Chapter 1:

"Frakking toasters." Galen Tyrol muttered under his breath, he put his arm around Cally and began to pull her out of the way and back to their tent. Cally stared blankly at the cylons for a moment, before allowing herself to be led, one hand resting lightly on her extending stomach. Her life had never been paradise. It was flashing before her eyes, playing with her sisters as a small child, getting into high school, working her frakking butt off to have the grades for dental school and having to enter the military to pay for dental school and getting stuck being a mechanic, like her father. Then she met the Chief, and felt something she had never felt before. It sounded so cliché, but before the Chief there was nothing. Not like that. She had accepted long ago he could never be hers, not only was it against regulations, but he was in love with Boomer, a toaster. The only kind of affection he ever shown her was brotherly at best, and she soaked it in. He was the highlight of her life. She spent her stupid nights aboard Galactica reading smutty novels and fantasizing about him.

"Chief?" Cally looked at her husband, who didn't seem to hear her. He had his mind concentrated elsewhere, as he often did, she could probably go into labour and he wouldn't notice. She had long grown used to his moods, if she managed to disturb him out of it, cursing used to have the desired affect, he would laugh, smile and kiss her forehead. It wasn't that he was not a good husband, he was. He sold the booze they had created to arrange for milk products, and real meat to end up in their possession, and he let her have most of it, "You okay Chief?"

Tyrol, looked at his wife, if just barely recognizing she had said something, "Cally, how long until the baby comes?"

"Doc Cottle said another two weeks, maybe less."

Chief Tyrol said nothing, and pulled Cally into their tent where he began to look through their makeshift furniture, he threw a slew of clothing on to the bed.

"Chief," Cally said in disbelief, "You can't be serious!"

He stopped sitting down on the bed, just sitting there as Cally sat beside him leaning against him. He put his arm around her, the only comfort he could offer her for their bleak looking future.

She remembered another time, how this all began, if not for one decision she made, both her and the Chief would be back on Galactica. New Caprica was partially colonized, but the Chief would never leave his birds, and she would never leave the Chief. It was her who decided to crawl into his bunk one night, her who told him she was tired of waiting, and her who was naïve enough not to remember to take precautions. She still remembered the look on his face when she told him she was pregnant, it was like she had slapped him in the face.

"Oh." He had said, "But you, you were…"

"No," she replied, somewhat embarrassed by this predicament.

"Just, no?" he seemed to be searching for another answer.

"Before, 'us,' there was no reason for me to, I wasn't frakking anyone."

"So," this seemed awkward, "You want to get married?"

"Yes."

And so they had, showing up in the Old Man's quarters and asking to be married immediately. She wore the blue dress that she danced with him in on Colonial day. They even had a picture taken. But she worried, and she wondered many things. He reassured her she was beautiful, and he loved her and the baby. Their baby, a reminder of shared passion. From the moment she conceived the baby, she loved it. It embodied everything she had ever wanted for along time. When she had permitted herself to briefly fantasize while repairing some pilot's busted viper, she had envisioned children, small reminders of the love they shared and the passion between them. Of course as soon as it was confirmed she was pregnant, she had to leave for New Caprica. The Chief had been given the choice, and he chose her. That was the first moment she ever felt assured of his love.

And she was relieved of duty and their life on New Caprica began.

There were quite a few women having babies, it was cold, and there really wasn't much else to do.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Late that night Cally lay awake, she heard the blankets shifting, felt the Chief pulling her towards him, wrapping his arms around her, letting his hands rest on her belly. Stroking it gently, she let one of her hands fall on top of his.

"So you're awake." He whispered gently in her ear, holding her closer, partly for comfort, mostly for warmth.

"I can't sleep…"

"Me neither."

Cally, as if on cue, felt a wave of pain wash over her body. It was time the baby was coming, now.

'That might be for the best Chief, it seems the baby doesn't want to sleep either."

"Kicking?" He managed in a fond laughing tone.

"No…"

This, Cally observed took a few moments to register, before he leapt out of bed, and ran for Doc Cottle. Cally managed to muffle her scream as the next contraction came. And Chief returned, followed by two very tired looking women.

"We're your midwives." One managed to say. The other looked more familiar, it was, she couldn't remember. Someone who was on the Galactica, she gritted her teeth as the next wave hit.

"Get out of bed," the familiar medic hissed, and the two of them pulled on her arms, "Standing and walking makes labour faster, and less painful."

'You have to work with gravity Cally." The other added, "Chief, you be her support, when the next contraction comes, hang on to the Chief and I, don't lie down, it's the most painful." The chief and the medic/midwives managed to get her on her feet.

The Chief gripped her shoulder and seemed at a loss of words, "It's going to be okay Cally." He managed finally.

"It's best to walk around a bit." The unfamiliar medic said, "Makes things faster."

So Cally did, when the next contraction came, she hung on the Chief moaning, "Frak…"then after she realized it had been better, slightly. "That was better, thank you."

"I should know," the familiar medic laughed, "My daughter's almost three months old, one of the first, luckily I knew pretty much what to do, my mother was a midwife."

Realization hit Cally, this was Blackout, the fainting pilot.

"Blackout." She muttered to her as she walked around the tent, feeling a bit stupid.

"It's just 'Pasht' now."

"And you're?"

"A real midwife…civilian," she paused, "Areina."

Conversation was cut short as Cally screamed and moaned more frequently, the Chief whispered words of encouragement and love, looking fairly helpless, as Cally brought his child into the world.

He was beautiful, Cally thought, absolutely beautiful. From the minute Pasht and Areina handed her the baby, she knew she'd do anything to keep him safe. Looking at the Chief, he was crying, he kissed her forehead. She knew he felt the same way. Whatever came next, they would act together for the good of her son. Their son.

Areina looked at the scene fondly," Do you know what you're going to name him?"

"Nicholas…" Cally sighed, " After my grandfather."

She continued, "And we are not going to call him Nicky." She finished firmly.

Blackout looked on, knowing she better get back to her own child soon. "If you have problems breastfeeding, contact me or Areina, we should be able to give you some pointers." Then the midwives left, allowing the new family to bond.

Chief looked at the child, suddenly struck by inconvenient feelings of devotion to Nicholas, and Cally. Knowing they come first.

Author's note: None of this is mine, except Pasht, who I wanted to reuse, give a story to my comedic pilot.