Pacing down Memorial Hall, Laura considered her limited options for vice president. After mentally rounding up the available candidates from the people in the Fleet and lining them up in her head, she tried to determine who could be approached. One by one, she knocked down the possible candidates as she turned and strode up the hall, passing by the photos and momentos mourners left behind. The faces in the photos distracted her, some of them freshly placed and other images worn from where fingers touched fading ink, but all of them seemingly begging for her to take care of the people they'd left behind to struggle for survival.
Laura sighed, the sound swallowed into the hiss of CO2 scrubbers and hum of machinery. She rubbed her baby's back and tried to imagine a future, in any timeline, when the Fleet hadn't had to endure New Caprica. What did losing their struggle to stop the apocalypse but still finding a better future look like? Laura wondered if a better future had her at the helm as president. Her naïveté, her idealism, her morals, and now her sanity had all been demanded as a sacrifice for her people. She wondered if maybe she had nothing left to give other than to stand aside. After all, she'd never been duly elected and she'd made mistakes—sometimes terrible mistakes. In the sight of so many photos of those they'd lost, it seemed not enough to say she'd fixed what she could.
Yet could she trust the fate of her people, of her sons and daughter, to anyone but herself and Bill—despite whatever hubris that implied. Why couldn't someone who'd have made a better president with better choices have survived.
Knowing her thoughts were going in circles, Laura turned and walked back down Galactica's Memorial Hall with its heavy atmosphere of fading memory and shadows cast from the dimmed lights of a Battlestar's night shift. Her thoughts chased each other in circles; they had survived, they had found a new home, and the press expected an answer by morning so that the public had time to weigh the choice, and she was tired. Too on edge and too tired to sleep, she kept walking. Jogging tempted her; running through these halls had once offered her relief from her debilitating dark emotions. "I've played my role in this farce," she'd said during that time.
But she held Evelyn, so jogging was out. Instead she walked and pondered; Billy wasn't legally old enough to be a candidate. Lee was linked too closely to her so choosing him would cause people to cry monarchy. Maybe if Tory hadn't turned? Should she find Romo Lampkin? Sighing in frustration, she gazed down at Evelyn, looking at the curve of her closed eyelids and her long lashes against cheeks. Laura hugged her baby close to her heart and thought about how fragile life was and remembered a time she believed it safer to love no one at all.
The tumbling thoughts and clicking of her heels was drowned out by approaching voices and Laura tucked herself back into a little alcove. She hoped whoever burned the midnight oil would pass her by.
"Hey, slow down. I've been looking all over for you!"
"Not like I can get far away."
"Are you drunk?"
"I'm still functional," Kara snorted.
"I'll take that as a 'yes,'" Lee said. Laura grimaced when she heard Kara stumble into Memorial Hall, but Lee's controlled footsteps followed, so Laura stayed pressed into the shadows. The family had been apprised of her post-traumatic stress disorder diagnosis and Laura couldn't handle deflecting questions on her admittedly not great well-being. The crashing sound of Kara plowing into some crates disturbed the peace of Memorial Hall and Laura doubted Kara wanted to answer any questions about her own troubled state either. Distracted from her looping thoughts on a possible vice president candidate, Laura listened to Kara being helped up. Thankfully, the baby stayed asleep.
"What were you trying to do?" Lee asked Kara after he picked her up.
"Well, you see, I had a theory that decking Baltar for his brilliant idea of settling on New Caprica would make me feel better. Are you sure I shouldn't?"
"Yes. That time's over now."
"What if I promise to only break his nose a little bit?"
"Kara..."
"Can I explain in painstaking detail how much of a dumbass you are for defending him? You're lucky so, so, so lucky I was dead during that debacle."
"It was a bad time for all of us."
"You don't say, Mr. Understatement," Kara huffed and Laura swallowed her own biting comments. I'm on Kara's side, she thought from her place in the dark.
Laura watched Kara make her way over to the newest picture in the hall. She leaned on her elbows against a crate in front of the photo and studied the handsome man. Kara's shoulders slumped. They'd buried Karl Agathon among the stars that morning. After the funeral, Kara, Lee, Boomer, and Sharon Agathon all hung Helo's picture next to his fallen comrades in Memorial Hall. No one questioned why the grief-stricken Cylon had assumed her dead lover's last name; they knew Helo would have approved. Sharon Agathon now resided with her daughter in the billet she'd shared with Helo while under house arrest, and guards no longer followed her. Her own people killing Helo and trying to take her baby ended whatever lingering loyalty she maintained toward them, and she'd petitioned Adama to take the oaths of a Colonial Officer.
"I'm going to miss him," Lee admitted. "He was a goody two-shoes, but…"
"...but the kind of guy who made humanity worth saving."
"I was gonna say he is… he was the kind of guy you'd want in the cockpit next to you."
A tired silence stretched between the people in Memorial Hall, all of them in need of true rest. The couple and the unseen woman all wrestled with their thoughts until Kara finally broke the peace. "Do you ever want to forget everything?"
Laura felt a pang in her heart as she and Lee considered the question. She stayed still as Lee walked along the hall, straightening up momentos he passed. He lingered on a small teddy bear left in memory of a child as he spoke. "After we settled on Earth people wanted to forget. The memories of our journey faded, and the day came when I couldn't recall what the people I'd fought and lived with looked like anymore. After that, I wanted so badly to stand in this hall one more time, look at the faces, and remember that I served with heroes. People like Helo."
"You're right."
"Did you just agree with me?"
