Jump 180

Under her feet, the black and white tiles formed a chess board pattern which Laura moved across. The dark, empty school hallway sent a chill down her spine. She didn't want to be there, she thought, wrapping her arms around her chilled body. Hesitantly, she approached a door with the name 'Ms. Roslin' tacked next to it. At the sight, Laura pursed her lips. She wanted to dream of fields, trees, and redheaded girls - she sighed in quiet protest at being dragged to her old classroom again.

Walking into what had once been a familiar, comforting space, Laura caught sight of Elosha sitting behind her old desk. Flickering candles made the air around her glow as the clergywoman flipped through the pages of the sacred scrolls. Laura kept her arms wrapped tightly around herself as she moved over to Elosha.

"You still haven't read the Pythian Prophecy?" she asked without looking up at Laura yet sensing her approach. At Laura's scoff, Elosha peered up at her, searching her face as if also examining her soul. "The Gods do not force us, Laura. They guide and instruct. You know this. You haven't completely lost your faith. But your kind and caring heart doesn't want to be hurt or to see those around you hurt."

"Alright. I'll admit, I've seen enough to believe there's higher powers out there. I wouldn't have Bill or my sons right now if not for some sort of intervention. What I don't understand is…why can't my fate be my own?" Laura asked, trying to ignore the feeling of how close death always felt at the mention of prophecy.

"Fate and choice are often one and the same, Laura," the woman sighed, giving her an enigmatic smile. Laura pursed her lips and tried to keep from shuddering. Elosha shook her head. "You're so determined to protect your husband from pain, from the fear of your death; it blinds you," Elosha said and watched as Laura shifted in front of her as if the truth made her uncomfortable. "I digress. I have news. More have received their memories," Elosha said.

"Billy remembers," Laura informed her.

"And you can guess which Lord of Kobol watches over him," Elosha replied, raising an eyebrow at Laura.

"Hermes. The right-hand God of Zeus and Hera. The messenger who also watched over traders and travelers," Laura guessed; Billy was her right-hand who helped her manage the civilian fleet. Elosha nodded and turned the scrolls around so Laura could examine the open page - a drawing of Hermes with his winged shoes and gold staff. When Elosha pushed forward the sacred scroll for Laura to get a better look, she recoiled from the text, tripping over a pile of abandoned books. As Laura fell to the floor, her body jolted awake.

Groaning, Laura lifted her head from the desk of her new executive office aboard Colonial One. The clock read 10 minutes left until their thirty-three minutes were up. Brushing her hair back, she glanced to her side and saw the whiteboard and the newly hung photo, "Lest We Forget." The photo was black-and-white showing a Colonial soldier dropping to his knees on Aerilon. Before him, the city of Eleusis burned, and looming dark clouds obscured the sun. It was the last photo taken on the Twelve Colonies, and it would remain on her wall; the enormity of the sorrow it represented creating an enduring memorial of the Colonial's loss.

"I remember that look. You're having visions again, aren't you?" Billy asked in a low whisper, looking at her from the other side of her desk. Laura rubbed a hand over her face; this was more agonizing than she remembered. Days without sleep, only catching the shortest of naps between jumps. Her bones felt heavy, as if she were physically wearing her sorrow, fear, and anxiety like a lead jacket around her body.

"I am," she replied after a moment.

"Does…does the Admiral know?" Billy asked nervously.

"You're forgetting where I lay my head at night," Laura stated and watched Billy blush. "Hard to keep many secrets from the person you're sleeping with," she said and cringed knowing that wasn't entirely true.

"What have you…"

"Mom?" Liam asked, and Laura motioned for Billy to stop the line of inquiry. She looked over at her son who had a mug in his hands. It took her longer than it normally would to realize he was giving her coffee.

She smiled at her darling boy; he was like a shining beacon that reminded Laura that things weren't so bleak – everything could be so much worse. Her son still had dirt from the Colonies on his shoes but was here trudging on and making the best of the situation with the rest of them. We'll find Earth again for you, Liam, Laura silently promised her son.

