Conoy's words replayed inside his mind, along with the unnerving honesty in them. "He admitted it."

"What did you do with him— it?"

"Killed it," he stated simply. Laura pursed her lips and nodded. "I also had reason to believe Galactica had a Cylon on board, so we ran tests on the body. Then Baltar took samples from those on board, extrapolated something from the tests on the Cylon corpse —which frankly, I can't follow the process—, and found out one was synthetic."

Laura closed her eyes as she took the news, her dismay painted clearly across her features. This was how the Colonies had fallen, then. If the nearly retired Galactica had been infiltrated, the Cylons must have sent agents to every ship in the Fleet. "Which one?" she pressed.

"Aaron Doral's." She felt an indescribable relief at his answer, she had an explanation for her distrust against him. But also, they were talking about an outsider— what would happen to the morale of the crew if one of them was a Cylon? And to the commander himself? "He also led us to a device nobody recognized from before the ceremony— Cylon too." Bill decided to leave the part about where they had found it —his CIC, of all places— out for now.

"I didn't like him," she admitted. "Where is he?"

"Ragnar."

"Ragnar?"

"Ragnar," he repeated sternly, and Laura took it as a refusal to let his decision be questioned. Military men were always like that, so caught in their ways that civilians seemed to know nothing in comparison. "He was a danger to this ship."

"But you had no proof beyond the doctor's word," she refuted. "You said so yourself— you don't even understand the tests."

"I'm aware of that." He spoke evenly, knowing very well that he had left something —Cylon, human—, to die at the Anchorage. It wasn't the first time his orders led to a death.

Laura glanced at him for a beat, and to his surprise, nodded in approval. "Good," she said. She should have been present during the decision-making process given her position, but she agreed with it. A Cylon —even suspected, as was the case— was more of a danger than an asset at this time. If the machines were able to build humanoid bodies, they could also device a way to communicate with each other that the Colonials didn't know— and expose the fleet's current location.

They remained in silence for a moment, until Laura cleared her throat. "I appreciate what you told me, Commander. I think we both need to rest." She got on her feet and Bill did the same to see her off, and she pondered over the news as the marines escorted her back to Colonial One. She felt frustrated; he had shared the information on humanoid Cylons, but was still willing to step over her presidency if he saw fit. After all, she was just a schoolteacher in his eyes, and that meant that her promise to Billy was to remain a complete lie— Commander Adama would not be learning about her cancer. She would not give him any excuse to doubt her.