"I could take—"
"Nope, no take-backs," Lee said, turning to Kara with a triumphant look because he'd made her smile. Kara harrumphed. Giving the most exaggerated eye roll possible, Lee walked back over to her and offered her his arm so she wouldn't crash into anything else on their way home. The sounds of feet dragging along the corridor passed by Laura, but neither of them noticed her. As they left, Laura caught Lee's final remarks: "I know seeing New Caprica is hard and I know it takes guts to believe that we'll build a new home and shape a better future. I think it's incredible that somehow after everything, you and Laura keep believing. It's one of the reasons why dad and I would follow you both to the end of the universe."
Laura stifled a gasp. When their footsteps faded into the distance, Laura pushed away from the shadows and let out the deep, heaving breaths she'd held back while listening to Lee. Her heart ached for him, understanding the torment at being the one left alive. She shared Starbuck's pain at the burden of memory they bore and trauma they experienced. Numbly placing one foot in front of the other, she glided over to Helo's photo. Reflecting on how Lee clung to his old Captain Apollo idealism, she knew Helo would approve. She'd never been the perfect person Lee seemed to want those closest to him to be, and she'd disillusioned him with the choices she thought needed to be made for the survival of the Fleet, good or bad. She smiled sadly, knowing she needed to finish choosing her vice president candidate, but now she felt a little lighter after overhearing that Lee still believed in her.
"Sometimes your daddy and I have to remind each other never to give up hope," she whispered to her sleeping daughter as she dropped a kiss on her soft tuft of red hair. The gods might have intended for her child to be a symbol of hope for the Fleet, but Evie and Liam, neither of whom existed in the previous timeline, would always be Laura's own concrete proof that things could be different. Holding her beloved daughter close, Laura whispered, "It's hard for me right now."
Hypervigilant to her surroundings nowadays, her anxiety-sharpened ears picked up on the sound of tip-toed steps too close to her. Unstoppable panic welled up in her, electrifying her from the tips of her toes to her fingers. Lately and involuntarily, she acted like danger lurked around every corner. It didn't matter that Laura knew she was on Galactica and she knew the people onboard. Her heartbeat surged and she whirled around.
"What are you doing here?" she snapped, seeing Baltar trying to slink away from where it looked like he'd been hiding. She couldn't see the invisible blonde Cylon in a red embroidered black dress so tight it seemed like a second skin who tried to pull Baltar away. Startled by his presence so close to her, Laura's reality narrowed and she saw only the man who'd used New Caprica as a political tool to get elected and how he settled the Fleet on it after dismissing the science surveys that clearly said the planet was a bad choice. She remembered how he retaliated against the polls that predicted her winning the election by shirking his own scientific knowledge. Every piece of why they ended up on New Caprica and why they were found by the Cylons she traced to Baltar, in addition to the fact that they had to run for reasons that were also his fault. She felt sick to her stomach and felt the walls closing in on her, even though part of mind told her she wasn't being rational.
Caught, Baltar checked his escape routes before pulling himself up straight, his invisible Six whispering in his ear and telling him to face his demons. "I was making sure your dear stepson had control of your rather volatile daughter-in-law. A kind gesture on my part considering the nature of her visit and subsequent attitude."
"Can you blame her?" Laura asked him bluntly. Her eyes narrowed at him.
"For frak's sake! Will it ever count when I save you or your husband's godsdamn lives and the lives of the rest of the Fleet? Bloody frakin' hell."
"Language," invisible Six chided. "Don't blaspheme God in your anger." A Cheshire grin appeared on Six's face as she surveyed the scene. The woman, Baltar's private vision of heaven and hell, leaned against the wall and watched the entertainment, offering little advice. "Keep your dignity."
"Will the people who suffered because of you ever count?!"
"Are we just back to yelling in this hallway again?" Baltar asked. He looked around Memorial Hall dramatically and gestured around them with exaggerated arm movements. His eyes fixed on Caprica stifling her amused laughter at their expense and Baltar gritted his teeth, disliking feeling foolish. No, he wanted, he needed, to finally appear as if nothing Laura Roslin threatened or did could bother him anymore. He took on the most flippant tone he could muster. "Maybe your guards can show up and strip search me again? Or we can go visit Dr. Cottle and enjoy some needles and drugs being stuck in me."
She froze. His words sent her mind back there; to a bright concrete cell where she'd been told to strip and handed a jumpsuit; to Cavil with his drugs and needles. Her breathing became short. Even though she'd been calmer from the anxiety medication Cottle put her on—drugs the good doctor had stockpiled after experiencing what it was like in the apocalypse when they ran out of such things—a cold sweat broke out over Laura's skin as she tried to pull her mind back. They'd all suffered. Even Baltar. They'd all learned. She'd saved his life. Hadn't she forgiven him?
"Sorry," she murmured. Laura took a shuddering breath, searching for words. She felt dizzy but pressed on, trying to calm down. "You're right. And you did save my husband for which I'm indescribably grateful. I can admit that. There's just a lot of memories that have been dragged out recently. Many that no one wants to relive."
"Least of all me."
"You must live your destiny, Gaius," Six hissed. "You were meant to help lead these people. You should've been running for President like I told you!"
"Maybe we should try something different," Baltar said to Laura, surprised by her apology and watching her warily while only half listening to Six.
"I'm trying!" Laura said, looking at all the photos around her, feeling the pressure to protect those who were left. If she was at full strength, she'd glare at Baltar and watch him become his shifty, uncomfortable self under the inferno of her gaze. Instead she looked around Memorial Hall, trying to catch her breath. She needed to focus on her surroundings and pull back from the memories. I'm safe, I'm on Galactica. Bill's here, she reminded herself. The doctor explained how to try to stay grounded, and so she listened for the CO2 hiss.
