Sorry for the long, long delay. A timely nudge from She-Who-Kicks-Butt-Better-Than-Most got me moving. I've got three chapters finished, and the story's almost done.

I think.

Disclaimer: In case no one remembers: except for Meyes and Valerant and a few misc. bit players, none of the characters are mine - but I've been told I can play with them all I want. So I do.

Hey, it's fun...

Recap: Adama's awake from his coma. He's gotten to the point where he's accepted and may be even glad that he didn't die on Kobol, but he and Roslin still don't quite know what to do about each another. They're still stuck in the same room in Life Station, and still affected by the push/pull of their shared past, but a crisis is helping them avoid dealing with their own issues. The two are now on the Gideon in order to negotiate an end to a pilots' strike that's exacerbated troubles already present in the fleet caused by an out-of-control bacterial infection that's causing illness and death in a large portion of the populace. Thing is, Richard Valerant, the man the pilots have chosen to negotiate for them, is going to want them to examine a little more than just pilot demands...

Too High a Cost
By: Mariel

Chapter 26

Perspectives

The Admiral looked at Helo and raised one shaggy eyebrow.

"You're coming too?" he asked.

Maintaining pace with his CO as they walked away from the raptor and deeper into the bowels of the Gideon, Helo explained, "You're Admiral of the Fleet, you're accompanied by the President of the Twelve Colonies, and you're visiting an unsecured civilian ship to talk with a man who has instigated a strike that is creating serious, fleet-wide problems. Yes, sir, I'm coming too, sir." He'd done some swift talking to dissuade Sharon from joining them, too. Only noting that she needed to stay with the raptor to make sure that it remained secure had kept her behind.

"The President's security team wouldn't have sufficed for both of us?" Adama protested mildly.

Helo just stared at him stubbornly and continued to walk beside him.

The Admiral recognised the set of the captain's mouth. "I guess not," he answered himself in a dry tone. "In that case, captain, I appreciate your company. Always good to know you have my back."

Helo's lips quirked upward. "Any time, sir."

Adama nodded. Helo Agathon was a good man. His thought processes were simple, direct, and, in the grand scheme of things, always eventually ended up evaluating one thing: was it right, or wrong? At the moment, he obviously felt that it was right to provide an escort, no matter that there were enough people in the President's detail to more than take care of both himself and said President.

The two men lapsed into companionable silence. Behind them, they could hear the footfalls of Roslin's rear security guard. Ahead of them, they could hear the President's voice as she replied to comments made by the pilot Valerant had sent to escort them to their meeting place. Idly, Adama wondered if she'd noticed how quickly he'd fallen back and out of range of the shower of inane small talk the man had begun as soon as they'd started walking.

As though reading his thoughts, she took that moment to turn her head and give him a look designed to make strong men quail.

He allowed himself a moment's satisfaction.

She noticed.

-xxx-

Eventually, their small group drew to a stop in front of a hatch. Adama moved forward to stand beside Roslin. Their guide opened the hatchway and gestured for the two leaders to step inside.

Roslin hesitated. Though her advance detail had just assured her that the room was secure, and though she knew that her bodyguards would be just outside, she wasn't certain she liked Bill's easy agreement to meet with Valerant alone. She glanced at him as he automatically passed through the entryway before her and took up position just inside the entrance. His face revealed nothing, so she had no idea what he thought about having been met by an intermediary upon their arrival rather than by Valerant himself. In politics, that action would have said much, and none of it good.

She sighed. Bill didn't appear concerned.

But then again, he rarely did.

Preoccupied with her thoughts, her heel clumsily caught on the lip of the hatch as she stepped through it. Quickly, Bill reached out to stop her fall. They both paused, surprised by the unexpected, familiar contact.

"You okay?" he asked softly.

She nodded, and he slowly released her. Regaining her poise, she moved away from his touch and further into the room.

The lights from several wall sconces revealed a gloomy space obviously reserved for small meetings such as this. A table stood in the middle of the room with three glasses and a carafe of what she supposed was water resting on its scarred top. A man she assumed to be Richard Valerant stood behind it. He appeared to be somewhere in his early forties, and had wiry, dark hair cut fairly short. Large, tired brown eyes set under thick, straight eyebrows observed them intently. As she and the Admiral stepped towards him, a smile eased his worn features and he walked around the table to meet them.

