Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica belongs to Ronald D. Moore and the Sci-Fi channel. Margaret Vestry and Colonel Diana 'Artemis' Genoa are mine.

Chapter 11: A friend in need

Roslin's first duty of the morning was to bring Tony to see Margaret. Cottle had told the president that the women could receive visitors and would be out in another day. The doctor also had another interesting piece of information.

"Baltar came by to visit her. Seems like he feels really bad about what happened. If he caused it, I don't think it's on purpose. For a reason I'm drawing a blank on, he wants her to think well of him," the doctor relayed.

"You know as well as I do that he can be manipulative. Keep an eye on him when he visits," Roslin advised before approaching Margaret's bed.

"Did you think that I wouldn't?" Cottle added as he walked over to another patient.

The woman smiled and sat up slowly, seeing her son. "Tony, come here, sweetheart," she paused as Roslin set him on Margaret's bed. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, Mommy," he replied as he cuddled close to her.

She glanced at Roslin. "Has he been good?"

"Yes," the older woman nodded. "But he misses you. He woke up last night wanting to see you."

"I can't tell you how much I appreciate you watching him. Cottle says I should be out by tomorrow. It's okay to leave him in day-care, you know," Margaret mentioned.

Roslin smiled. "I know."

"Oh, and if he wakes up again, what you can do is sing Caprican folk songs. He likes those," the boy's mother suggested.

"I'll keep that in mind. I don't have the world's best singing voice, but I could try it," the president agreed.

Margaret motioned for Roslin to sit on the bed for a moment. "Have you picked out any names for your little one yet?"

Roslin blushed for a moment. "No. We've been too busy," she replied.

"Something will come to you and then you will not be able to get it out of your head," Margaret informed her. "Baltar came by to visit me too. He's terribly worried about me."

"So you think his concern is genuine then?" Roslin questioned.

The other woman smirked. "He's probably worried that if I do not return to the lab, he will be forced to work with someone who will do nothing productive and waste time complaining about all the things he has done wrong."

Not wanting the boy to sit through a four-hour Quorum meeting, Roslin decided to leave him in day-care. Adama had gone to CIC that morning, continuing scans of the planet and the area as well as keeping an eye on the movement of people and resources.

By the afternoon, Tigh's shift had ended and the admiral had let him leave, noting that though he was back on duty, something was still bothering his old friend. As the afternoon continued, a raptor from the Cassiopeia asked to dock. Diana entered CIC later, looking around the room.

"Bill, have you seen Saul?" she inquired.

He raised an eyebrow. "So you only came to visit with him?" Adama teased.

She snorted and shook her head. "He disappeared after showin' me CIC and I've got some catchin' up to do."

"I understand. We have a rec center of sorts in one of the hangers. He's done with his shift for today and you might find him there," the admiral answered.

"Thanks," she replied before heading off.

Diana found Tigh at a table near the bar on the hanger deck, nursing his drink and staring off into the distance. She walked over to him and seized the chair across from him. "What's goin' on, Saul?" she questioned.

"Go on, Diana, I'm not good company right now," he muttered, taking another gulp of the gold liquor in his glass.

She clamped a hand over his drink and pulled it away. "You've had enough."

He glared at her. "Diana, this is none of your damn business."

"Then I'm makin' it my business. Now what in the sam-hell is goin' on?" she demanded.

Folding his hands in front of him, he sighed heavily in defeat. "I'm a frakkin' Cylon," he grumbled.

Diana snorted. "If you're a Cylon, then I'm a teakettle."

"It's true," he argued.

"Ah spit, you ain't a Cylon. You do some plum stupid things every once in a while, but being a Cylon's not one of 'em," she remarked, her statement punctuated by her fist hitting the table.

He tried to explain what had happened. "But I was hearing-"

"I don't care what you heard. Your hearin's always been better than anyone I've known," she interjected. Her accent always became heavier when she was around him because he made her feel comfortable. Standing to lean over the table so that she could look him in the eye, she continued. "I've known your sorry ass for twenty years. You ain't a Cylon and that's a fact."

"I know what you're tryin' to do, but it won't work, Diana," he retorted.

"Why the hell not?" she demanded.

He reached for his drink again, but she pulled it back. "Because it doesn't change anything. I'm the enemy. I'll fight to the death not to let them win, but I'm one of them," he whispered.