"Something's wrong with her," Six said, moving away from the wall to saunter around the president.
"Are you alright?"
"Fine," Laura said, but her daughter was now unhappily awakened from their noise and she whimpered and squirmed in her wrap. Laura couldn't seem to calm either of them. She backed into a wall, and it helped keep her upright.
"No, you're not. Sit down, Laura," Baltar said as he studied her. Despite his look of concern, she predictably shot him a withering look, but Baltar refrained from rolling his eyes. For a moment, Laura reminded him of Gina, and the sobering thought chilled Baltar's soul. He'd learned how to deal with Gina though, and he spoke to Laura calmly and with understanding at why she lashed out despite how the animosity between them had cooled. Like with Gina, it wasn't her fault. "Sit down and calm down. We need you to survive until the election that I hope to the gods you win."
"What?" Invisible Six demanded.
"What?" Laura asked. She waited a moment. Not taking her eyes off him, she slid down until she sat on the ground, feeling significantly more physically stable. She didn't want to deal with Baltar, especially when she felt like her sanity constantly ebbed and flowed to and from her. Dealing with shifting sands and a world that felt like it could come crashing down at any second didn't leave her in her best fighting form. She didn't thank him when he sat down on the wall opposite her so that he didn't seem so tall. She just looked at Baltar with steely eyes as she waited for him to talk.
"It would have been better if you'd won," he offered.
"Maybe. Who really knows anymore."
"Umm everyone who remembers," Baltar said as he studied Laura. "You know I had a bit of a crush on you once?" he said unexpectedly. Shocked at the turn, Laura raised an imperious eyebrow at him that warned him to tread carefully. "I disliked you at the same time. Most people saw me as a brilliant scientist, but you called out my personal faults. You gave me that letter when I was supposed to succeed you, and I still remember the anger that someone dared think me incapable of the job. The worst part was that you were right in how those traits compromised me. I can admit now that I was the embodiment of some of the worst qualities in humanity: greed, envy, envy of you, a weak will, cowardice…"
"Ego."
"Insane," Six added.
"Oh, thank you, I knew I missed one."
"Lazy."
"Obviously you get the point. That was the point. God uses even the flawed, and I played my part at the end with Hera. One reason I ran was because I was disgusted when I thought you ordered Hera killed. I believed it my job to protect her." Baltar looked at Evie and how Laura soothed her small daughter. He watched Six kneel down to examine the baby with curious eyes.
"I'm not heartless."
"Hera is the true sign of hope. She is the sign of things to come," Six said.
"Your daughter is beautiful," Baltar offered, suddenly favoring non sequiturs and talking over Six. He didn't fail to notice Laura hold her child just a little closer. He wisely made no move toward Laura or to touch the child, thinking of how Gina reacted when triggered by such things. Instead, Baltar dropped his head back on the bulkhead and just spoke as Laura caught her breath. "I believe Hera and Evelyn are our hope for the future. They'll grow up side by side on Galactica and no one will ever be able to tell which one is a half-Cylon. They're part of a divine design we are living out again. The shape of life as it was on the Colonies promised to continue in your gods' miracle child Evelyn—also the last child conceived on the Colonies by my math—and the shape of things to come in Hera who's God's miracle first hybrid, giving hope to the Cylons—also the first child conceived after the fall." Baltar shrugged. At Six's questioning look, he added, "I had time to think about their significance."
"More of your religious nonsense?"
"Says Pythia's promised leader."
"What is the link between her gods and the one true God?" Six asked, and for a moment, Baltar contemplated asking her why his imaginary angel girl didn't know everything. He could only deal with so many angsty women at once though, and focused on Roslin.
"You really think God uses even the flawed?" Laura would never openly admit how broken she felt. She was already upset enough that her PTSD had flared up in front of Baltar.
Baltar nodded. "You know what else I think? An idea we could consider?"
"Handing you over to Cain?"
"I'll be your vice president."
"You're insane."
"Part of having two timelines crammed in our head. It's not easy living with the memories. But me having memories of the previous timeline does present what I should think would be an obvious advantage for you." Baltar shrugged. Then he laughed, dropping his head back against the wall. "What a conversation. And here I once thought sneaking off to the rebel baseship and both of us yelling at the Hybrid was as bizarre as things could get."
Laura felt the twitch of a smile as she relaxed. "What about when we were all in your lab at the beginning? All of us were yelling at each other and trying to figure out if Ellen Tigh was a Cylon. I thought that seemed weird at the time."
"If we're going to reminisce about the special strange times we shared, I dare you to mention all the times people walked in on you and I playing," Six said.
"How about getting snogged in an airlock from the Admiral during a mutiny? I got to see the look on everyone's faces. There were some good times in that timeline."
"The man who had a nymphomaniacal groupie squad that my own traitorous aide joined would remember the good times."
"I saw you high on New Caprica."
That night, Laura thought and couldn't help but smile. There were good times. She looked at Baltar, assessing him. "On Kobol, we learned this is the last cycle. Our last chance to get it right," she said giving him a summary of the information they'd gathered there.
"Then I'd like to help. I learned that I do want to be useful. Really. And I think my job is to help guide the Fleet as it is yours to lead it."
"You are the one meant to guide this Fleet, Gaius!" Six screeched in his ear, kneeling down next to him. Baltar ignored her but grinned at her irritated huffing. It was nice to leave her flustered or once.
Baltar continued. "All of us are worried about changing as much of the future as we can. Think of how much we change if we are on the same side."
…
Billy Keikeya squirmed like a worm caught on a hook and Bill watched the boy look down at the leather couch as if wondering why it lacked the decency to swallow him whole. The Admiral did not relax his inquiring stare.