"Thank you," she murmured, accepting the coffee and the papers in Liam's outstretched hands.

Liam had been doing whatever he could around Colonial One to be useful without having been asked. He'd helped Billy sort piles of reports coming in, delivered papers to the different aides cramped in the office, and made sure there were rations to nibble at. He dodged around the constant flow of people coming in and out of the office and tried not to show how overwhelmed he felt at…everything. Laura let him help out, knowing it would keep her son distracted as he came to grips with all that had happened. Besides, Liam was the kind of boy who liked being useful - even though Billy had tripped over him several times.

"These are from Captain Russo - notes from some of the pilot's comm traffic. He says…he says some captains are talking about splitting off," Liam told his mother.

Laura frowned, looking at the report. These people had managed to survive the apocalypse only to throw away their best chance of survival with some foolhardy plan, she thought shaking her head. How could they be so short-sighted? Did they really think they'd make it very long on their own? Her heart was beating too quickly as she considered the report. Once the first Captain broke away, the Fleet would become a broken dam trying to retain water.

"The lone wolf dies while a pack survives," Laura sighed, wondering how she was supposed to convince a Fleet as large as this one to stay together. She'd have thought the protection of five Battlestars should do the trick, but she'd failed to account for how stupid individuals could be.

"Things are going to get better," Liam said. "Dad says it doesn't pay to get discouraged. I'm trying to remember that." Laura tried to remember when her son had grown up. It didn't seem so long ago that he was picking her flowers, reading on his father's lap, and believing everything his older siblings told him. When had he become wise?

Another aide stopped by and set some papers on her desk.

"Maybe there will be a paper shortage," Liam offered quietly, and even Billy chuckled at that.

"If only," Laura looked down at the reports, squinting through the hazy fuzz that was her vision. Looking at Russo's report, she wondered what she could do.

"Prepare for jump," the Captain said over the comms.

Jump 190

The Cylons new stealth technology made it impossible to detect when they jumped in. CAP alerted the Fleet to incoming enemy contacts days ago when they'd observed the flashes of incoming Cylons from the cockpits of their ships. The Fleet had jumped away right as the first civilian ship came under fire. Then they'd jumped again, and again. Over and over, again and again.

Many of the fleeing ships were damaged. Several were reporting problems with their FTL computers. Repair crews were doing the best they could while marines searched ships for tracking devices and stowed away Cylons. Perhaps it was lucky the people of the Colonies were aware of the human models; the population kept alert. After the first few jumps, Adama and Roslin had decided to play it safe; they'd ordered the Olympic Carrier evacuated, abandoning the passenger liner before jumping away. However, after thirty-three minutes, the Cylons appeared again anyway.

When the CAG reported incoming Cylons after they'd abandoned the Olympic Carrier, Adama felt his shoulders tense and his hands formed into fists on the tactical table. He'd felt completely disheartened. Their knowledge of the future wouldn't always be a shining path through the dark trees. He pushed against the incoming wave of hopelessness; if he lost himself to those feelings, he'd be useless to his people. That was unacceptable. He, Galactica, Colonial One, and Laura were the people's rallying points.

A voice crackled to life over the comm line as Adama was connected to the other Battlestar commanders.

"One of you boys wanna tell the Cylons it's not nice to stalk a lady?" Commander Yar asked, and Adama could hear the tired attempt at humor in her voice. Yar was like that. She was renowned as one of the biggest hard-ass commanders in the Colonial Fleet who delighted at having a wicked sense of humor. She kept people on their toes and at the top of their game.

"You're no frakkin' lady," Commander Dagon of the Prometheus snapped, and Adama barely kept from groaning out loud at his abrasive tone. Dagon was a less familiar name throughout the Colonial Fleet and, as Adama had quickly sensed, a less noble person than Yar.

