Chief Petty Officer Galen Tyrol never experienced this kind of nervousness
for a full inspection. He never caught himself ill prepared for any flight
exercise or assignment. This was a unique experience.

He'd shined his boots a dozen times, sifted through his remaining uniform
pieces for the least worn ones and scrubbed under his nails in a futile
attempt to remove all traces of engine grease.

Cally, Kara and Dee all demanded time to give him a once-over. They
pronounced him presentable and from somewhere Cally produced a small bunch
of flowers. She made him promise to say they were from the entire deck crew.
He tried to imagine how foolish he looked in this get up.

Lee Adama fell into step with the Chief as he walked to the Sick Bay. The
Captain brusquely reminded him not to tire out the President by overstaying
his welcome. The "or else" was implied. Now, Tyrol sensed he was going to an
inquisition bearing flowers.

The reservations melted within the first few minutes under Laura Roslin's
warm gaze. She dismissed Billy with a smile and invited the CPO to sit down.
Before he did, he remembered to offer the colorful nosegay and to credit the
knuckle draggers.

The President accepted with thanks adding, "I hate that your talented crew
is referred to that way."

"It's no big deal, Madame President. Old Fleet tradition."

"I'm trying to learn those." She looked around, "Chief, could I trouble you
to put these in that glass there. It should work since there's no vase." Her
deceptively simple request made Tyrol feel like he was calling the shots. In
truth, Laura controlled things with long practiced political skill.

The Chief tried to take in details of President Roslin's appearance. He was
certain everyone else'd interrogate him. She wore a white robe with ridges
in it. Her hair was shiny and loose around her face. She'd taken off her
glasses but kept them folded in her clasped hands.

"Do I pass muster?" There was mischief in Laura's voice.

"What? Oh, I apologize Madame President."

"Don't. I imagine you'll be set upon as soon as you leave here. It's fine;
just keep the details between the crew and us. I'd avoid reporters, if I
were you."

"I always try to, sir. They're leeches."

"Between us, Chief. I often feel the same way. However, I can't avoid them,
at least not forever."

"You can trust me."

"Good. Now, trust me and tell me what's new on the deck and in the Fleet."
She leaned closer and said in a conspiratorial whisper, "No dry facts and
figures, juicy people stuff."

That loosened Tyrol's tongue and he rattled off nonstop about budding
romances, flying milestones, pranks and problems solved by desperation and
invention.

Her manner kept Tyrol talking, "We're starting another stealth fighter,
Madame President. This time it'll be better and stronger. We have a better
grasp of things so it'll take less time to finish."

"Hopefully, this time you'll find a better namesake. I feel like I let all
of you down. The Blackbird might have been stronger with a different name.
'The Laura' should have been tougher."

"I disagree. I let you and everyone else down. It's my fault the Blackbird
wasn't more durable. I figured you wouldn't allow me to call the new one
Laura 2."

She reached out a hand and touched his arm, "Well, we're quite a pair.
However, we both have second chances to make those hopes soar once more and
I'd be honored to have my name on the ship if it's what you want."

"Absolutely, Madame President." He awkwardly patted her hand, "First up
though are the projects on Colonial One."

"Chief Tyrol, there's no need to waste your time there."

"Sorry, sir but I have my orders. The work on the air filter system will
make it more comfortable and healthier for everyone on your ship."

Laura gracefully gave in on something for the greater good, "Fine. There's
no need though to continue building the bed."

"That was a direct order from the Admiral. You'll have to take that up with
him."

The Chief refused to flinch under the President's gaze. She relented, "
Well, I won't put you in the middle of that."

Laura glanced at the clock. "In fact, Chief Tyrol I'm going to spare you any
of the Admiral's wrath and send you on your way."

"I apologize. I didn't mean to stay this long."

"No reason for regret. I've enjoyed it, but Admiral Adama is due to stroll
through here and he'll be unhappy I've kept you off the work detail for too
long."

Her demeanor added status to how Tyrol saw himself. He stood a little taller
as he moved to take his leave from the President of the Twelve Colonies.

"You're still here." Admiral Adama's voice held a sharp edge despite the
volume being suited to a place filled with sick people.

The CPO turned and saluted, "Yes, sir. Sir, I was just leaving."

Laura intervened. "It's my fault, I kept him here. It was nice to see a
friendly face. I hope I can impose on you for another visit, Chief Tyrol."

"Of course, Madame President. I'd be honored."

"You'll give my best and my thanks to your fellow knuckle draggers."

Bill hid a grin at how easily Laura turned the terminology into a title of
honor.

"I'll do that." The Chief acknowledged his commander with a salute and
prepared to flee. But a promise compelled him to turn around, "Excuse me,
one other thing Madame President."

"Yes?"

"The galley crew asked me to tell you that when you're up to it, they will
cook you any meal you like. They said they'll be honored to make it happen."

"I'm grateful to have even more incentive to get out of here in order to
share that meal with all of you."

Tyrol nearly bowed as he left and tossed off one more belated salute to the
Admiral. Adama nodded and waved him out.

***
The pleased and proud expression on the Chief's face told Billy it had been
a good session. It would play well in the Fleet as the word spread. The
Presidential aide put on the brakes when he rounded the corner to see the
Admiral and President sizing each other up.

He watched as Admiral Adama shook his head and then declared, "You have
another devoted follower without even trying. The Chief will earn his wings
without ever getting in a Viper."

Laura looked puzzled, "I'm sorry?"

"He's flying high because of your attention."

"It was pleasant to see a fresh face, a friendly face with time to spare."
Laura's tone was stiff, "You certainly have other places to be and I have
civilian matters to see to with my staff."

It seemed to Billy that the Admiral wanted to disagree. But instead, he
inclined his head curtly toward Laura and swiftly stalked out.

The aide realized he wasn't the only one who didn't understand woman. It
made him feel better to be in the company of the Admiral in this regard.