"So, you already have a plan to steal the election?" Bill asked. The president's Chief of Staff and personal aide refused to look up and meet his gaze. Instead, he shifted his position again.
Billy had arrived hoping to speak to his boss, having come aboard Galactica to spend an evening with Dualla. With Laura out walking gods only know where on his ship, Bill had allowed her assistant to wait for her on the couch. Seizing the opportunity, he'd delicately asked if Billy might know a way to rig the election. The question tasted sour and unpleasant, but then he thought of Laura, Kara, and Saul; they were his family and you do whatever you have to do for family. Sometimes you break the rules.
Surprised at the question, Billy blunderingly revealed that plotting might already be happening, and now Bill demanded clarification. But Billy opened and closed his mouth, intimidated by the admiral and hoping he hadn't caused the next fleet incident. No sound came out.
Bill sighed and repeated the question. "Do you already have a plan to steal the election?"
"The president just wondered if there was a way, you see, not that we were planning…" Billy continued to fumble with an explanation.
Bill pinched the bridge of his nose as he listened to Billy's attempts at backpaddling. He kept the scowl off his face as his thoughts churned, and he wondered what Laura had told Billy. Did they think he would repeat history and stop Laura from stealing the election if it came to that? Did she believe he valued his conscience more than he loved her? Hadn't she heard his promises?
"Son," Bill interrupted, cutting him off. "I'd advise you to answer my questions as fast and straight as possible."
"Yes, sir. We don't have a plan, sir."
"But you're searching for one?"
"Um, maybe."
"Straight and fast."
"Yes!" Billy admitted. He gulped nervously and shifted uncomfortably on the couch. "It's just— I don't know anything about stealing elections!"
After staring at Billy for a moment, the admiral chuckled. "Have you ever even successfully told a lie, Billy?" he asked. The boy blushed and Bill shook his head, unsurprised to find that sweet and kind-hearted Billy knew nothing about operating in an underhanded way. Gifted and capable, he was an excellent and efficient assistant to Laura, but for a brief moment Bill wondered how Billy Keikeya would have fared in the post-New Caprica fleet. Disturbed at that thought, Bill returned to the present. "So, you're here to update the president?"
"Yes, sir. Dee had an idea, but we talked it over and it wouldn't work."
Bill bristled and wondered who else was included in these potential political shenanigans, and why he wasn't one of them. He wasn't used to being out of the loop with his wife's plans and disliked the feeling. Before he could reply to Billy, the comm rang, so he marched over and pulled the phone off its receiver.
"Adama." He heard the click of a secure line activating, but the voice of his best friend Saul greeted him with no urgency. Instead he was prompted into tense but friendly banter. Bill felt a grin tug at his scowl when Saul asked if he could flip a few tables, get demoted, and come back home to Galactica. After a few moments, Saul surprised him when he asked to speak to the president. Suspicion rose in Bill.
"You'll have to get in line. Billy's here to talk with her too and I'm not sure when she'll be back."
"I'll talk to Billy then," Saul said. Bill prided himself on being a quick thinker with sharp reflexes. It kept him alive in the cockpit and still standing in CIC. The secure line, Billy's plots, and Saul's actions in the previous timeline were pieces of a puzzle Bill fit together. He really was out of the loop.
"Did no one think to include me?" he growled and thrust the comm out to Billy. It took Billy a moment to realize what was expected for him, and a few extra moments for him to rise and take the phone after having tripped over his feet in his scrambling. Billy eyed the irritated old man who moved away to pace his quarters. Bill's worry for Laura and the Fleet stretched his patience thin. Laura and her secrets, Bill thought. We agreed there would be none.
While pacing, the Admiral unapologetically listened as Billy spoke to Saul over the comm. When Billy's face fell, he knew it wasn't good news. He hoped Tory was experiencing the same trouble securing a backup plan for her team's victory, an avenue she'd doubtlessly pursued.
While listening, he thought back to Cottle's earlier visit during his shift break from CIC. The doctor had assembled a packet of information on PTSD for Bill so he could help Laura recover. Cottle warned him that the process would be long and frustrating, and Bill listened as the doctor told him in no uncertain terms that he expected the Admiral to take exceptional care of his president. Bill had immediately pored through some of the information, equipping himself to help his wife. Having lived through a war and seen friends suffer, he already understood how she lived in a state of almost constant physical and emotional stress she couldn't control. She felt vulnerable and unsafe and he'd do anything to see her security restored. Reassurance, patience, and a whole lot of understanding, he reminded himself.
When the scrapping sound of metal echoed in through the room, two sets of eager eyes turned toward the hatch. The door opened and revealed a rough-looking Liam, who staggered through the door and collapsed at the table, letting his head thump down onto the hard surface.
"Liam?" Bill asked, shifting his full focus to his son. Billy also glanced over at Liam in concern, the boys having formed a friendship of sorts during their time on Colonial One when Liam wasn't in school.
"You know how much fun it is being the President and Admiral's Son?" came Liam's muffled response as he kept his forehead pressed to the table. "I once thought President Adar's campaign for reelection was crazy."
"Adar himself was crazy," Bill huffed. They both heard a snort of restrained laughter from where Billy stood using the comm.
"Remember when you came home and took me out for ice cream after I spilled juice on him during a campaign tour that he dragged Mom along on? Things were better then."
"So what happened?"