The commanders of the five surviving Battlestars were like a set of chemicals that shouldn't be mixed; they were constantly in danger of setting each other off. At every interaction they were all waiting for an inevitable explosion. They were five very different personalities, five people who couldn't find any equilibrium amongst themselves other than following Adama. It was obvious to the Admiral that the surviving leadership had some severe wrinkles to iron out when they found the time. The exhaustion was making the problem worse, but they were doing their best to pull it together - the junior officers under their command needed hope and needed their leaders to work together.

"Hmph. So, rock bottom has a basement," Yar sighed. "At least I have you fine folks with me," she said, her Aerilon accent thick over the comm line on their conference call.

"Sitrep?" Adama cut in before any of the others could reply. Yar's levity was appreciated; he'd rather have commanders like Yar whose exhaustion manifested as borderline slap-happy than the murderously cranky attitude of Dagon. Their people needed to be uplifted right now, not pushed further down. However, they had business to discuss. Every ten jumps they checked in, exchanging reports on searches, casualties, and reports on damage. Each commander took a turn at giving a summarized briefing. More vipers down. Nervous exhaustion. No progress on upgrading DRADIS to detect Cylons.

Jump 201

"Hey, did we pass jump 200 yet?" Kara asked as she piloted her bird around the perimeter of the Fleet.

"201," Lee said from where he flew alongside her.

"Shit, now I've gotta wait 99 more jumps to have a nice whole number to celebrate!" she said with an almost maniacal laugh.

"Don't even joke like that!" Lee growled.

"Just needing a reason to celebrate being alive." Kara shifted, trying not to let her muscles cramp any more than they already had. From her first moment in a viper, she felt as if she'd been born to fly, but that didn't mean her body was meant to live in such a small space over the span of several days. She ached to be able to fully stretch out and take a run around Galactica.

"Or trying to find an excuse for a drink," Lee teased.

"Excuses are for dummies," Kara said.

Lee weaved silently through the Fleet beside Starbuck for a while, thinking. Excuses. How many had he hidden behind? How often had his pitiful justifications kept him from reaching his full potential. He could find justifications at the easy ways out he'd taken and the opportunities he'd missed.

Clarity hit him.

Lee could chalk it up to being overtired—the thoughts he was having about Kara. But there was a need invading his senses. The years stretched in his mind. How many opportunities had he wasted? He made a choice. No more excuses or mistakes.

"Kara?" Lee asked, knowing he was doing the right thing. He felt that to the depth of his soul.

"Yea, Lee?"

"Marry me?" he asked with his heart in his throat.

After a full minute of silence, Kara exploded in laughter. This was it. She'd finally tipped over into insanity. It just took a marriage proposal from Lee to finally do the trick.

"Kara?"

"You're serious?" she asked as her laughter subsided. A surge of emotions welled in her. "Marriage is a sacrament, Lee. A promise before the gods. It's… It's forever."

"I know."

Kara wanted to believe him. She really did. They'd been together for a while now, but there were still the forgotten years between them. Those missing years could come back to Lee: all the mistakes and heartache that had once proved to be an insurmountable mountain of baggage between them. And besides, marriage to her? Happily ever after didn't seem to be in Kara Thrace's special destiny. Getting married wouldn't suddenly fill her life with daisies and sunshine.

"This is crazy," she muttered. "Why, Lee?"

"It's the end of the world, Kara," Lee said. "And you're the most important person in it to me," he replied, piloting his viper in a smooth curve around the Astral Queen. He scowled at the sight of Tom Zarek's ship. "Excuses are for dummies. I'm not afraid of a life of craziness with you for however long the gods give us."

"OK," Kara replied, hearing the challenge in his voice and being too tired to argue. She wondered if they'd remember much of this patrol after they finally got sleep. They were currently wired and so high on stims that their skin was crawling and their minds… well, they'd clearly lost it. There's a level of tiredness that equates to insanity, and Kara was now sure they'd reached that point. Exhaustion, Cylons, and love would make a fool of anyone though.

