A distant and familiar sadness calls to us,

as if carried on the wind, like burning sand.

Brothers and sisters, away, you endure,

stranded on our own land.

From Bill's point of view, he'd stood in this exact same spot almost twenty years ago. A map of New Cap— Fallback Omega covered the backlit table of Galactica's war room with a mismatched array of ships spread over the surface.

A memory etched into soul and skin,

leaves a scar that never heals.

Our family is strong, but scattered

across the stars and fields.

Bill picked up a Raptor from the table and contemplated the small ship and what strategic move he could make with it. He allowed the complicated feelings swirling in him to ebb and flow as they willed, unable to suppress them fully. Regret. Hope. Turning the Raptor over in his hand, he thought of the poet Kataris and his lyrical words:

We will not abandon you.

We will not forget you.

We will return for you.

A little hand reached out, grabbing for the model Raptor, but the clumsy fingers only knocked it out of Bill's hand. It clattered across the table, over the spread of maps, and crashed onto the floor. Bill smiled and kissed the baby's cheek; his little Evie pulling him back into this timeline where he counted his blessings every day.

"Don't take daddy's ships," he told her. Evie looked up at him and gurgled softly. "Alright, princess, we'll send Racetrack and Skulls on the survey mission."

"Your kid's planning the ops now?" Saul asked as he glanced up from where he read over some papers. He looked tired and irritable, with a permanent-looking scowl etched on his brow.

"It's a smart move. How many times did Racetrack and Skulls stumble upon something important?"

"They stumbled across this damnable planet. Not exactly a point in their favor."

"Still, let's hope they stumble across the damnable orb that we can't seem to find," Bill said as he gently pushed Evie's curious hand away from his glasses. She scrunched up her face in annoyance at being denied the intriguing objects she wanted. Bill adjusted her, holding her in one arm as he studied the map table. The Battlestars were spread out to provide a thorough field of protection and surveillance around the planet. A CAP continuously patrolled the space within the nebula. Ships meant for atmospheric takeoff waited on the surface to evacuate the tightly controlled visitors there. If the Cylons decided to surprise them while they were using the planet to regroup, rest, and repair they'd have time to react. Meanwhile, select Raptors were being sent outside the protection of the nebula to conduct survey missions and Bill hoped one of them would find the orb of which the creature on Kobol spoke and Laura dreamed. They'd found nothing so far.

"You find any problems with the plan for fleet defense?"

"I know you think I'm being paranoid," Saul grumbled and he wiped a weary hand over his face as if trying to smooth the scowl and concerned wrinkles away. He stared between the papers and the table, trying to find the potential flaws and weak spots.

"Paranoia is the feeling you're being threatened even though there's no proof that's true."

"Read that somewhere in that book collection of yours?"

"It's not paranoia when there's really something out to get us."

"That's definitely a line. Probably from one of those antique leather books that you seem to like," Saul teased before he finally tossed the papers down and raised a questioning eyebrow at Evelyn. Bill handed her to Saul, shaking his head at his friend's gentle barbs. Saul held Evie up as she stretched and kicked her restless feet. "Yer old man thinks he's so clever 'cause he can remember some dusty ol' words."

"Seriously?"

"You'll still learn a thing or two from Uncle Saul though." Evie looked at Saul, now reaching for his face, seeking something to grab in her hands now that she could hold onto things. "Sorry, princess. No eyepatch anymore. Not until the Cylons get ahold of me and all this happens—"

"Saul."

"I'm allowed to be frakkin' morbid while we orbit that planet," Saul said, casting a disgusted look at the map of the planet on the table.

"You gonna be alright?" Bill asked as he studied his friend.

"Fleet's quiet and we're, admittedly, well prepared," Saul gestured to the plans he'd read over. "You and Laura made sure we'll all be outta here at a moment's notice if the Cylons even sneeze in our direction. Go down, enjoy the inauguration, and keep an eye on our president and the weasel."