"That crazy reporter, Karen, practically chased me through the halls trying to get me to answer her stupid questions. 'Does your mother actually believe the scriptures? Will your father continue to support the government if the election goes the wrong way? Do you support your mother's training program for high stress and vital positions? What do you think of the story in The Fleet Times portraying your father as a military dictator? What do you think of the Colonial Gang's story on President Roslin's first term?' And the questions got stupider! 'Is it strange having a sister who's so young? Do you remember your mother being kidnapped? Why is space cold? Why are Cylons mean? Are vipers hard to fly? Are you single?'" Liam finally took a breath from his rant and picked up his head. Seeing his teenage son red-faced from hightailing it away from their least favorite reporter, Bill made a note to grill whichever guards allowed a wayward reporter to roam Galactica. Before Bill could respond, Liam noted Billy in the room. "Did crazy Karen chase Billy here too?"
No, Billy mouthed and rolled his eyes at Liam while listening to Saul on the comm.
"Date with Dee then?" Liam teased and Billy blushed. "When are you gonna ask her to—"
"Let Billy talk on the phone," Bill said as the hatch opened again and Laura stepped though. Bill watched his wife ease out of her heels and line them up neatly by the door—a good sign. Clearly calmer than when she left, Laura looked around the room and gave them a lopsided grin.
"Secret meeting of the William Society?" she asked.
"That's the real reason Billy's here," Bill said, glancing over at his son who rolled his eyes and grinned. "For secret meetings," Bill turned and gave his wife a pointed look, "and election plotting."
He watched Laura's face fall as she realized her husband must now be aware of her machinations. Help her feel safe again, Cottle had ordered him and Bill moved over to her. She watched him warily, but he simply kissed her on the cheek in greeting and lingered to whisper in her ear.
"I made you a promise. Nothing is more important than that," he said and watched the coiling tension leave her tensed shoulders. Bill smiled and lifted Evie from her mother. He told her to go talk to Billy, warning her that he lacked good news.
"Speaking of bad news: Wait until I tell you who I've picked for vice president."
…
Laura sat at her desk and surveyed the chaos onboard Colonial One. It was a battleground. At the overwhelming buzz of activity and anticipation, she needed to tap into her reservoir of inner strength to see her through the next few hours.
It was Election Day. Laura compared it to judgment day. Her worthiness now stood on the judgment of the Fleet. She hoped they had seen how desperately she'd worked for their survival over the past few months—they would never see the lessons learned from the previous timeline and how she tried to use those memories for the good of her people.
Workers, aides, and personnel flurried about the office, and Laura hated how crowded her space became. Alongside the usual staff, almost her entire cabinet was present along with a few members of the Quorum and Council of Ship's Captains. Her nerves fired and tingled at the constant movement and barrage of sensations, but she remained outwardly calm and dignified with her head held high and hair swept back into a classic, controlled chignon that wouldn't betray her frazzled state. It helped that Laura's family created an inner circle around her. Her husband in particular never seemed more than a whisper or arm's reach away. He leaned against the front of her desk like her own personal praetorian guard.
Despite how on edge she felt, Laura appreciated everyone's presence. She gazed at her people; they were so remarkably ordinary and so resourceful. Most of them congregated on the opposite side of the office where a large whiteboard with a rough hand-drawn grid listed the ships and candidates, her team prepared and eager to record votes. Laura's gaze flicked over them one by one with pride.
They'd formed a government from the ashes.
She even had a Secretary of Agriculture: an old blind woman from Aerilon who'd spent her life farming. She recently helped convert extra spaces on ships into hydroponic bays to grow food and she monitored crops on ships able to produce them. Near them stood a short, freckled Canceron man who'd worked as a secretary for some unheard-of company and was now the Secretary of Labor. He gathered skill information from almost everyone in the Fleet and helped the President's office put people to work where needed and rotated them when necessary. Looking at him, Laura smiled and thought of how the Galen Tyrol from the other timeline would be pleased with the policies they'd created and how it tarnished popularity among the surviving elite of society. Some things are worth a hit in the polls, Laura thought, looking at a cantankerous trucker from Aquarius who now supervised supply delivery throughout the Fleet. No one touched or stood in the way of his supply chain and so the youngest children, the oldest survivors, the military, the socialactors, the prisoners, and the denizens of Colonial One all received a fair share.
Wally helped create this.
Laura looked down at the speeches on her desk and listened to talkwireless as McManus delivered the election results broadcasted live from Pegasus. The Quorum had decided that counting ballots would be done on Cain's Battlestar; its late arrival theoretically provided decently neutral ground. A combination of marines and fleet security would provide guards and oversight, and it created a secure enough operation that Billy hadn't found a way to penetrate it. Part of Laura was relieved; a corner of her heart still stayed soft and innocent where a small voice whispered that it was better to win or lose honestly.
Together Colonial One waited. Time ticked by until talkwireless crackled with an update. Hot excitement raced through everyone when McManus announced that they were minutes away from the results of the first ballot box. Anxious, bubbling chatter filled Colonial One alongside Elosha's chant-like prayers. Casting furtive glances at their parents, Lee, Kara, Zak, and Liam murmured to each other and Evelyn whimpered in protest at their diverted attention. Potential Vice President Gaius Baltar, who'd been invited onto Colonial One, tensed and fidgeted.
As the Fleet's judgement drew nearer, Colonial One's air became stifling. Laura could only prop herself up at her desk with her hands folded in front of her in prayer, in poise, and in stress. Her insides squirmed a million times worse than any previous election. It was worse than jittery butterflies in the stomach or her old bouts of intense morning sickness. I still have work to do, she thought. With her whole being, she believed her place was at her husband's side leading the Fleet to a new home. Her eyes moved from the acceptance and concession speeches on her desk to the reserved presence of her husband.
