Season 1 is in, finally! I look forward to your feedback. And again, thank you for your comments and favs!

It's worth mentioning that this chapter contains spoilers for Blood & Chrome, though if you haven't seen it yet... I don't really recommend it either. The bar left by the reimagined series was just too high ;)

Enjoy!


After a certain point, you just can't go back to where you started. Even if you want to.

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"So you had a call sign?" she asked as she placed a lock of auburn hair behind her ear. The leaves from the tree in which Bill sat against moved constantly with the wind, compelling Laura to sometimes obscure her lovely features with her bare hand to protect her eyes from the intense Caprican summer sun.

"Yeah, all pilots do."

"What was yours?"

"Husker."

"What's a 'Husker'?" she said, narrowing her eyes in confusion.

"I am." He chuckled. "I didn't start as a Viper pilot, Commander Nash assigned me to the Raptor squadron because while I was eager to get my hands dirty, I was too cocky for his taste."

Laura snorted. "I can't imagine why." He flashed her a look full of false disdain and she giggled, which in turn made Bill grab her arm and pull her towards him. "Ow! Wait!" Her protests where swiftly muffled by a laugh as he placed her sideways onto his lap and hugged her by the waist. She slapped his chest playfully before melting into his touch. "You are impossible, Bill Adama."

"Yeah, okay," he admitted, smiling as well. Laura leaned against his chest as she listened, her temple falling precisely on his shoulder. "My co-pilot lost his partner and took it out on the replacement, me. He assumed I was a farmer boy from Tauron before I joined the Fleet; hence, Husker. So when I finally sat on a Viper, everyone was already calling me that. Said it matched my voice over the comms." He shrugged slightly, just enough not to move her. "Husky."

She hummed in response. She could picture him perfectly— fifteen years younger, not exactly an adult yet but anxious to prove his worth and kick some Cylon's ass, and too wrapped around himself to accept a call sign that was intended to make fun of him. The thought made her smile fondly.

"Is that where they come from, then?" she asked next, raising her head slightly to catch his eyes. As those startling green eyes waited expectantly, Bill couldn't help but love her down to her teacher curiosity.

"Yes and no. Can be from anyone: your squad mates during basic flight, your instructors... your superiors when you get your first assignment," he explained. "Sometimes you get caught in whatever awful name your friends come up with as a joke. Sometimes your call sign gets a renewal, although it's not that common, if you have a big change in your life. It works pretty much like a nickname."

She hummed again. "It suits you," she decided. "I like it."

Resting her head back on his shoulder, Laura sighed contently as Bill pressed a kiss against her hair. He took the opportunity to draw lazy circles on her back as well, and the couple remained in silence for a while as Laura closed her eyes, eager to lose herself among the sounds of the park: wind dancing between leaves, people laughing, Bill's steady breath beneath her. She could stay in that perfect moment forever.

"You'll fall asleep." Bill spoke in his low tone, making her smile anew.

"No, I won't," she said, fully aware the sound of his voice could indeed lull her to sleep. So instead, she opened her eyes and looked at him, ready to ask him another question about his service—

"Madam President!" Billy's voice, full of distress, brought her back as she jerked her hand away from the Viper's hull. The aide came to a halt when he registered her, realizing he had clearly interrupted something.

And he had, in a way. Laura had found herself wandering through the lower decks of Colonial One, until she had arrived at the Viper Lee had flown during the initial attack. The crew of Galactica had scheduled a retrieval now that the battlestar was reorganizing its resources for what was to come, but had had other priorities so far.

The tail numbering read N7242C. Just below the cockpit window Laura had distinguished a clear LT. WILLIAM ADAMA in capital letters, painted on a plate screwed to the spacecraft. Bill's Viper. She had placed her fingertips on the last word of the nameplate, her touch delicate as a feather as if she somehow expected the commander to show up at any given time. Husker. How could a call sign that meant nothing to her stir so many memories inside of her, so many ghosts she thought she had already buried decades ago? Perhaps because it meant the world to Bill, and he had been her everything once.

Her aide had found her there instead, reminiscing about a word she knew by heart. "What is it, Billy?" she asked, masking the awkwardness she felt under her most professional tone.