"Madame President, Admiral Adama," he said in greeting, "Thank you for agreeing to meet here." Confirming his identity, he reached out a calloused hand and said in a firm voice, "I'm Richard Valerant." When they were finished shaking hands, he gestured toward the table and said, "Please, take a seat."

While the Admiral saw to Roslin's chair and then seated himself, Valerant moved to the other side of the table. "I apologise for not meeting you when you arrived," he said as he settled into his chair.

Though he did not offer a reason for his breach of protocol, his apology sounded sincere. Continuing her appraisal of the pilot, Roslin decided that he didn't immediately strike her as a firebrand who incited strikes and civil unrest. Though obviously not lacking in self-confidence, his voice and demeanor were surprisingly polite and unassuming. Still, he had been chosen by the pilots to speak for them, so there were obviously facets of his personality yet to be revealed. She watched with interest as he and Bill regarded one another steadily. To her surprise, she got the impression that they were both reassured by what they saw.

Bill cleared his throat, and she turned her attention toward him. They had agreed that he'd carry the conversation, as he'd requested the meeting in the first place. The purpose for having herself present would unfold however Valerant chose.

"Mr. Valerant," Bill said, "I'm sure you'll understand if we get right down to the business of why I asked to speak with you."

Valerant gestured with one hand. "I have to say I was surprised it was you who asked," he said. Sliding a glance towards Roslin, he returned his gaze to Adama and continued, "I wasn't certain who would contact me after Vice President Zarek's departure. I was expecting someone perhaps with piloting experience, and hopefully someone with a..." He hesitated. After making an obvious mental search for a diplomatic word, he finished, "...less troubled...history. You," he admitted honestly, "weren't on my list of possibilities. Not that you don't fit," he hastened to add, "but under the circumstances, I wouldn't have expected the military to be involved so quickly, and certainly not at your level. It's still a civilian problem, after all."

Laura bit her lip. After Valerant's comment about Zarek, she knew damned well Bill wanted to shoot her an 'I told you so' look. A terrorist and a crook, he'd called the Vice President when objecting to the choice of him as a negotiator. Perhaps he was right, but still...better the devil you knew...

His face impossible to read, Adama refrained from commenting on the Vice President, however, and responded to the pilot's assertion that the problem they were dealing with was a civilian one.

"There are times and places," he said, "where the line between military and civilian interests is somewhat blurred. Since the cylon attack and our exodus from Caprica, I think it's safe to say that military and civilian interests are increasingly one and the same."

Valerant frowned. "But the difficulties between you and the President seem to indicate that the two interests are, by definition, diametrically opposed. In fact, since New Caprica, rumour has it that the two most important people in our power structure have avoided one another and barely spoken."

Roslin could see her own surprise at Valerant's blunt comment mirrored in the way Bill's eyes temporarily widened. Recovering quickly, however, he turned to look at her a moment. She could have sworn she saw a hint of amusement in his eyes before he returned his gaze to Valerant and said in a gruff tone, "Obviously an exaggeration."

Unswayed, Valerant said, "My sources are reliable, so I don't think so. It's why I insisted that if I were going to speak with one of you, I had to speak to you both. I can't have an agreement with one of you fall apart because the other decides not to uphold what's been negotiated."

Roslin watched as Valerant's insistence he was right made Adama observe the pilot more closely. He then paused and looked down at his hands. Few of the battles he and she had fought were secret, but she felt relief when Bill appeared to feel no need to account to this particular man for anything either of them had said or done. Instead, he looked up and held the pilot's gaze firmly.

"Different circumstances require different courses of action. For the moment, my-" He stopped abruptly and, after shooting a look at her, amended, "For the moment, our primary concern is to get supplies out to the civilian fleet and to defuse the potentially disastrous situation that's fomenting. I don't need to describe the state of emergency that we'll be faced with if this strike continues."

Valerant sat back in his chair. Obviously having analysed the situation and plotted out a sequence of debating points, he said, "If the strike continues, you'll be faced with the prospect of being asked by the government to take on the responsibility of civilian supply runs in addition to defending the fleet. You also have a number of shuttles filled with hundreds of people requesting sanctuary on the Galactica because they've been forced to leave their own ships. Considering the manpower shortage we're experiencing, I'm sure it's an unpleasant situation for you to be in."