He neither moved nor spoke. He just watched and waited with the tightly controlled energy of a bird-of-prey ready to swoop in if needed. Her gaze settled on him, and she looked at her husband with open affection and gratefulness. Throughout both the ordeal of the election and her struggle with PTSD, Bill had been nothing but patient. He'd loved her every step of the way and offered what support he could.
Laura recalled their latest row. He'd been less than thrilled at her unpredicted choice for vice president and challenged her. With the PTSD, she appreciated that he didn't coddle her. She marveled at how he never complained about her less-controlled feelings. He was unflappable. He'd actually noticed the guilt she'd started accumulating, believing herself to be straining his patience, but kindly reminded her that seventeen years ago he'd also been in a similar state from her death and subsequent restoration to him. Back then she'd soothed every nightmare and picked up every midnight phone call from him.
He finally moved, turning to the window and its view of the planet below. Laura realized that he was struggling with his own lingering guilt. "If I hadn't talked you out of stealing the election you'd have been spared New Caprica," he'd grumbled. "And I was the one who lied about Earth first. I didn't send a recon Raptor before jumping us to a nuclear wasteland and declaring to the entire Fleet we'd been saved. Then, instead of helping you, I just kept trying to drink myself into oblivion." His old shame-filled arguments clouded her mind as she studied her husband, wondering how to reach the fellow bruised soul. Something clicked in her mind as she thought of how to comfort him. She reached out and brushed the tips of her fingers along the rough wool of his uniform sleeve. He turned.
"Guess what I'm thinking about right now."
"The election?"
A little puff of laughter escaped, and it was enough to to melt some of his mounting tension. She looked up at him, blocking out the election for a moment. "Mountains. A stream running into a little lake. Water so clear it's like looking through glass."
"The cabin you never got to build," Bill said. Hearing the bitterness, she reached for his hand. She wound their fingers together and Laura unintentionally soothed her old wounds by helping her husband. Her eyes flickered to their point of contact like it was an anchor in a storm.
"I know I've been going through a hard time. Sometimes being here only reminds me of Cylons, loss, unbuilt cabins, and broken dreams. That planet makes it easy to only remember only the bad. But I recently… reminisced about some good times we had. Remember how silly we acted that night?" The corner of Bill's eyes crinkled, laugh lines appearing and softening his grave face. How could he not remember? They'd shared so much in those long hours under the stars, and Laura's heart lightened at pulling out those memories even if they sometimes felt heavy. She squeezed his fingers, letting herself continue: He needed to know. "On that planet I learned that I could love again and even dream of a future. I needed that. So now I'm thinking of the cabin I did build… because I built it in you."
"Laura…" he whispered, and although his expression remained unchanged the deep cadence of his voice carried a wave of feeling at her words.
Drowning out what he might have said, an irritated peal of sound erupted from the people of Colonial One listening to talkwireless. Billy, looking downtrodden, marked the first numbers on their whiteboard. To the side Kara sweared loudly. Baltar flinched and whispered to himself. The tally overwhelmingly favored their current vice president and political opponent Wallace Grey. Laura watched Billy mark the final number. In her mind Galactica flashed out of the sky overhead and she heard the metallic clanking of Cylons plodding down the street.
"Come back," Bill said quietly, having circled around the desk to her side. His hand gripped her shoulder with a stray thumb touching the base of her neck, the rough pad rubbing a subtle circle while his touch pulled her into the present. Talkwireless still churned out additional commentary courtesy of James McManus while Laura's staff gazed at their leader. She remained the embodiment of dignified calm despite the first tally and the brief flash of memory.
Laura inclined her head toward her husband and spoke in hushed tones. "I have a family and a home and nothing today can change that. You'll still be here at the end of the day, right?"
"All the way to the end."
"Thank you." She let out a breath at his promise. "Thank you for everything." Cottle was right, their bond was their greatest source of support, resilience and recovery. She gave him a soft smile, one of those that were his alone. Strong, loving, and vulnerable, and tinged with traces of sadness and desire; a unique combination that spoke to their lives together. His great gift to her was making her feel safe in body, heart, soul; her great gift to him was making him feel accepted.
Meanwhile the reporter continued, words pouring fast out of his mouth like a surging waterfall. He quoted facts, polls, history, and then informed the enthralled audience that escort ship Kerem's votes were counted. He drew out the crowd's anticipation, electrifying the atmosphere on Colonial One even further. The air swirled with thick currents, until it felt like they could all drown on recycled air and the dregs of dwindling cologne.
Wally scooped up most of Kerem's votes as well. Laura tensed, keeping her body from slumping back against the leather of her chair, but her brow furrowed. She commanded significant love and loyalty throughout the military ships. Billy's marker squeaked in protest as it marked down the newest numbers.
"All this has happened before," Laura whispered, closing her eyes and willing herself to endure a humiliating Election Day. Kara marched over like an errant wildfire that burned with indignant fury.
"Are we going to sit here and watch people's stupidity win again?"
"It's not over, Kara," Bill said, and his tone contained a clear, sharp underlying warning for her to back down.
"What are you going to do?" Kara asked, ignoring the warning and looking at them both.
Laura grimaced, the weight of the election and potentially losing it pushing down on her shoulders. People in the office were noticing the irritated Viper pilot and they threw interested looks toward the president's desk during a lull in the broadcast. Laura looked up at Kara just as the comm rang, and she trusted an aide to get it.
"We do our best," Laura said. What more could she do? "And we fight until we can't." She met Kara's blazing gaze with a calm serenity. I've always tried to do my best. Laura understood the hurt in Kara that prompted her demand.