"You're talkin' crazy, you know. I don't know what's goin' on, but the only thing I do know is that you ain't a Cylon. I'm gonna help you find whoever caused whatever you heard. I haven't seen anybody from anywhere else for around two years. I don't have the slightest idea what's been goin' on. I didn't want to ask you about your eye, but I think I need to," she remarked.

Standing, he took his glass from her hand and walked it back to the bar, leaving it with the bar tender and returning to her. "I'll tell you, but not here," he stated.

She followed him back to his quarters and as they entered, she had the uneasy feeling that something was missing. Sitting on his couch, she looked around, toward the bedroom and in the direction of the bathroom. Tigh offered her a glass of water. She accepted and he sat next to her. After taking a gulp, she spoke.

"Where's Ellen?" she asked simply.

He looked out at the wall and took a deep breath. "Dead, died on New Caprica. Lost my eye there too," he relayed.

"I'm so sorry, Saul. What was 'New Caprica,' and why were you there?" Diana continued.

Tigh told her about the election and Baltar becoming president. Then they talked about the resistance movement and the rescue. Next he told her about the trial. "Gaius frakking Baltar's a free man now," Tigh vexed.

"Holy raspberries, you people sure know how to get yourselves into one doozy of a mess," Diana expressed.

He nodded. "Now we're just hoping to get to Earth before the Cylons do."

"And what are you gonna do?" she probed, making things personal again.

Sitting up straight, he faced her. "I'm gonna kick their metallic asses if they try anything funny."

She laughed and shook her head. "I like that idea, but it's not what I meant."

"Got a job to do. Past that I don't know," he admitted.

Standing, she gave him a warm smile. "Maybe I can come up with somethin' of interest. Can you tell me more about the music you were hearin'?"

He nodded. "It was some song that all four of us could hear. I heard it from all over the ship."

"Was there any place it was stronger in?" she inquired.

Thinking for a moment, he turned back to her. "Yeah. I heard it louder in the court room, and then in the halls."

She rubbed her chin. "Maybe instead of lookin' for where the music was comin' from, you need to ask yourself who was in the same place as you that might've been tryin' to cause trouble," she suggested.

"The only person who's caused me trouble lately is that pain-in-the-ass defense attorney, Lampkin," Tigh relayed.

"Could've been him then. You told me that Bill's son's been workin' with him. Why don't you ask him if he knows anything?" she mentioned.

Tigh sighed and shook his head. "Lee isn't on speaking terms with most people right now."

"I see. I need to get back to my ship, but you'll see me again," she added before leaving.

On her way back, she accidentally walked right into Lee. "Sorry ma'am, I didn't see you. I was distracted," he explained.

"It's alright I-" she paused, realizing who he was. "You're Bill's son, aren't you?"

"Yes, how did you know? I've never seen you here before," he questioned.

"I'm Colonel Genoa, an old friend of Saul's as well as your father. Maybe you can help clear up a mystery for me. I've got a friend who needs to know about this Lampkin guy you worked with," she began.

The younger man raised an eyebrow and eyed her with curiosity. "He does his own thing, comes off as a loaner. His cat's annoying too."

"Did he have a briefcase or somethin' like that?" she asked.

"Yeah, but he kept the strangest things in it. He took things from people to learn more about them," Lee replied.

He was about to continue on his way until she stopped him. "One more thing, did he have any sort of sound or recordin' device?"

"I suppose he could have, but I don't know. I've gotta go," Lee relayed. She nodded and let him continue on his way, trying to think of how to get a hold of the defense attorney.

Later on her ship, she received a call from the admiral and headed over to meet him as his Raptor landed. "So you want to talk to Falkner?" she assumed.

Adama nodded. "I need to let him know that I'm willing to talk with more than just you," he said with a smile.

"Follow me," she stated, leading him toward Life Station on the Cassiopeia.

Commander Bernard Falkner looked to be a balding man in his late seventies. His left arm and leg were in casts, suspended in slings. A nurse removed an ice pack from his right eye, revealing a purple bruise. Adama also noticed a heart monitor and a few other machines. Diana stepped over to the man.

"Admiral Adama wanted to see you, sir," she told him.