"The Cylons found us, ma'am. All ships are making emergency jumps."

Laura nodded, trying to ignore the sudden and unpleasant sensation in her gut. "Let's go," she instructed, walking quickly towards the stairs with Billy behind her. Her presence in the cockpit served for nothing, but she felt the need to be there nonetheless.

18 hours. The fleet had 18 hours of relative peace, barely enough to unscramble the remaining people, address some critical concerns and get some hours of sleep after jumping away from Ragnar. She had even managed to find a window of opportunity to allow herself some alone time... and now, she had to get back to her new routine of dealing with one crisis after another. Quite literally.

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"Jump 236 complete."

"All civilian ships present and accounted for, sir," Dee informed, just like she had done two hundred, thirty-five times before. It had become like some sort of cue for the rest of CIC to slow down, now that the Cylons were gone— for the next thirty-three minutes.

"Start the clock," Tigh snapped, resisting the urge to rub his eyes and give in to exhaustion. They needed to plot the next jump. "Mr. Gaeta—"

"On it, sir," he answered as quickly as he could, managing to diminish the weary timbre in his voice. He moved away from his console and towards the star map already deployed from the last cycle.

"Commander, I've got Colonial One on the line." Dee didn't wait for confirmation to put the call through, as the president called whenever she could.

Bill gave a slight nod and picked up the receiver. "Adama."

"Commander." Laura's voice ran smoothly through the line, washing him like a wave of salt water despite the hoarseness in it from the lack of sleep. He could almost feel a rush of awareness going through his whole body —which was ridiculous, of course, he couldn't literally feel it—, waking him up. "How was last cycle?"

"No losses," he informed. If he wasn't so tired, he would have puffed his chest in pride.

She sighed with relief. "That's good to hear." She spoke slowly, evidently exhausted as well. Then, her voice became a whisper as she asked, "Is Lee alright?"

There was a brief pause on the line and Laura held her breath. Even though her mind was completely focused on her duties —receiving the census updates and ships supplies requirements' from Billy, reading captains' concerns, coordinating refueling efforts for smaller ships—, she just couldn't stop thinking about Lee. She had urged him to leave the military less than a week ago and he hadn't exactly disagreed with her, but that wasn't an option anymore... she had every reason to be concerned for her son.

"He's holding up." Just like the rest of us. Bill had no doubt Lee had risen to the occasion and was the best CAG Galactica could have at the moment. Five days without sleep, more than two hundred cycles and most of them had zero losses. He was sure that was Lee's doing.

Laura flashed a drained smile towards her phone and nodded, even when she knew Bill couldn't see her. "I'm glad. If you talk to him..."

"I'll tell him you called," he said, like he had done each time she asked about Lee.

"Thank you, Commander." Nothing she said was new at this point, so she just repeated her own words from her previous calls. "Let me know if anything changes."

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The stacks of documents on the desk eventually gave way to another one resting on the floor, accumulated by the feet of it. The 'To be Addressed Later' pile grew on each cycle, as Val kept bringing more and more printed papers with her each time she came back from the cockpit, the never ending concerns of the fleet taking a toll on the already exhausted personnel.

"Two more ships presented malfunctions with their FTLs last cycle. That makes nine plus Colonial One," she said, shortly before handing the reports to Laura and occupying one of the free passenger seats close to the desk. Falling on the cushioned furniture, she rubbed her eyes in an effort to stay awake.

"Thank you. We're cutting it a little close..." Laura gave half of the new pile to Billy and glanced at the young woman over the rim of her glasses as she suggested, "You should get some sleep." Val had been helpful so far, but she had no obligation to keep on working. And yet, she had been a bridge between her mother's improvised office and the comm traffic from the cockpit, for which Laura was extremely grateful.

"No, it's okay. I wouldn't be able to anyway." She shook her head as she spoke, stopping mid-motion when she decided it was too much of an effort. "There's not enough time between jumps. Besides..." She didn't finish the sentence and instead closed her eyes. The continuous use of the FTL drives was tiresome for the ships as well, sooner or later one was bound to give up. And the thought of leaving people behind again was terrifying.