An eavesdropping reporter scribbled down the quote and Laura felt the beginning of a headache. She got some needed levity when, out of her peripheral vision, she watched Liam intercept the creeping reporter. He stood between the man and his mother, and proceeded to annoy him with every question he could think of until he backed away. Liam enjoyed his self-appointed job, especially after the Karen episode.
In hushed tones again, Kara continued. "Don't forget, Leoben remembers. So might Six. They could lead the other Cylons here."
"But he also betrayed his fellow Cylons to help us. Do you really think he'd bring us harm? If the Cylons show up we'll evacuate and jump away," Laura said. There were groups of humans now allowed on the surface, but only after an evacuation plan had been created. They could have the people off the surface and their ships jumping out of orbit in mere minutes.
"What if the frakwit tries to settle us?"
"I won't let Wally. I'll regale him with every horrible story of our lives down there until he can't stomach the thought," Laura promised vehemently as Billy approached the desk. Her aide's eyebrows shot up and a shiver went down his spine at her words.
"If he wins," Billy added. He looked at Adama. "Call for you, sir."
"Thank you, Billy," Bill said. He glanced over at Lee, silently ordering his son over. Lee stepped over to take his father's sentry place, handing Evelyn to Kara; the steely-eyed, hard-ass viper jock melted when she held the baby. Giving his wife's shoulder a comforting squeeze before letting go, he went to take the call in the private chamber behind Laura's office. It was where she'd once lived and it now served as Billy's office and living space—an upgrade from the previous timeline he (and Dee) rather enjoyed.
McManus announced the next count, and Laura fell further behind. Only 216 more ships to endure, Laura thought as she looked at the survivor count on her wall. She studied the numbers as the reporter belabored on about her current unfavorable election standings.
"...as we've reported, polls showed it would be a tough fight for the presidency. Wallace Grey has proven to be a reliable alternative to a former schoolteacher, having maintained order during Dagon and Zarek's rebellion. Still, many in the Fleet cling to the belief that President Laura Roslin is one of the foretold leaders of Pythia's prophecy, the other conveniently being her husband, Admiral William Adama," McManus droned. Laura wondered how the journalist who most vocally opposed her got to cover the election. It was just her luck. No, it was probably Tory's devious machinations. "...many in the military naturally see the advantage of the president literally sharing a bed with the head of the armed forces. Therefore, it is a shocking turn of events that the majority of the votes on the first military ship counted went to Wallace Grey. Maybe we can call the election early and find more enjoyable ways to spend our nights?" The reporter laughed at his own joke.
Laura, still staring at the survivor count, felt the eyes of her staff on her. She supposed there was a morbid curiosity that came from watching a sinking ship. Still, they didn't need to be worrying about her reaction to each vote count, and she didn't need to feel like she was a specimen under a microscope. So, she turned and addressed her staff with kindness in her eyes.
"I want to thank you all for your hard work and dedication," she began in a warm voice before she continued speaking heartfelt words to her staff. When she was done, she looked at Billy with a smile. Her Chief of Staff had done well in his efforts to help, but like her, he focused most of his attention on the Fleet and not campaigning. His youth also gave him little experience in helping organize a bid for reelection, but Laura preferred him over the finest campaign managers she'd known in her time. She was infinitely grateful fate returned him to her. "Billy, be a dear and make sure that McManus gets his math right. This isn't over yet."
Her staff cheered, encouraged at the fighting words. Meanwhile, Laura stepped away from her desk to slip away to the room behind her office. There, Bill was still on the phone and he wore a frown on his face.
"Are you absolutely certain?" he asked gruffly, and Laura couldn't hear the response from whomever he spoke to on the line. She stepped further into the room, pacing a bit as she tried to calm her nerves in private.
"No more mistakes, is that understood?" Laura shivered at the command in his voice. No one dared cross him when he used that tone—well, except for her. And Starbuck if she was feeling cheeky. Lee enjoyed defying his father when it would irritate the old man. Laura snorted at a sudden giggle. Even Liam and Zak had their defiant, petulant moments against the man whom Cylons feared. Laura felt more giggles bubbling up in her chest.
"I expect accuracy!" With that, Bill hung up the phone.
"What was that?" she asked.
"A military decision," he responded gruffly. Laura's face cracked into a wide grin as more laughter escaped. Her giggles created ripples of mirth where there had been none. Soon she laughed in bursts and fits as a chaotic energy wrapped around her. She had to steady herself against the bulkhead while her husband's footsteps stepped up behind her.
"Something funny?"
"Nope. Not really. Not at all actually. Things are pretty status quo: messed up and fairly desperate." She pressed a hand to her mouth as she stifled her giggles. But her feelings built up inside her and like water behind a dam, making her shoulders shake and her belly hurt as more laughter erupted from her. She fought to breathe as she turned to face her confused husband. Seeing his bemused and concerned eyes, she had to brace herself against his chest as more laughter nearly doubled her over. "You're just cute when you're stern."
"What?" He stiffened. He was the stoic, hardened commanding officer of humanity's remaining fleet. He sighed in resignation. "There was a time you didn't like that," he offered, indulging his wife because she was finally laughing again. Laura let her head fall against his chest, softening the progressively less dignified giggles.
"There was a time you didn't like me."
"Then you surprised me," Bill said. "Surprises can happen." Laura listened to his voice, finding warmth and hope in its rough cadence. She leaned against him more heavily; for all the fire in her soul, there were equal amounts of weariness and longing, an ache for rest and peace.
"I'm tired."
"Me too."
"I never expected Wally to run against me. Maybe it's time's way of fighting back against whatever changes we tried to make."
"Don't think like that."
