Sorry for the delay in posting this one, but for a number of reasons, I've decided to end this story sooner as opposed to later. To accommodate that, I needed to change this chapter and then make the corresponding changes to what I'd written earlier this week for chapter 29. I didn't want to post this until I knew that all the loose ends meshed okay. I hope they do. Once I've got chapter 30 finished and everything feels appropriately tied up, I'll post the rest of the story.

Thanks as always to those of you still reading, and to those reviewing, an extra, heart-felt thank you. You've brightened my days and I appreciate it! Writing this has been a challenge and a pleasure and I've enjoyed the conversations it's engendered!

Disclaimer: Like I said before, nothing's changed. Especially not the pleasure I derive from playing with these wonderful, intriguing characters...

Too High a Cost
By: Mariel

-xxxxxxxxxx-

Chapter 28

Redress

Helo watched as a young man in orange workman's overalls strode towards him.

"Are you Captain Agathon?" he asked. When Helo nodded, the man said, "A call's been routed through for the Admiral. He can take it over there." With a wave of his hand, he indicated a phone receiver a few metres further down the corridor.

Helo glanced at the closed hatchway.

"The Admiral's still inside. He can't be disturbed."

Uncaring, the man shrugged a well-muscled shoulder and nodded his head in the direction of the phone.

"Go tell them that."

As the man turned and left, Helo walked over to the phone and lifted the receiver. "This is Captain Agathon. I understand there's a message for the Admiral?"

Lee Adama's familiar voice soon came over the line. "Helo. I think we've found Jason DeCourt. The Admiral wanted to know as soon as we got word."

Helo's eyes widened. He'd gotten to know DeCourt a little during their months orbiting New Caprica. As CAG, he'd often visited the Admiral's quarters, and more times than not it had been DeCourt standing guard at the door. He'd heard the young marine had gone missing, but hadn't known the Admiral was keeping tabs on the search for him.

"Where is he?"

"On the shuttle we just brought onboard."

Helo frowned. "He's sick?"

"I suppose so, if he's on one of the shuttles."

"You haven't seen him?"

He heard Lee pause, then say, "That's next."

"I'll tell the Admiral as soon as he comes out of the meeting. He'll be glad to at least know where he is."

"They're still meeting?" Lee's voice held surprise.

"Yeah," Helo replied in a low tone.

"I hope it's not for much longer. Cottle didn't want him to overdo it." Lee stopped speaking, and Helo heard a voice in the background and a muffled reply. When Lee again spoke into the receiver, he said, "I've got to go. One of the nuggets just made a good-sized dent in the docking bay. Make sure Dad gets the news about DeCourt. It'll make his day." He paused, then asked, "He's okay, right?"

Helo hesitated. He'd observed the Old Man carefully during their walk to the meeting room. Although his stubborn determination to do what he believed needed to be done.was obviously undiminished, the Admiral's movements had been slightly off, and he'd held himself carefully as he'd strode through the corridors. The Old Man, Helo decided, wasn't himself yet, but he gave a damned good performance - and it was that performance, he knew, that he'd want relayed to his son.

"Yeah, he seemed fine," Helo said.

When he heard the relief in Lee's thanks, he felt glad he hadn't said more.

Hanging up the receiver, he looked at the door thoughtfully. It wasn't something important enough to disturb them about, but he remembered Adama mentioning DeCourt was Valerant's brother-in-law. He'd make sure the Admiral had the news before he left, so he could pass on the information to Valerant himself.

-xxx-

Adama winced as he again moved in search of a comfortable position. This time, he gave in to the need to remove his glasses and massage the area between his eyes.

It gave him no relief.

Not for the first time, Roslin looked at him with concern. In the past thirty minutes, there had been several subtle indications that he wasn't feeling well. Making a decision, she said, "I think it's time we finished, Admiral. Whatever details we have left to cover can be dealt with by others."

Knowing that Cottle's warning had prompted this, he shook his head. "I'm fine," he said in a low tone. Looking at Valerant, he ignored the sharp throbbing in his temple, put his glasses on, and slid a file across the table. "Here's the information on the pilots and the time they're available. Once you've determined where you can best use them, contact my CAG. He'll arrange to have my pilots where you want them, when you want them. They-"

He stopped abruptly and stiffened.

Darkness and rain and cold wet rock.

Valerant and Roslin both waited for him to continue. When he didn't, Roslin reached out her hand. Pressing on his arm, she said, "Admiral?"

For one long heartbeat, he didn't answer.

A scream of warning and her body flying in front of him. Flashes of yellow. An exclamation. Laura. Gods...Laura, no...

She rose. Placing her hand on his shoulder, she shook it slightly. "Bill."

His eyes closed and he pulled a ragged breath of air into his lungs and let it out heavily.

Her body thrown against his; pain ripping though him.

Unsettled by having his mind in two places at once, he rasped, "I'm okay."

She'd done it on purpose. Oh, gods...