In the cockpit of his viper, Lee smiled. Finally, something felt right. Every couple of minutes he'd managed to catch some sleep between jumps, he'd remembered more and more of a different timeline. A separate life seeped into his head, one that his parents and Kara had whispered about. As the memories came to him, Lee had the urge to do two things above all: hug Zak and love Kara.

He scoffed at the memories of his other life. So many mistakes but no one needed to know he remembered. He could simply be this timeline's Lee Adama with a father who was proud of him and a stepmother who loved him. This Lee didn't drown in guilt over Zak. He didn't lash out in righteous anger. No, Lee thought, he didn't want the memories pushing into his mind. He just wanted to not waste the new opportunity he'd been given.

Jump 220

"We've been put on notice," Commander Dagon said.

"What? What do you mean?" Asked Commander Pertinax.

"President Roslin denied my request to have additional medical personnel transferred to Prometheus. She's trying to tell us who's in control," he snarled, making his opinion of their new President clear from the tone of his voice.

"Civilians need medical attention too," Pertinax replied.

"Civilians aren't the ones piloting vipers. She's power mad. Are we really going to take orders from a schoolteacher?" Dagon asked.

"It's the law. She's the rightful president of the Colonies," Yar hissed, her joking attitude cast aside as she smelled the distinct odor of mutiny in the air. There were some things that were unacceptable. The Colonial Fleet was built on pride and honor. She'd be damned if she was part of any group that undermined those principles.

"Still a liability, but her ship's FTL has reported difficulty keeping up with the jumps…" Dagon muttered. At that Adama snapped.

"My wife, the President, is committed to ensuring the survival of our people," Adama said, letting the cat out of the bag concerning his relationship with the President. He and Laura had planned on handling the information with more finesse, but tired Admirals were often lacking in the finer points of diplomacy and finesse. "Just as we're dedicated to protecting the fleet. And an officer like you will know the Fleet rule on contemptuous language toward the President of the Colonies. Understood?" Adama asked, his voice as hard as steel as he referenced one of the Codes of Military Justice. Although, if he gave it some thought, that article and several others around it were designed to prevent active military officers from meddling in politics; it seemed ironic to invoke it now considering his marriage. Still, he wasn't ever going to tolerate an officer under his command openly hoping for Laura's death.

"Oh, I get it now. You're f…"

"Commander, I'd advise you to think carefully, very carefully, before you find yourself demoted to ensign," Adama growled in a low voice, cutting Dagon off. There was a flash of heat in his blood at the reminder of the danger his wife was in. People were frightened and angry right now. Hurt people often lashed out. "Remember who the real enemy is," he said as his fierce, unyielding protectiveness of Laura rose up in him. He would make selecting the President's Secret Service the next thing he did when this crisis was over. He'd already sent marines to Colonial One, despite his wife's protest. He would hand select the bodyguards for her Secret Service, ensuring her safety.

He pinched the bridge of his nose - being married to the President of the Colonies was going to make this experience very different than the timeline when he'd been her enemy, turned friend, turned lover.

Jump 230

"Admiral Adama. Sir, President Roslin's on the line," Dualla reported, gesturing toward the bulky comm unit at the tactical table.

"Adama," he said into the speaker, his voice sounding like it was being dragged over coarse gravel. He sounded as worn as he felt.

"Admiral, we have a problem. Two of the civilian ships decided to break away and make a run for it on their own. A third is threatening to do the same. I've tried negotiating with them," Laura said without preamble.

"If there's a captain that feels they can do better on their own, they are welcome to leave," Adama stated, his frustration mounting.

"That's unacceptable. Survival is a numbers game," she replied bluntly, and her tone made him feel as if she could be addressing a small child and not the Admiral of the Fleet.