"At least the Cylons coming every thirty minutes means the press hasn't had time to reorganize after the attacks." Billy shot a small grin at his boss and Val giggled at the side effect, Laura drawing half a smile as she took her glasses off and rubbed her temples wearily.

"Lords help us all when they do. Explaining that the president and the commander have two children together and are still in their positions should take some doing," Laura mused.

"So don't let them argue." It was Val who replied, raising from her seat and taking a step towards them to lower her voice. "Release a statement explaining yours and Dad's situation instead of holding a press conference. I highly doubt anyone would disagree now."

"She has a point, ma'am," Billy conceded. Val felt a wave of heat rushing to her cheeks by his endorsement, which he failed to notice entirely. "Who else would volunteer for this?"

"No one. No one in their right minds anyway." She sighed, and the three of them paused at her words to glance over at Gaius Baltar who was curled into one of the passenger seats, his eyes darting to the empty seat beside him nervously.

When Laura and Billy looked back at each other, she rolled her eyes and he chuckled under his breath as both of them stared down at the expecting paperwork. Barely two seconds had passed when Billy cleared his throat. "Madam President, update on the head count." He spoke with dread as he held the piece of paper for her to take it, enough proof that the printed number on it wouldn't please her.

"That's my cue," Val mumbled, leaving them to go through the documents —which were practically a ritual by now— without further distractions. As she walked to an empty seat, however, Baltar caught her eye again and she approached him carefully, slouching as she reached him. "Doctor Baltar?"

He turned to her alarmingly, and she wondered if he had been so lost in thought that she had somehow interrupted his continuous stare at the empty seat. But as soon as he focused his eyes on her, it was gone. "Y-yes?"

"Are you okay, Doctor?" she asked. The man appeared to be in the same bad shape as anybody else since the Cylons' relentless attacks despite dozing off in fits, and even when she observed him sleeping, he would seem restless. But he was a valuable asset, as his intellect was their best bet at finding a permanent solution for the Cylon thread, when— if they managed to escape. "Do you need anything?"

A blond woman leaned towards him from the adjacent seat. "Do you want children, Gaius?" she asked, tilting her head as she spoke and toying with his hair.

"What? No—" He glanced briefly at his side before acknowledging the redhead again. "I mean yes, I'm fine. I appreciate the gesture, miss..."

"Vallaria," she reminded him. "Everyone calls me Val, though."

"Procreation is one of God's commandments," the Cylon pointed out. Evaluating the girl from head to toe, she smirked. "Wouldn't she be a fine candidate to carry them?"

Baltar straightened, suddenly interested by the idea. Not about children, of course, but Six was right in calling Val attractive; it would be a waste for him not to give it a try.

"That is a... beautiful name, Valerie,'" he assured her.

"Vallaria," she corrected him. "Like the main character in The Mirror's Shadow? My parents read that book when they were dating, so when I was born..." She shrugged. "But really, everyone calls me Val."

"Of course, my apologies. Vallaria. I mean, Val. Your name is as unusual as beautiful its owner." She flashed a polite smile towards him at the compliment.

Six's eyes darkened, turning her expression into a mischievous smile. "I'm sure the president and the commander will be ecstatic to welcome you into the family." To Val's surprise, Baltar's face became paler and his look widened abruptly. "Be careful, Gaius... I want us to have a child," the Cylon warned, suddenly not pleased at how easily he had taken the bait.

Val stared at him for a while. He was supposed to be their salvation? Frakking nutcase. She chose to attribute it to the lack of sleep, however, knowing that everyone dealt with it differently. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes, yes! Thank you for your concern, Miss Adama. There's nothing to worry about." He waved his hand dismissively, trying to sound as reassuring as possible; the girl was pretty enough, just like her mother, but none of them were worth it. If they managed to escape from the Cylons, Gaius wasn't stupid enough to elicit the rage of the people in power when there were other pretty women around— basic survival instinct.

"Okay. Well, if you need any—"

"What was that?" he asked, hanging his head around the corner of his seat and looking at Billy. His red-rimmed eyes stared back at the empty seat as his hand clutched the armrest beside him, and then at Val before jumping out of his seat and walking slowly towards the desk. "So sorry for interrupting you— and you, as well," he added, glancing briefly back at her, "while you were speaking— you were just saying?" His hand moved restlessly, down his pants, tugging at his sleeve and pulling his jacket closed, as if he could not stop and be still.