"Laura says she needs to do this, to step onto the planet again. Cottle says the exposure might help her."

"I get it." The Fleet had begged for the swearing in and celebrations to happen down on the planet and in the sunshine and, after thinking it over, Laura agreed. Saul had made his own position abundantly clear: he would never step onto the planet again. The rest of Saul's words were rendered unintelligible when Evie managed to grab onto his nose. Bill chuckled at the sight and abandoned his work with the map table, knowing he'd already ensured the fleet's safety. He just needed to review it again, partly for Saul's benefit.

Laura waited in the doorway watching Evie as she poked Saul in the eye. Saul jokingly asked if the girl planned on turning him into a cyclops again. Despite Lauras's anxiety at going down to the planet, she found herself smiling at the sight of the two grown military men who commanded Battlestars now reduced to playthings for a child. Laura giggled when Saul finally had enough after Evie started blowing bubbles at him and promptly handed her back to Bill. The laughter caught her husband's attention and he turned to face her.

Laura stepped onto the hangar deck of Galactica after Colonial One had safely docked. The crowd had long since dispersed. In fact, everyone now slept as they crashed from their burning adrenaline high after the rescue mission from New Caprica.

CIC had notified the Admiral that Ms. Roslin was coming aboard and Bill had hastened to greet her personally. Months had passed since he'd seen her and the exhausted woman he'd found was no longer his lady in red. She wore a ragged sweater that had once been white and her hair fell around her face in tangles. He wanted to take her in his arms and never let her go. He wanted to kiss her until she appeared less haunted. There was a lot he should have done.

They simply shook hands.

"Madame President."

"Madame President," Bill said, looking at his wife in the doorway.

"Our rightfully and fairly elected president!" Saul greeted, and Laura noticed the brief flash of remembrance cross Bill's face. She knew he experienced the same flashes of pain that memories of the other timeline brought even though there were plenty of happy times on which to dwell. She pushed away from the doorway, smoothing down the crisp white suit she'd found for her inauguration, and made her way to his side. They were talking through the pain and focusing on the good times more now.

"Admiral, Commander," she greeted in a warm voice, smiling at her husband as she placed her hand over his where he held Evelyn steady. "Teaching my daughter the important things in life, I see," she teased, looking between the two men.

"She's already planning the ops," Saul said.

"Cylons will never see that coming," Laura laughed. They might be forcing their lighthearted banter, but the smiles were genuine. Laura rolled her eyes and managed to force her giggles to remain contained. Giggles before a debate were hard enough to contain, so who could guess how bad they'd be before her own inauguration. Taking a deep, steadying breath as she tried to hold onto the lightheartedness, she looked at Bill. "It's time to go down."

...

Down on the planet, a crew had assembled the same stage they'd used for the decommissioning ceremony; the surviving humans reused everything possible until the limits of functionality were reached. The crowds found enough supplies to create a festive air, jumping at the chance to throw a party and let their hair down. But first, the dignified proceedings of the remnants of Colonial society needed to be observed. To that end, Laura stood up on the stage to be sworn in as the elected president for what she hoped would be her first four-year term. As she and Bill had flown down to the planet, Laura joked that she hoped to at least survive this term. Bill wasn't amused.

Elosha smiled as she led Laura through the oath of office, pleased that her priestly duties included swearing in Pythia's foretold leader to the presidency.

"Congratulations, Madame President," Elosha said as Laura finished the oath of office and then shook Elosha's outstretched hand. The president thanked her friend and confidant before she stepped up to the podium to address the people.

From where Bill sat in the first row on the right, he could see a flicker of nervousness cross Laura's face as she leaned forward to speak. He knew the source wasn't any sudden fear of public speaking or intimidation at the crowds, but a desire not to let her people down. Her opening statements were polite, perfunctory, and political enough to satisfy the people, but Bill noted that the overly prepared words weren't allowing her caring warmth to shine through.