Roslin drew a quick breath and clenched her fists. Unpleasant? She shot a look at Bill. She knew how short of pilots he was; knew the stress he had borne on a daily basis because he had to protect the fleet with a too small, overtired flight crew. Valerant, she decided, was far too cavalier about the 'responsibility' that she would be forced to ask the Admiral to assume if this meeting didn't work something out. Add to that the people - the sick and dying people - being forced from their ships and sent out into the fleet with no other refuge but Galactica, and there were unspeakable pressures on him. She stifled an angry exclamation and glared at the man sitting across the table. He had the nerve to speak of the situation as being merely unpleasant...

Unable to remain quiet, she broke into the conversation.

"It's more than unpleasant, Mr. Valerant. It can and will cost lives we can't afford to lose! Our defences are already stretched to the breaking point - it's not, after all, just civilian pilots that have been lost or put out of rotation because of the bacterial infection. To ask the military to assume civilian supply runs when they're already running undermanned CAP shifts would have disastrous results if the cylons appear. And to be forced into the situation where we increase the number of people sick and dying of the contagion on the very ship that is our only defence against the cylons is untenable!" She caught Bill's surprised glance of warning, and subsided slightly. "What is it you really want?" she asked in a slightly quieter tone. "What do you hope to accomplish by creating a situation like this?"

Valerant didn't answer her. Instead, he turned an appraising looked at Adama. "This is obviously one of those times when the military and civilian leaders are in agreement."

Adama hesitated, then admitted honestly, "Not exactly. Taking over the supply routes is not something I consider desirable, and it's my hope we can work something out with you today that will enable me to avoid it. In regards to the shuttles, one from the Aurora has already been docked; another has probably entered our landing pod by now."

The pilot frowned in surprise. "You allowed them to board? I thought that might just be rumour. You had presidential permission to do so?"

"It was a military decision."

Valerant's eyes bounced between the man and woman sitting across from him. The President had provided all the arguments he'd expected to hear from the Admiral. The last thing he'd expected to hear from Adama was that he had allowed the shuttles onboard. He shook his head. Gathering his thoughts into order again, he said, "So, though I don't even begin to understand why you're taking the positions you're taking, it appears military and civilian interests are once again at odds."

"Not at all," Adama said smoothly. "Our interests are the same; it is only our perception of which methods should be used to further our interests that differ."

Surprised at this adept parry, Laura settled back in her chair.

Valerant nodded as though finally hearing what he needed to hear. "And again, that is precisely why I asked that both of you be present today," he said. "As leaders of the two most important parts of our power structure, I'm concerned about the rumours that are going around. It's no secret you often disagree, nor is it a secret that when you don't agree, you're more apt to do something behind each other's back than you are to sit down and openly deal with it. That creates a problem for me: I've got people trusting me to take care of their best interests. That means I need to know that what we agree on today will be upheld after I leave this room." He paused, then added bluntly, "By both of you."

"You don't trust us?" Adama asked.

There was a tinge of frustration in his expression when Valerant responded.

"Gods - you don't trust each other. Why would I trust either of you?"

-xxx-

Lee stood in his office and stared at the ensign in front of him. "Frak! Are you sure?" Lee asked.

The ensign nodded. "Look for yourself, sir."

Lee took the proffered manifest and read the name on the list the young man's finger indicated.

He looked up. "Anyone spoken to him yet?"

The ensign stepped back and shook his head. "No, sir. All I know is his name is on the list."

"What the hell was he doing on that shuttle?"

The ensign looked uncomfortable. Noticing the young man's unease, Lee sighed. "That was a purely rhetorical question, ensign, I'm not expecting an answer." Deciding to put the man out of his misery, he dismissed him, saying. "Thank you, that was good work. You may return to your duties, now."

Stepping into the office as the ensign departed, Kara Thrace made an unannounced entrance. She gave the ensign a curious glance, then looked at Lee.

"What's up?" she asked.

"I think we've found Jason DeCourt," he said.

She frowned, then remembered who DeCourt was. Her eyes widened. "That's good news," she said. "The Old Man's been worried."

"Guess where we found him."

"Life's too short to spend it guessing. Tell me," she said dryly.

"The shuttle Dad just ordered we allow onboard. We asked that a passenger manifest be drawn up before we took them to quarantine. The ensign who just left noticed the name and brought my attention to it."

"Smart nugget," Kara smiled. "You send word to your father yet? He said he wanted to know right away."

"He's still on the Gideon."

She shrugged. "He said he wanted to know as soon as there was news. You can get word to him there. He was worried. Who knows? It might help with the negotiations. It'll at least make him feel better."

