Now that life's back to normal, I'll be trying to post more regularly and get this thing finished! Thanks for the reviews from those still reading, and happy Monday!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything this week I didn't own last.

Too High a Cost
By: Mariel

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Chapter 21

Response

...so what do we do?

Tigh's question hung in the air.

"We let them land," Adama said.

The Colonel frowned at him. "I just said we can't do that. We have no place to put them and it'll be seen as an open invitation to the rest."

Adama ignored the protest and looked at Cottle. "Sorry," he apologised. His expression indicating he understood how much he was asking of his CMO, he continued, "We have to do this, Jack. You're going to have to work a miracle of some sort. Tell me what you need, and if we've got it, it's yours."

Jack nodded. Revealing none of the trepidation he was feeling, he cleared his throat. As his mind worked out possibilities for an impossible situation, he said gruffly, "If it's only a miracle you're looking for, I can probably find a stray one lying around here somewhere."

Nodding his appreciation, Adama then turned towards the Colonel. "Let them land, Saul. It's the only thing we can do. Think about it."

"They could be ordered back to the Aurora," Laura suggested pointedly. Now almost convinced that this was turning into a situation where the few had to be sacrificed for the many, she continued, "We cannot allow them to land here. The Galactica is our only defence against the cylons. Letting a concentrated group of the sickest people in the fleet on board could seriously endanger the health of your own people - which would make us even more vulnerable if the cylons appear."

"We can't order them back.The Aurora made its refusal to accept them loud and clear," Bill reminded her. "If the military tries to force the Aurora to take them back, it'll destroy whatever workable relations we've managed to create between the military and the civilian population. We can't do that. Let them board," he insisted. "Give clearance to the shuttle with the two dead only, and put the passengers on it in quarantine when they disembark. Ask the other shuttles to wait. Let the rest of the civilian fleet know it will take time for us to organise our resources so that we can help."

Tigh looked at Bill askance. This was a whole new Adama. Since when did Roslin give the military priority and Bill the civilians? "What's going to make the other shuttles agree to wait?" he asked. "Once they see the first one dance its way onboard, nothing short of being shot at is going to stop them from following."

"Perhaps we could let the shuttles land, but keep everyone confined to them," Roslin suggested.

"And when people attempt to leave the shuttles - which we all know will happen - how do you propose we stop them? Do you really want my people pointing guns at them?" Bill asked.

Roslin opened her mouth to reply, then found she had nothing as a rebuttal. He was right; if he was going to insist on allowing them on board, it was a bad idea to try to keep them on the shuttles - and any force used against the sick and dying would result in disaster. She sat back, still feeling that the shuttles should be kept off the ship, but knowing that this was a military decision that, for once, would please the general population.

There was no way she could object to it.

Bill seemed to understand her conflicted feelings. "We'll pay a price no matter what we do, Madame President, but the cost of not allowing them to board would be too high," he said quietly. Pausing a moment, he then turned to Tigh and reviewed what needed to be done: "Bring the shuttle on board. Tell the other shuttle pilots we'll make space available if necessary, but that we need time. Get some supplies to them so that they know we're taking care of them. Then contact Valerant. Since we can't find DeCourt, I want to see him personally." He looked at Cottle. "Any real reason I can't go speak with him myself?"

Cottle considered his answer briefly, then asked, "Go speak with as in 'leave Life Station and travel to another ship in order to talk'?"

When the Admiral nodded, the doctor bit back an immediate refusal and paused to think. He then shook his head. "Sorry. There are lots of reasons I can't let you go. At least not straight away." Knowing if he pushed too far, Bill would just get up and leave anyway, he shot for the best he thought he could get: "Can you wait twelve hours?" he asked. "You know I wouldn't ask if I didn't think it was imperative. I'm not comfortable with this sudden miraculous recovery of yours. Something's not right about it, and I'm concerned enough I've told the lab to run the blood tests in spite of it taking time away from the antibiotic research. I don't want you away from medical facilities; for all I know you could relapse, or seizure, or gods knows what at any minute."

"Suddenly I'm not feeling so well," Adama remarked dryly. "Where's that famed Cottle optimism?"

"I'm being damned optimistic," Cottle shot back. "I'm being so damned frakking opimisitic my teeth hurt! I shouldn't let you out of my sight for another forty-eight hours, minimum! You're back and you're needed, and you won't do anyone any good if you end up dead or damaged somewhere out in the fleet because I let you do something you shouldn't too soon."

"I feel fine," he insisted.

"I know you do, but remember why you hired me. I can't let you go."

Adama paused a moment, then asked, "You willing to negotiate the twelve hours?"

"No."

The answer was firm and unequivocal. The two men regarded one another silently.

The others waited for Adama's response. They all knew that he'd do whatever he chose and that once his mind was made up it would be pointless to try to change it. They also knew, however, that his long-term survival was critical. Given his recent actions on Kobol, however, they weren't certain he cared any more.

Laura, realising she was holding her breath, tried to relax the hold she had on the headboard. She opened her mouth to speak, but stopped when Bill moved.

Exhaling softly, he nodded. There were reasons he'd hired this man as his CMO and those reasons hadn't changed over time. He also had to admit to how much it had taken out of him earlier just to get to the head and back. Perhaps he did need more time, especially if Valerant proved to be more obstreperous to deal with than he hoped.

"Twelve hours. That's it. Then I'm out of here," he agreed reluctantly.

Cottle looked at him. Made uneasy by Bill's easy capitulation, he wondered if he should have asked for more time.