"I was saying that a Doctor Amarak had requested to speak with the President," Billy answered cautiously, eyeing Baltar with a mixture of fear and pity. The man was odd —very charming, of course— always polite and personable, but undoubtedly the destruction of the colonies and their subsequent escape had been too much for him.

"Doctor Amarak, I see." Baltar attempted to flash a smile at Laura, but failed to keep it on his face.

"You know him," Laura stated, her arms still folded across her chest as she waited for the man to process her question and reply, something that seemed to take him a startling amount of time.

"Yes!" He spoke over his shoulder at last, before looking back at her and repeating himself. "Yes. I used to work with him at the Ministry of Defense." She stared at him for a beat longer, smiling uncomfortably at his weird demeanor before Billy broke the tension by speaking up.

"It says here that he's uncovered important information, regarding how the Cylons were able to defeat Colonial defenses." Baltar seemed to grow even more agitated at the aide's words, nodding as he rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. Val raised her eyebrows and moved to her mother's side with curiosity.

"Were you...? Going to speak to him? Perhaps I should speak to him if you're busy—" He glanced from Billy to Laura and back again rapidly, and she shook her head and held up a hand, opening her mouth to protest.

"Actually..." Billy answered first. "I think he wanted to speak directly with the President. Uh, sounded urgent."

"Must be very, very important." Six eyed him with what appeared to be real concern over his cover, leaving her teasing aside for the moment. "Maybe something about a certain traitor in the president's inner circle?"

Laura observed Baltar for a moment as he touched his throat nervously and glanced around, as if close to tears. She shot a glance at Billy before speaking. "There's not enough time before we jump. I want him on board first thing during the next cycle." Billy nodded and scribbled a note, and she glanced up to see Baltar still there, staring vacantly into empty air. The man was frakking insane, really; Laura could only pity his inability to accept the destruction of the Colonies. "Oh, thank you, Doctor." She spoke softly and he glanced at her nervously, nodding repeatedly— in the same way a chicken did.

"If I can help." He nodded a few more times before turning on his heel and walking down the corridor and into the next compartment. She frowned after him and shook her head slightly, glancing down at Billy.

"He's a strange one, isn't he?" she mused aloud, looking down at Billy, who rolled his eyes.

"Cuckoo!" Billy sang and Laura nodded while Val let out a muffled snort of laughter.

"Alright, we have to go through these reports. Honey, can you contact CIC and let the commander know about my meeting with Doctor Amarak?" She sat down again in front of the documents and raised her eyes to glance at Val. "Perhaps he'll want to be present too. If that's the case, find out if he can work it into his schedule; if not, we'll just have to give him a report on it."

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"DC." Dee handed him another document as he and Tigh slowly walked down away from CIC. She had decided to deliver the reports like this now, following him around and shoving a pen into his hand as she exchanged one report for the next, giving only a brief acronym as to its origin as he checked them. There was no time for anything else. DC was Cottle's.

"Twelve more cases of nervous exhaustion, that makes sixty-one." He signed the report after barely more than a glance, handing it back to Dee as he spoke. "Have the doc start pumpin' them up with stimulants," he ordered, glancing at his XO as he walked with his hand extended behind him, awaiting the next report. "And get them back on the line. Pilots too."

"Fuel report," Dee delivered.

"One out of every three, every other cycle." Tigh gave him an eye roll followed by a soft snort.

"That's gonna come back to bite us in the ass," he pointed out, and Bill shrugged at his words.

"Yeah, well, we have too much work and not enough people to do it." They would have to start recruiting civilians eventually— but who knew when they would have the time to even seek out possible candidates within the fleet.

"Fuel report." Dee spoke again, barely keeping up and absolutely exhausted, placing the next paper into his hand as Bill frowned.

"I already signed one of this." He handed it back to her and she paused, staring blankly for a moment before shaking her head.