Their eyes met: William Adama with his stoic, indomitable spirit and Laura Roslin with her tireless faith and vision. They shared broken and healed hearts, and the fight to do what needed to be done. Laura smiled and took a deep breath.

"Maybe I'll just talk to you all," Laura said, ignoring the remainder of her prepared speech as she had during the debate. If people noted her sincerity during the debate and election, then she'd just speak during her inauguration. "I know that sometimes, it seems like a million years ago when our elected presidents would be sworn in on the once gleaming steps of our capitol on Caprica. They'd have profound words and even bigger dreams, but our dream is survival. Our time has been spent running and protecting what's left. It's been hard.

"I don't have their profound words, but I can share what I've seen. I've seen us lose our gleaming cities, but we still hold on to our legacy—the legacy of human endurance. Our people, our culture, survives in us. I've seen us overcome the impossible, and I know we will keep fighting and stay determined until we find peace again.

"Our arrival at a new home is what we are destined for, and until we find it, we gain resilience and community every step of the way.

"Rely on each other. Trust each other and work together. As long as we keep our belief in each other, we will get through this, all of us, together. Never let that go. I'm proud to serve as the president of such a group of people. Thank you."

Sensing Laura was done, Bill clapped first and the sound quickly drowned in the swelling applease from the crowd. Laura smiled, trying to discreetly wipe moisture from the corner of her eye, and nodded her thanks at the crowd.

Once the other speeches concluded and Baltar was sworn in as vice president (while Bill glowered threateningly at him in warning), the people enjoyed the planned festivities. The Quorum, claiming their constituents needed an occasion of joviality, had arranged many of the day's details themselves. Laura allowed it. Increasing morale wasn't inconsequential. Hope must be kept alive.

Laura saw shadows of memory everywhere, but she kept a brave face on. Gone was the sprawling tent city they'd once known, and instead only a few temporary dwellings were set up for overnight guests with communal areas for surface visitors. For the inauguration, some areas were set up for food, music, and gathering. It seemed more like a festival than a state affair, but Laura liked it. She mingled with her people, played the game of politics, and tried to put old ghosts to rest.

Melodies drifted over the grassy fields where people mingled, drank, and danced. Not far off, Kara and Lee were holding court with the other pilots as they all boozed and smoked themselves silly. The people rather enjoyed the open bar for which Ellen was responsible; it was her condition for taking over some of Tory's responsibilities. While Laura allowed Tory to return to her staff (keep your enemies close and your known Cylons even closer), the traitor had a short leash. Ellen had jumped at the chance to take over as press secretary, and Laura found a certain elegance in selecting a camera-loving, charismatic, and manipulative lady to deal with the press who also came with the added benefit of being loyal to her (because she was loyal to Saul, who was loyal to Bill).

"C'mon, Laura. I want to do something," Bill said when the piranhas circling them gave her some room to breathe. Before the next Quorum delegate could reach them, and with Evie on one arm, he grabbed her hand and pulled her along. People seemed less likely to take Evie from her intimidating Admiral, and Laura had already endured one almost panic attack while holding Evie when someone reached for her renowned daughter without asking. Dodging the crowds, they reached their destination.

Sitting down on the ground, Bill tugged Laura down beside him. When she realized where they were, laughter bubbled out of her while Bill tugged the socks off their little daughter. Keeping her supported, Bill sat Evie in the sand and let her kick her feet as she happily discovered a new texture under her toes.

"Admiral Adama playing in the alluvial deposits with his daughter."

"It's a good sight," Bill said.

"This is real?"

Instead of answering, Bill took one of Laura's hands and gently pushed it into the sand. The sun-warmed grains tickled her fingers as she grabbed a handful. It felt real. It felt impossible. She remembered being overjoyed at seeing Bill again after months apart and their easy reconnection as they sat side by side in the sand, but that could hardly compare to this. Hand buried in the sand, she traced along her wedding band, playing with the rough grains against the metal. Real.