Not, Lee thought, if DeCourt's dying.

He looked at Kara. "Or not," he said. "Remember where we found him."

Kara put both hands up in surrender. "I'd tell him as soon as I could, is all I'm saying." She paused a moment, pretending to look at an object on one of the wall shelves.

Knowing there was something brewing, Lee allowed her some silence.

Finally, she said in a quiet voice, "Should we try to do something, Lee?"

He looked over at her, a crease forming between his brows. The sudden change in her tone and manner told him this was something important, and something that she had thought about for a while. Tension grew in the air between them and he felt his heart thump as he asked in a low voice, "Do something about what, Kara?"

"About them. They-" She hesitated, then continued, "They're awfully unhappy. But I don't think he's so mad at her anymore. Maybe there's something we could do to-"

Lee tuned her out. So this was why she had dropped by. He clenched his jaw. Why were all the women in his life always so frakking concerned about his father? Inhaling tightly, he stifled a wave of frustration. The fleet was in a state of crisis, and here was Kara, using her time and energy to worry about his father's emotional life. Again! Shaking his head, he spoke over her words and said, "Oh, no. Don't go there, Kara. We've had this conversation before, remember? It wasn't our business on Kobol, and it's none of our business now. You're as bad as Dee."

Something flickered in her eyes at the mention of his wife, but it was quickly gone. She gave him a cocky smile that only faltered slightly. "Way to hurt my feelings," she said. Sobering, she continued, "It's just that he deserves some happiness, don't you think? Maybe there's something we can do to help them get back to where they were when they both seemed happy. I mean, we've done a lot of things for the President that have caused wrinkles in their relationship. Maybe it's time we tried to figure out a way of doing something that ironed things out a bit."

"And maybe we should just keep our noses out of it," Lee said in a short tone. "Besides, you're leaving an important person out of the equation, aren't you? How do you know she's even interested?"

Kara took his question as a positive sign. Remembering what she had witnessed on Kobol, and the way the President's arms had wrapped themselves around Adama, she told him, "She's interested, trust me." She hesitated, then said, "I think they need each other, Lee. Life isn't great at the moment. Hell, it hasn't been great for a long time. They don't have other people they can turn to. It's hard to be alone; to be alone in their positions must be awful."

"He's not alone. He has us. He has his crew."

Kara smiled. "It's not the same, and you know it."

He remained stubbornly adamant. "I don't want anything to do with it. He'd kill us if he even knew we knew."

Kara smiled, knowing that in spite of himself, he was considering it. "I'll let you know if I think of something. It would be nice," she said in a wistful tone, "to get back to the way things were." She held his eyes with her own and waited a beat. When Lee didn't respond, she covered her sadness by looking at the wall time piece.

"And now I have to go. I'm on CAP, remember."

He watched her leave. Just like her, he thought. Make him think and then leave him alone with the thoughts. He looked at the phone, wondering if he should interrupt his father's meeting with Valerant.

He sighed, and slowly reached for the receiver.

-xxx-

Cottle leaned over his desk and hung up the phone with a bang. "Damnedest excuses I've ever heard."

Standing to his left, Dana Meyes continued checking off medic reports she had piled on the cluttered top of his office's filing cabinets. She didn't turn around as she asked, "The tests haven't been done?"

"I don't think they even remembered they had them to do."

She shrugged and closed another file. "They've been busy."

Cottle frowned. She had a point, but he wasn't in the mood for logic. "I told them to send the samples back to me and I'd do them myself."

At this, Meyes turned. "Like you don't have enough to do," she scolded.

"I need the results. Roslin is threatening to leave Life Station, and I want the tests done before she actually does. And I hate to admit it, but if he starts whining about leaving, I don't really have too big a case for making him stay much longer, either."

Suspecting she knew the reason for his concern in regard to their amazing recoveries, she understood his wanting the tests done before releasing them. "You know that if you need help, I'm here," she told him. Opening a new file, she looked at him and asked, "What did they say about the drug trials?"

"They're going fine. So far, it looks as though what they've developed is pretty universal - it looks like it stops 'em from dying if they've been infected, and stops 'em from getting infected if they're exposed to it."

"That's wonderful!" she smiled. She paused, then added in a dry tone, "I suppose this is no time to ask questions about test group size and length of study."