The commander smiled. "Well, it's good to know that you won't be going over my head if he wants to talk to me," Falkner goaded her.

She threw her hands up in mock-disgust. "Fine, then. I can tell when I'm not wanted." Heading toward the door, she looked toward Adama. "He's all yours, Bill. You can tell him he was a plum idiot for goin' on that hike," she mentioned before leaving.

Adama stepped over to Falkner and took the chair next to the bed. "Nice you could drop in, Bill," he conveyed.

"It's good to see you, Bernard," the admiral responded. "Diana told me you had a hiking accident. Didn't she realize it was this bad?"

Falkner shook his head, his eyes not completely focusing on the admiral. "I told Doc to tell her squat about it. I won't have her keeping some frakking deathbed vigil for me," he expressed. "Fortunately she sees what she wants to sometimes."

"Did the hiking accident cause all this?" the admiral questioned.

The man on the bed took a slow, labored breath. "She's right about me being an idiot. I just wanted a good look at the land. I've got a lot more wrong than she knows. I found out that I had a brain tumor, but I wasn't going to risk telling her. She's been like a daughter to me and the best damn XO I've ever worked with. And I've no doubt she can command the ship as well as take good care of the crew. Truth is I don't have long, Bill. You've got my permission to negotiate everything with her. She's been managing things for years. I'm going to promote her the next time I see her. I'm can't tell her about my health though. I need you to tell her."

Adama smiled sadly. "I'll do that, old friend."

"Thanks. Is Saul Tigh still on your ship?" Falkner inquired. The admiral nodded and the commander responded with, "She'll be fine then."

The other man stood. "I should let you rest."

"Thanks for stopping by, Bill," Falkner stated.

"It's no problem," Adama added.

The admiral returned to his quarters to find Roslin and Tory reading through reports while Tony played with blocks by their feet. When Roslin glanced over at him, she noticed the melancholy mood. "Tory, could you leave us alone for a while?" she requested.

She nodded and stood. "I'll take Tony for a walk too," Tory suggested.

"That would be fine," Roslin agreed. When they had gone, she turned back to Adama. "Bill, are you alright?"

He sighed heavily and sank into his desk chair. She bent down and gave him a hug as he spoke. "Falkner's dying and Diana doesn't know. He wants me to take all my negotiations to her, and he also wants me to be the one to tell her he's dying."

"What are you going to do?" she asked softly.

"Tell her. She deserves to know," he replied, reaching out to rub her hand. "What'd you do today?"

She understood his need for distraction. "Tory's been watching the security tape from the lab and it seems that Baltar was telling the truth about Margaret's accident not being his fault."

"I suppose the odds are that he'd be right about something," Adama said wryly as they moved to the couch.

Roslin smirked. "Unfortunately."

"How's Tony doing?" the admiral inquired.

"I left him in day-care for the morning because I didn't want to make him sit through a four-hour Quorum meeting. Margaret will be out by tomorrow morning, so Tony will be with us again tonight. He's doing better with the situation. Tory doesn't seem to scare him anymore," Roslin mentioned with a smile.

"She can be pretty intimidated," he joked. "How's your friend?"

"Nearly as articulate as she usually is. She told me that if Tony wakes up again, I should try singing Caprican folk songs to him," Roslin relayed. "She also asked me if we had picked out any names for our baby."

He cupped her cheek with his hand and kissed her warmly. "We've got time."

She nodded. "Yes, and I really do need to read more of the scrolls."

"Have you found out anything else with the scrolls?" he probed.

Roslin shook her head. "I haven't had a chance to look over the rest of them," she paused as she heard the door. "I think they're back. How about dinner?"

He kissed her gently and smiled as he stood. "I think tonight I'll use your idea and see if cooking is really relaxing. You read the scrolls and I'll make dinner."

She glanced over at Tory, who had just entered the room. Tony had gone back to his blocks. "I think we're done with the reports for today?"

The aide nodded. "Yes, Madame President," she stated as she picked up the folders and left.

As Adama fried algae patties, Roslin scanned the scrolls. There was only one that she had not unrolled. The final scroll contained what appeared to be constellations and another nebula, but it made little sense to her. She rubbed her eyes, hoping that something would come to her later.