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir. Comm traffic, from the president." Bill stared down at the report in his hand for a moment, his thoughts briefly traveling to Laura as his movement came to a halt. "Miss Lynch called too," Dee kept talking, this time with a minor awkwardness in her tone. "She wanted to know the next time you'd be free, sir."

"Right. Is this my ten minutes or yours?" he asked Tigh, who shook his head immediately.

"Yours. I took ten last time."

"I'll see you guys in Combat." Saul's hand clapped his shoulder for a moment and Bill turned down the corridor, reading over the messages from Laura's office as he walked to the quarters that were Carolanne's now. She had been adamant on seeing him— contacting Dee every other cycle— asking for Bill. He was once again due to visit her, as had been for the past... several hundred jumps.

In the end, he was four feet away from her quarters when the report he read made him stop completely. An unknown scientist requested an audience with the president— to inform her about the fall of the Colonies. Something about his urgency didn't sit right with Bill; why couldn't this Doctor Amarak wait until the fleet had a break from the Cylons? Could this information help with their current situation? Whatever the case, he would feel more comfortable if the meeting took place aboard Galactica. He had already caved on not having Colonial One docked inside the battlestar's landing bay, even when it was probably the safest option for Laura and Val's ship, since every inch of space was needed for combat landings as a result of having a single one working. He would rather have the meeting on his terms, just in case.

He knocked the hatch anyway, and soon enough felt Carolanne's arms around him. "Took you long enough to come." She spoke softly despite her chiding as she moved for a kiss.

Bill met her lips and closed his eyes for a while, falling into the distraction willingly. But the report from the presidential spacecraft came back into his mind and he sighed, shooting her an apologetic look as they separated. "I can't stay," he said.

"What?! Bill, you just got here!"

"Something came up." She arched a brow accusingly, but Bill would be the first to admit that stuff kept coming up each cycle. "That's just how it is, Anne. I'll see you in about an hour," he promised, even when he felt that lately— an hour seemed to last a day, as every second ticked loudly on the clocks around the ship.

"If the Cylons don't get us before that," she retorted. "Try to get some rest, Bill. You're no use to anyone if you can't stay awake. Let the young ones do the heavy lifting for a cycle or two."

Bill let out a weary chuckle and shook his head slightly, it had to be him. He had to lead his men, give example. "I'll see you in an hour," he repeated as he reeled her in for another kiss, her hand reaching his neck to hold him close in response. His lips moved lazily over hers, one more clue of his tired state, and Carolanne's heart ached for him. He shouldn't have the burden of fifty thousand lives on him, not in this state. She had no doubt Bill Adama was the best person for the job, but that didn't mean it was fair for him. "Get some sleep for me," he joked.

Cupping his cheek, Carolanne grinned despite the sadness in her eyes. "An hour. I'll hold you to that."

He nodded and closed his eyes at her touch instinctively; he knew his body was ready to give into exhaustion and he needed to leave before he fell asleep on his feet. Reluctantly, Bill withdrew from her arms and gave Carolanne a last reassuring glance before retracing his steps up the passageway he had just came through.

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Tigh's eyebrows could have reached the ceiling when he saw Bill walking back into CIC. "Your ten?" he asked simply and Bill shook his head as he reached his XO.

"Change of plans. Dee, get me the president." The young officer nodded, establishing the comm link swiftly. "Madam President. About this Amarak— I want to hear what he has to say." He spoke evenly, deciding not to mention his concerns for the time being.

"Good. Can you spare a Raptor, Commander? I understand your pilots are under enough stress as it is, so, I'm thinking maybe one of Colonial One's can fly it."

"There is a problem, though. Colonel Tigh gets his rest on the next cycle, I have to be in CIC," he continued. "Won't make it unless you bring him here."

Laura took her time to consider it carefully. Their working relationship hadn't been long —about six days, give or take— and she had already realized Galactica was much more than just his ship— it was a bastion where her presidency sat diminished in favor of Commander Adama's power. If she agreed, there was a strong possibility he would be conducting the meeting instead of her. There was a reason why they barely spoke to each other on these years... but they were back on the same side, Laura had to remember that. And she needed the information.

"Very well, I'll have Colonial One docked after the next jump," she agreed. "Try to get some rest, Commander."

"You too, Madam President."