"I'm not going to hold the civilian's hands and demand they walk together like they're kindergarteners on a field trip," Adama said in an angry voice. This wasn't the time or place to be pandering to the whims of needy civilians. He had enough to do with keeping the Cylons from obliterating the Fleet. On top of that was the need to discover how they were being tracked. And sleep. They all needed sleep. They were all tittering on the brink of insanity at the lack of sleep and relentless pursuit.

"And what happens when the Fleet starts completely fracturing?" she asked him. He could feel an old but familiar sensation; his hackles rising, signaling the beginning of one of their once infamous arguments.

"Isn't that an overreaction?" he asked, and he heard Laura's indignant scoff over the line.

"Cylons will pick off humanity bit by bit," Laura said. He didn't reply for a few long moments as he considered the options.

"I'll see what I can do," he conceded.

"Thank you," she said softly, and he could hear her exhaustion.

"Come to Galactica, Laura. Your ship's FTL computer…"

"I'm staying here," she said, bristling at the commanding tone he'd tried to use with her. Didn't he know better by now?

"Dammit Laura, why can't you consider your own safety?" he demanded, the lack of sleep let the irritation he felt bleed into his tone.

"I can't always hide on Galactica, Bill. There's work to be done," she whispered. She could almost feel the tension in his body over the phone, see the way his brows were furrowed, and how he clutched the receiver. She opened her mouth to promise to come home when the crisis was over, but her voice wasn't working. A few moments of the clock ticking its countdown passed and they both know they needed to sign off as their thirty-three minutes were soon up.

"Galactica out," Adama finally said.

Jump 238

"Sir, Fleet count is in," Dualla reported from her station. Adama turned and saw Dee rubbing her eyes and shaking her head before looking back down at her screen. The young woman was more drained than several others on the bridge. She had the responsibility of checking in every ship after every jump. It took nearly half the 33 minutes to corroborate that everyone had made it. 220 Civilian ships. "All civilian ships accounted for, but we're missing the Escort Ship Agamemnon."

There were any number of reasons for the missing escort ship. Left behind. Wrong coordinates. Computer Error. With how many rapid jumps they'd made back to back, it was a miracle they'd left no one else behind. Still, any loss weighed heavily on the remaining Colonial military.

"How many?" Colonel Tigh asked.

"1,478 souls," Dualla whispered.

Jump 239

After a couple of hours, the fleeing Colonials truly believed they'd caught a break.

When the Escort Ship Agamemnon unexpectedly jumped back to the Fleet, panic ensued. Alarms, which sounded like the horns of a juggernaut, blared unceasing through the metal corridors of the military ships.

Starbuck, Apollo, and Boomer flew toward the escort-class ship, trying to raise it on comms. They were met with complete radio silence and no signal lights.

The Agamemnon barreled toward the Fleet at full speed.

Adama, Tigh, Roslin, and Starbuck felt a sinking feeling in their guts. Roslin and Adama immediately ordered the Fleet to spool their FTLs. It would take a few minutes to escape though, and the Agamemnon was blazing toward them.

"The Cylons got to them," Starbuck murmured over the comm. Are we sure though? She thought. Are we absolutely sure?

"The ship poses a threat to us and we have to climate that threat," Laura said into the phone, feeling her hand tremble slightly. Her heart thundered in her chest and she could taste bile in her mouth. The fates of thousands once again in their hands. She never forgot the heavy toll ordering the destruction of the Olympic Carrier had taken on Captain Apollo.

"We'll evacuate the personnel and destroy the ship," Adama said, feeling the horrible déjà vu again. They'd done the right thing ordering the Olympic Carrier shot down so long ago, he'd always believed that. The needs of the many had to prevail.

"They're going to be in among Fleet in a minute," Starbuck said, looking at how fast the Agamemnon speed toward the Fleet.

"Radiological alarm," Dualla called from her station.

"Bill, it's a military ship," Laura said, officially handing over the call to him.

It was a military decision, so he made it.