That night she had a dream. She was back on Kobol looking up at the stars in the tomb of Athena. Then the stars changed to those on the scroll she had been looking at and she was able to recognize a path. The nebula from the scroll was the end destination. She sat up in bed and headed toward Adama's desk, trying not to wake him as she slipped out. Quickly she unrolled the scroll and copied down the connection from her dream on a piece of paper. A hand on her shoulder startled her and she looked over to see the admiral.

"Some nights I'm a light sleeper. What are you doing up?" he inquired, squinting at the light.

She held up the piece of paper. "It didn't make sense to me when I looked at the scroll earlier. Then I had a dream that put it all together. These constellations are a successive path toward this nebula and whatever we need to find next is there," she explained.

"And you had this dream without taking anything?" he inquired.

"I think it might have something to do with the prophecy and the baby," she relayed.

He rubbed his chin with his index finger. "Then we might have a reason now for why the Cylons wanted you. They thought their experiment could help them find Earth," he suggested.

"Which means that they knew about the scrolls in the tomb of Hephaestus, they read them somehow, and they will probably try to capture me again," she assessed.

After he rested a hand on her shoulder to reassure her that she was safe, he yawned and blinked before the paper came into focus. "We'll cross that bridge if we come to it. I'll check this out with the star charts in the morning."

"Bill, go back bed. I really didn't mean to wake you up," she mentioned, chewing her lip with embarrassment.

"It's alright. You just owe me a cup of coffee in the morning and the first shower," he told her wryly.

She smiled back and followed him to bed, deciding that whatever else needed to be done could let her sleep for a while longer. "Of course."

With new constellations to follow, the crew in CIC had a destination as they studied the star charts. The evacuation of the planet and the reloading of the Cassiopeia took another week and every spare hand from all of the ships helped. Before they prepared to leave, Adama met with Tigh, Roslin, and Diana, knowing what he had to tell her after they discussed ship's business and inventory.

"Ship's ready to go, Bill. Thanks again for the help," Diana conveyed.

"You're welcome," he replied, not meeting her eyes.

She raised an eyebrow. "Somethin' goin' on that I should know?"

He sighed heavily and faced her. "When I spoke with Falkner, he told me that all transactions were to go through you," Adama began.

"That's not a problem. What's wrong?" she probed.

"Falkner also told me that he was dying. He didn't want you spending all your time by his bed, so he wanted me to tell you," the admiral relayed.

Diana eyed him incredulously. "But somebody would've said somethin' before now. I'm his XO!"

Adama touched her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Diana, but it's true."

She got to her feet and took a deep breath. "If you'd all excuse me a moment, there's somethin' I need to do."

As she walked toward the door, Tigh stood and followed her. "You want someone to fly you over-"

"I'll be alright," she interjected.

Tigh found her sitting at a table off to the side of the hanger, staring at a full glass of liquor two days later. "Well, this looks familiar," he remarked. She glanced up at him and gave him a half-smile. "Mind if I take a seat?" he asked.

"Go ahead," she told him quietly.

He pulled out a chair and sat across from her. "I see you haven't touched it," he stated, pointing to the drink.

"Didn't see a reason to hurry," she replied. To appease him she took a sip, but immediately spat it back out. "Holy raspberries, this stuff's bad. You've got moonshine here, Saul."

Taking the glass from her and setting it back on the table, he chuckled. "This is the better version. We've had a lot worse. It's not so bad when that's all you've got. How are you holdin' up?" he asked her.

She stretched out her collar so that he could see the new pin. "Falkner promoted me to commander."

"Congratulations are in order then," Tigh mentioned.

Running a hand through her black hair, she looked away. "He's got two weeks left. If he'd told me-"

"People sometimes don't tell others about their health because they don't want to be looked at like invalids. He was tryin' to do what he thought was best," Tigh cut in.

They stood, deciding to leave the hanger. "That doesn't make it any easier," she remarked.

He placed a hand on her shoulder and nodded. "Yeah. Dying's the easy part. Living takes a lot more work. Like I told somebody else a while ago, one day you just decide to get up and walk on your own."

"I should go back to my ship. Thanks, Saul," she conveyed with a ghost of a smile. He grasped her forearm for a moment and smiled sympathetically.

"Any time, Diana," he replied as he watched her go.

(My thanks to carolann, Kiyani, and Mariel3 for reviewing :D)