"Well, the fact is, I know when I've been beaten. I haven't played all my cards well during this election. I've been so focused on survival, creating a better future, and Evelyn that I didn't spend much time preparing for the election." Bill guided her over to a couch in the room where he sank down into the leather and pulled Laura down next to him.
"I knew there was something strange about you; I haven't met too many politicians who truly care about their people."
"You're such a cynic."
"Who's cute." Laura laughed again and again until streams of tears were running down her cheeks. Bill could no longer tell if she was truly laughing or crying as she hiccuped. At least it distracted her from the election. Her head fell against his shoulder and her breathing slowly evened out and Bill realized she'd fallen asleep. Bill suppressed his own chuckle, not wanting to disturb her; she was the only person he knew who could laugh themself to sleep. "You're a strange woman, Laura Roslin," he murmured as he relaxed against the couch and listened to sounds from the other room.
…
"Madame President… Madame President…" Someone was trying to drag her from her warm darkness. A heavy arm was draped around her shoulder holding her secure and a heartbeat drummed under her ear. "Madame President!" Someone shook her and the darkness shattered as reality slammed into Laura. She jerked awake, dulled panic dancing at the edge of her mind; moving her when she slept could set her anxiety off, but it was soon apparent she was safe. Her sudden movement woke Bill beside her as well.
"Billy? What's wrong?" Laura asked as she blinked awake and looked up at her frantic assistant.
"You need to come hear this."
"I'll be right there."
"No, you really need to come now," Billy said urgently, his eyes wide and fervent. He extended a hand and pulled the president to her feet. Laura felt dizzy for a moment as blood rushed to her head, but she was pulled along into the main office. Bill followed only a footfall behind them, military training waking him up more easily.
"What's going on?" Laura asked as she looked out at the office. Had she gotten the majority of votes on a ship? Billy motioned for someone to turn up the talkwireless volume.
"...offer to continue to work with President Laura Roslin and Vice President Elect Dr. Gaius Baltar. Our campaign worked hard and I feel nothing but pride for the wonderful people I've met and worked alongside. Defeat is painful, but I accept the results and will of the people. Laura Roslin will continue to lead us and I believe she wants what's best for the people. Many have commented on her sincerity and her willingness to sacrifice for the greater good. We wouldn't have a Fleet without her. If I had to lose, at least it was to her. I encourage my voters to support the administration and remain unified in our struggle for survival. Our responsibility is to help build a better future and let our voices be heard. May the Lords of Kobol bless and keep you all," Wally said as he conceded the election to her. Before McManus could get on air and ruin the moment, Billy cut the transmission. Laura, shocked to the core, looked up at his whiteboard.
"My gods," she breathed. She'd won in a landslide. In a moment made out of the same stuff from which dreams are woven, Billy stepped forward, alive and well, and extended his hand to Laura.
"Congratulations on winning the election, Madame President," he said, grinning with cheeks flushed red in excitement and adrenaline. For Laura, it took a second or two for the new information to really sink in, even though the numbers were right before her eyes on the board. Her lips slowly stretched into a wide grin. She did it. They did it. In the seconds following that revelation, she felt paralized. Excited and confused, she tried to understand what happened. Laura felt Billy squeezing her hand and shaking it. Her heart beat wildly with purpose—she still had purpose: protect and preserve humanity. Her people believed in her.
"Thank you, Billy," she managed. "Thank you all!" Colonial One erupted into crazed jubilation at a race well-fought and won. Handshakes, backslapping, and cheers filled the space. Relief and disbelief warred in Laura. Bill, in a rare moment of public affection, congratulated her next, embracing her openly.
"You did it!" he said so only she could hear. She was still processing, remembering how certain she'd been of defeat.
"Did I? You didn't do something? That phone call earlier?"
"No one stole the election."
"Bill…"
"Tory might have tried to rig some votes for Wally, but no one pulls that kind of bullshit on Cain's ship. That's why the early numbers were so far in his favor. It got shut down quickly." Bill said and released his hold to pull back and look her in the eyes. "You were fairly elected."
"Damn frakkin' right!" Kara said, bounding over with the rest of the family to congratulate Laura. Amid the stream of hugs, Laura felt deeply touched and loved by the enthusiastic support of the relieved members of the Adama family.
Dr. Baltar hesitantly approached her desk and extended a hand. Laura looked down at his hand, seeing how it trembled a bit in nervousness. She reached out and they clasped each other's hands in a firm shake, silently agreeing to collaboration. Gaius gave her a smile and spoke, "Congratulations, Madame President."
"I look forward to working with you to create a better future," Laura said.
"I think… all is as it should be."
…
Days of playing pyramid long over, Sam Anders and his team waited in the bushes, rifles at the ready. An unusually bright sun warming the nuked soil around them. The dirt and mud of fallen Caprica marred their faces, allowing the group to disappear into the shadows as they waited: a tip they used from an old military movie Sue-Shaun remembered. None of them were professional soldiers, just a haphazard resistance doing their best with whatever they could scrounge up.
"Flash," came a woman's voice from over the dirt road.
"Thunder," Sam replied, slipping out from his hiding place to meet her. He motioned for his team to stay behind as he approached the attractive woman with curly blonde hair falling to her shoulders. She handed him an envelope and a large bag.
"Locations of farms, supply depots, and associate maps with access points. The bag also has radiation meds," she said. "You'll also find the location to our next rendezvous point."
"Thanks," Sam said as he slung the bag over his shoulders.
"Some of us wanted peace. This is the best we can do, for now."
…
Author's note: I took a bit of a hiatus. I'm back now and hopefully refreshed. Thank you for sticking with me. I always love getting reviews from my readers.