Bill kept an observant eye on the happy baby and his wife, but let them have their space. Before they left Galactica, Cottle had barked out orders to keep an eye on both his girls in case the planet and crowds became too much for either. While the beautiful chaos of the day enlivened their people, it was a lot for Laura. Down in the alluvial deposits, he watched some of her mounting tension melt off her shoulders as they snatched a respite from her constituents. They both seeped into the moment, allowing the overhead sun to warm them while enjoying fresh air and facing their memories.

Looking back at Laura and he noted a forlorn look replacing her smile. He gave her a concerned look. Are you ok?

I'm trying to remember the good times. They'd developed quite the ability to communicate without words. There were good times, but... Laura glanced over to where her school once stood. She remembered how she'd been hauled out of class in front of her students and sent toward what would have been her execution. The younger children had cried. She looked away and noted that Wally had lived over that little hill in front of them in a sad, small tent. He'd died there of pneumonia before the Cylons even arrived. They'd never reconciled.

Elosha had died. Billy had died. Maya had died. Tom had betrayed her. Tory had abandoned her. Lee had forsaken her. It seemed no wonder why she so deeply feared losing Bill.

"Laura," Bill said, his voice breaking through the memory fog he sensed rolling in on Laura. He grabbed her hand in the sand. Nodding toward two people on a blanket not far away, he sent her a silent message: See what we've accomplished. Yes, we've made mistakes and people have died. Sometimes we made promises that we just couldn't keep. But more often than not, we beat the odds. They're okay. We're okay.

Laura followed his gaze and her eyes widened.

There was Billy Keikeya sitting at a table across from Dualla. He was wearing his usual striped shirt, but he'd loosened the tie under his collar. His cheeks were glowing, but he always blushed when looking at Dualla. They were holding hands over the table and the sunlight caught the sparkle of the ring on Dualla's finger. She gasped in delight at her pseudo-son finding happiness. She suspected they'd be a good match; Dee deserved someone devoted to her and Billy only wanted to love her.

"Another one of the kids settled," Bill said.

"It is a good sight."

"Madame President?" a voice asked from behind them, grabbing their attention. They turned and found Zak and Maya standing together. Maya had become a friend to Laura once more after she'd accepted the job of helping with Evie. She now had a grin on her face and a sparkle in her eye as she handed a package to Laura. "I found that thing you asked if I might be able to track down. Would you like me to take Evelyn? I can watch her with Zak," she offered. Rising to their feet, the two parents exchanged a look. With Zak?

"Thank you, Maya," Laura said and Bill handed Evelyn to their trusted aide. The younger pair walked off.

"We might have another kid pairing off," Laura teased as she watched them go. Hearing no disbelieving huff, Laura turned and found her husband looking curiously at the package in her hands.

"What's that?"

"A surprise." She knew he couldn't stand surprises, but enjoyed toying with him anyway. He tried to turn the full force of the Adama glare on her, but she only quirked an eyebrow. Doesn't work on me anymore, dear.

"What kind of surprise?"

"Something to wear for dancing later," Laura evaded, laughing at the grumpy face Bill pulled next. Somehow, the Quorum also pulled off arranging a godforsaken inaugural ball, and they'd be expected to dance and act the part of public figures there. Bill would hate it, but she'd found a way to soften the experience. She watched him studying the package, until he reached out and tugged at a little piece of fabric that wasn't quite covered in the brown paper. His face lit up. Unbuttoning the pocket on his uniform jacket, he pulled out two thinly rolled substances.

"If you go put that red dress on right now, I'll let you have one," he growled in a low voice that promised her they'd be finding a secluded spot after the dancing—some secluded place with sandbags and a view of the stars. Laura knew exactly what he was telling her with that look: I'm going to frak you on New Caprica like I should have the first time.

"Yes, sir."

…

Author's note: lyrics are from Bear McCreary's opening music during 'Precipice.'

I hope ya'll enjoyed a less angsty chapter. Virtual chocolate chip cookies for all those who stick with the story (and drop a review).