When the decision to destroy the Agamemnon was handed down, Lee felt his insides clench. He repeated the number of doomed souls in his mind if he fired on the ship. His finger moved over the trigger. He ordered himself to press the button, but he couldn't do it. His mind wouldn't let go of the image of a piece of paper and the elegant cursive words 'Olympic Carrier'. Lee hesitated.

Beside him, Kara engaged with her guns, but one Viper against a Colonial Escort Class ship wasn't enough.

Agamemnon crashed into the Battlestar Yashuman, destroying both ships in a brilliant, blinding flash of white light.

The Cylons stopped following them.

Home

William Adama slumped on the couch in his quarters trying to find his sense of inner peace. After the destruction of Agamemnon and Yashuman, people had looked at him, trying to gauge his emotional state as if it were a ruler to measure their own reaction against. He'd no doubt everyone on Colonial One was doing the same to Laura. After it became clear the Cylons weren't following them, he finally went home. His quarters were supposed to be his retreat from the stress of commanding the Fleet and where the weight of humanity's survival could be lifted from his shoulders for a bit. It was taking far longer than usual for him to set aside the burdens of the day.

He heard the hatch open and without looking knew it was Laura who'd come home. An easy deduction. No one but his wife was allowed to just walk in. She lived here too now. It would be an adjustment, having somebody in his quarters all the time, someone who knew him as intimately as she did. Privacy was a thing of the past. There was no more hiding in his quarters; it was now shared space. That thought wasn't as intimidating as it once might have been. Home was Laura.

He felt the couch dip down next to him, and a head rest on his shoulder. He offered her a sip of his ambrosia, but she declined. Her silent presence beside him was like a balm to his weary soul. She reached over and entwined her fingers with his free hand, saying nothing as she brought his hand to her lips and kissed his knuckles lightly. He never thought he'd end up with someone so warm and affectionate. There was no way he could have imagined how loving he and Laura could be; that's not who they were to the outside world.

Laura felt calmer once home with her husband. He was her anchor, the calm she missed when everything became too much. His hand was warm in her own, his fingers thick and strong and slightly calloused.

"Heavy losses today," Laura murmured as her thumb traced patterns over his knuckles.

"Where's Liam?"

"With Zak."

"I always say I don't navel gaze. A man lives with the choices he makes," Bill said, taking a sip of his ambrosia. He let it burn down his throat, feeling a small relief at the sensation.

"But we also need to learn from our mistakes," Laura countered, pointing out the flaw in his logic. "Life's not fair. Death isn't any fairer. You know that," Laura said, curling further into his side.

"We nearly came to blows over the comm today," Bill remembered.

"Exhaustion doesn't bring out the best in us. And…" Laura trailed off before looking up at her husband. "We're different people. Those differences that can draw us apart and cause us to fight, they are also what pull us together and make us such a good team. We just…need to find our balance again," Laura said.

"I don't want to lose my wife to this nightmare," Bill said, seeing how the pressure of leading the fleet could easily bleed into their marriage and rip them apart.

"Never," Laura promised.

"I'm so tired, I don't know if I can sleep," Bill said, rubbing a hand over his face. "I'm going to go shave at least."

"I have a few reports to glance at before going to bed."

"Rack," Bill corrected and found himself on the receiving end of his wife's withering glare. A lesser man might have spontaneously combusted, but he chuckled and stood up, moving toward the head.

Laura pulled a few reports from her bag, needing to at least make sure there was nothing urgent in the papers Billy had handed her before she left Colonial One. Flipping through, she saw it was mostly ration distribution plans. However, seeing Baltar's name at the top of an incident report instantly made her blood boil.

"Oh my gods," she sighed, grating her teeth as she jumped to her feet, needing to pace around. Too fast, she realized. Her vision blurred. She was vaguely aware of the ground rushing up to meet her before her world went dark.

…

Author's note: I won't be going episode by episode. Too much. But, I wanted to show how knowledge of the future and trying to make a better choice isn't always a good thing in this.

I'd love, love, love to hear what you thought. Drop me a comment.