He snorted. "Damned right it's not the time. We can't waste lives by being thorough. I think we can only go another twenty-four hours or so and we're going to have to start doling it out to fleet. We're damned lucky that because the infection is so quick to start we can observe the effects of the inoculation just as quickly. Roberts is doing his damnedest to produce the stuff as quickly as possible."

"There's going to be pandemonium once the announcement's been made," Meyes warned.

Cottle nodded. "Everyone and their mother is going to have a case for their getting it ahead of everyone else. All we can do is try our best to keep people orderly."

Feeling tired just at the thought, Meyes closed her eyes. Opening them again, she noticed the time and straightened. "When is President Roslin and the Admiral due back?" she asked.

"I don't know. I'm hoping not long from now. An hour or so, maybe."

"You said the President wants out of Life Station?"

"That's what she said this morning. It appears the joy of seeing Adama awake has worn off pretty quick."

Dana's disappointment was evident. "I don't think I understand them at all," she said sadly.

Cottle grunted. "Join the crowd. They don't understand themselves, either." He hesitated, then said in a softer tone, "I'm going to be honest, Meyes. No matter what they decide to do about whatever it is that's going on between them, it's going to be a disaster. I'm beginning to think that denying themselves a relationship would be pretty devastating to them in a number of ways. On the other hand, I don't think they can have a relationship and still lead the fleet the way they have been. I don't think people would accept it."

As expected, Meyes glared at him.

"That's silly," she said in a sharp tone. "Who else would lead the fleet if they didn't? You think people are prepared to vote for Baltar again? You think Zarek and the company he keeps fills anyone with reassurance? How many of his thuggish buddies would come along for the ride? And name one other Quorum member you'd want leading us anywhere!" She shook her head. "The military's in no better shape. Who'd you want in charge? Certainly not Tigh. There's Adama Junior, but he's not ready yet, and maybe he doesn't even want the job. So whether or not President Roslin and Admiral Adama are involved or not, they're still our best hope for survival. I think people know that."

The doctor shook his head. Leaning back into his chair, he rested his arms on the arm rests and swung his feet up onto his desk. "The ones who think for themselves, maybe. The rest of the idiots out there only know and believe whatever piece of crap they've just heard on the wireless, and you know the press would have a field day if they thought the President and the Admiral were involved. They only deal in dirt and dissension, and if there's a way of raking some up, they're in there like jackals on a carcass. Bill and Roslin wouldn't stand a chance. We'd have written reports of how one of them influenced the other every time a decision got made."

Meyes shook her head. With a slight, dismissive motion that told Cottle she was losing her patience with him, she said, "I don't think whether they wake up in the morning in the same bed or in two different ones really makes a lot of difference in what they see as important or in how they feel the fleet should be led. They've been nothing but determined to do whatever needs to be done to ensure our survival. Would that change because they have sex? Would one suddenly stop thinking for themselves and mindlessly follow whatever the other said?" She waved her hands impatiently. "They're adults! Besides," she added in a wistful tone, "the way things are I don't think there's harm in accepting companionship when it's there for the taking."

Cottle didn't disagree, but he didn't hold out much hope that people would take it as pragmatically as she. Both lapsed into silence, and he watched as she turned and opened up one of the filing cabinet drawers. Picking up a file, she began to flip through the tabs with practiced ease, looking for a place to put it. The right place for the file found, she slipped it in and closed the file drawer. Straightening her shoulders, she turned. The look on her face told him she wasn't finished with the Adama/Roslin thing.

"We're not living in normal circumstances, Jack," she said. "We don't have a large number of experienced, willing, and able people to lead us. Nor do we have the luxury of having a large number of people from which to find someone to love. They are what we have for leaders - and they've been doing all right so far, all things considered. If they've also discovered that they care for each other, then I think they should be able to without worry of repercussions."

Cottle sighed. She'd make a great campaign manager if they ever needed one. And, though he hated to admit it, he was beginning to think she was preaching to the choir. "You may be right," he said, "and in a perfect world, that would be great, but you know damned well that nothing is that easy any more. You mark my words: if it ever leaks out that they're involved - and I say if, because I'm not sure what the frak is going on with them at the moment - but if they are, and word leaks out, there'll be hell to pay."

Meyes didn't respond. Cottle could be a sonofabitch and a total cynic, but she had come to know and understand what lay beneath his gruff exterior.

He was worried, and that was never a good sign.

End
Chapter 26

Thanks for stopping by to read. And again, my apologies - I hope the recap help orientate everyone again...