Adama, however, didn't give him the opportunity to voice second thoughts. His decision made, he turned to Tigh and Lee. Beginning to feel tired, he said, "If I'm going to be here another twelve hours, let people know what we plan. Tell Valerant I'd like to see him first thing tomorrow morning, if he's willing. People are going to have to be patient for a while longer."

Feeling confident that his father had enough good will amongst the fleet to ask for that amount of time, Lee stepped forward. "Twelve hours isn't too much to ask for, Dad," he said reassuringly. "They'll agree to wait."

Suddenly weary, Adama closed his eyes. "Do what you can." His voice sounded low and gravelly when he slowly reopened his eyes and added, "Tell them the first shuttle landing is a sign of good faith. Get help to the other shuttles, and get me the captain of the Adriatic on the line asap."

Seeing Bill's exhaustion, Laura shot a concerned glance towards Cottle and then leaned forward slightly to protest his need to speak to the Adriatic's captain. Someone else could frakking do that. Bill gave her a look, however, that told her he knew what she was going to say and that she had better not. Swallowing her suggestion, she straightened.

Aware of some of the silent communication that had just taken place between his father and the President, Lee stepped forward. "Why don't I speak to the Adriatic's captain, Dad? If I don't feel comfortable about his intentions, I'll get a phone line in here for you to speak with him yourself."

Adama looked at his son, then nodded. It was time to trust. "That would be fine. Thank you."

"My office will put out a press release about the antibiotic, but I think it should be done jointly with Doctor Cottle," Laura said. "And Doctor, if you could provide a couple of researchers to be interviewed and report on the progress made, I'd appreciate it. I'm sure most people will listen. The ones who don't are going to be a problem no matter what we do or say."

Cottle nodded, then inhaled deeply. Looking at Adama with concern, he exhaled noisily and looked around at the small group. "Okay," he said gruffly, "party's over. Everyone's got a job to do, so let's go do it. You," he said, looking down at the Admiral sternly, "are to get more shut eye." Turning to the President, he admonished, "And tell that aide of yours to haul ass and organise the press conference for you. It's not as though you couldn't use some rest as well." His gaze going from one patient to the other, he growled, "I'd feel a whole hell of a lot better if you two would start acting like you'd been shot and almost died."

While the doctor continued to complain, Lee and Saul made their way towards the door, thankful in more ways than one that they could leave.

-xxx-

Striding down corridors lit more dimly in a silent signal that ship's night was approaching, Kara sighed. "Your father isn't going to be happy about this," she said unnecessarily.

"Tell me about it," Lee sighed. "Thank the gods he doesn't seem quite as cold towards her as he was."

"He's back to normal?" she asked hopefully.

He shook his head and allowed her to precede him through a hatchway on their way to Life Station. "I wouldn't go that far," he told her. "It's kind of hard to tell, because we're operating under a crisis situation, but I think maybe he's eased up a little, at least."

"Even with the President?"

"Yeah, I think so. He looks at her without scowling, anyway, and I think they were almost in agreement a few times this morning. The meeting this afternoon was a bit different, but at least they weren't opening hating each other."

She smiled in relief. "Baby steps, eh? We may be getting the Old Man back!"

"I wouldn't hold my breath. We'll see when he reacts to this piece of news."

Kara's smile faded.

After a moment's shared silence, she said, "Valerant does has a point. I'd be making the same demand, I think."

Lee grunted. "Think that all you like, but don't you dare say it in front of my father. We've got enough to deal with. The last thing we need is him arguing with you, too."

Drawing to a stop at the Life Station entrance, he looked around for the CMO. "We need to check in with Cottle, first," he explained. "He's decided he wants to know who's going in and out of Dad's room."

Kara's grin returned. "Once everyone knows your father's regained consciousness, there'll be no stopping people from seeing him. Cottle loves playing control freak, though. "

The control freak in question turned a corner and walked towards them.

His eyes squinting against the smoke rising from the burning end of a cigarette he held loosely between his lips, Cottle asked, "What are you two doing here?"

"Nice to see you, too, doc," Kara said.

He gave her a look. "That goes without saying," he harrumphed. Looking at Lee, he said, "I'm surprised to see you back tonight. I thought everything was arranged - and I'm sure I told everyone that I wanted the Admiral to rest until tomorrow."

"Valerant's thrown a spanner into the works," Lee told him. "I need to talk it over with Dad and the President."

Nodding, the doctor turned to Kara. "And what are you here for?"

"Moral support."

Cottle's eyebrows rose and his glance travelled between the two of them. "That bad, eh?"

"Could be," Kara said.

"Or could be you just need to see with your own two little eyes that the Old Man's okay. You haven't seen him since he regained consciousness this morning, have you?" Cottle observed.

She shrugged. There was that, too. Frak the old bastard for pointing it out, though.

"You're going to let me see him, aren't you?"

"Yeah, I'm going to let you in. Better that than trying to catch you sneaking by me when I'm busy."

She grinned, her disgruntlement over Cottle's pointing out her concern for Adama forgotten. "You're wise beyond your years, sir. Who'd have thought there was even that much smart out there?"

He scowled. "Everyone's a comic. Now, get going, and don't make it too long, or I'll be in to kick your asses out personally."

Lee hesitated. He'd need Cottle's medical okay for this, so he said, "You should probably come with us."

Looking at them closely, Cottle inhaled on his cigarette, then let smoke billow out around his next words.

"You've got my attention."

"How about we go in and I say it just once?" Lee asked him.

Cottle nodded and ashes tumbled from the glowing end of his cigarette. Brushing them casually off his chest with one hand, he waved his other arm, indicating they should proceed.

End
Chapter 21