His hand reached up to cover hers. Trying to anchor himself, he concentrated on the warmth of her skin beneath his palm. "I'm okay," he repeated.

On purpose...

Keeping hold of her hand, he brought it down to rest on his thigh while jagged shards of memory flashed across his mind.

Gods, it hurt...

Kneeling beside him, she ignored how tightly he held her hand and turned frantic eyes towards Valerant. "Call my escort. He needs to get back to Galactica."

He is sandwiched between the hard, cold ground and her soft, warm body. Rain falls into his eyes. He can feel it make its way down the sides of his head, tickling slightly as it slides through his hair.

She looked at Bill, green eyes darkened in worry. "Gods, I shouldn't have waited so long," she muttered. "He shouldn't have-" She stopped and took a deep, calming breath. Noticing that Valerant was still staring at them, she ordered, "Please. Get my detail. We brought a medic. He needs to get in here."

He hears her say, "I'm sorry."

Shaken from his shocked inaction, Valerant nodded and quickly went to the door.

She says his name, and he wants to tell her he loves her...

-xxx-

By the time Agathon, the medic, and the President's people had rushed into the room, the memories had stopped their cacophonous onslaught and his thoughts were once again anchored in the present. His head throbbed dully, however, and he badly wanted to close his eyes. His job not yet finished, he ignored both his desire to rest and the obviously overwhelmed medic who checked his pulse with trembling hands. Forcing his mind to think clearly, he asked Valerant, "Are you satisfied with what we've arranged? Is there anything more you need?"

Valerant nodded, his concerns now less focussed on pilots and more on the man sitting in front of him. "I'm satisfied, yes."

"Bill," Laura said, "if there's more, he can contact us on Galactica. We've got to get you back."

Unwilling to lose physical contact with him, she stood close to him with her hand resting on his shoulder.

He looked up at her as the medic undid his uniform top to better listen to his heart. He knew he ought to be shrugging off the attention and insisting that they finish their meeting properly, but an odd lethargy had enveloped him...

"I'm okay." He protested weakly. "It's just a headache..."

And the return of a memory that had shaken him to the core.

"We need to talk," he said.

Talk?

The non sequitur surprised her, but she nodded.

"Whenever you want," she said.

-xxx-

Sitting down heavily in one of the raptor's passenger seats, Bill warned Agathon with a glare not to even attempt to help with his safety restraints. Reaching up, he pulled them on and secured the clasps in preparation for leaving. He felt better now; the just-walked-out-of-the-water heaviness that enveloped him after his memory's return had lifted quickly after a moment's rest and a drink of water. The roaring pain in his temples had dulled to a manageable, pulsating throb.

"He was an opinionated sonofabitch," he muttered to Laura under his breath.

Amusement softened some of the worry in her eyes. Knowing he was talking about Valerant, she took the seat next to him and said, "You liked him, though."

He nodded. "He's experienced, he's honest, and he'll get the pilots back."

Now over some of the disgruntlement he'd felt at the man's outspokenness, he gave her a sideways glance and added dryly, "Doesn't appear to be afraid of speaking his mind, either."

Laura began to manipulate her own restraints. Leaning back in her seat when she was finished, she obeyed his unspoken request that they continue to talk about anything but his health and what had happened to him in the meeting room. Softly, she muttered, "There was a time or two I had difficulty not speaking my mind. Honest is fine, but he was a little too honest for my liking - the man could take a lesson or two in tact, don't you think? Gods, he was sure of himself! And he knew far more than he should have! Where in Hades did he get all his information?" Her voice calmed a little when she added, "He did seem glad to hear about his brother-in-law, though."

Smiling inwardly at her waspish reaction to Valerant's bluntness, he nodded. "I'm glad we had the news to give."

She glanced at him. The news about DeCourt had truly pleased Bill. William Adama got attached to the people around him even if he didn't allow himself to get close. She didn't quite understand the balance of it, but it was there nonetheless. Hearing about the Admiral's persistent search for his brother-in-law (Agathon had made sure to mention that) had won them good will points from Valerant that Bill wasn't even aware of. She, however, had seen the flash of surprised appreciation on the pilot's face and knew exactly what it meant: Bill had yet another fan.

Valerant had smiled widely.

"My wife is going to be really happy to hear this. Thank you, sir," he'd said. Then he'd explained that with few people in the fleet with family members still alive, his wife had felt truly blessed that she'd been on the Galactica during the decommissioning ceremony to see her brother before he was transferred to a new ship. It had meant they'd both survived. "Jason's fine on his own," he'd said, "but she worries about her baby brother at the best of times. Having him disappear the way he did-" he shrugged. "I don't think she's slept since we realised he was missing. I don't know what it would have done to her if we'd never found him."

Karl Agathon had smoothly broken into the conversation and said, "I believe the President has set up something that might help ease your wife's mind even more," and then looked at her expectantly.

Surprised he knew about what she and Tory had set up, and even more surprised that he would volunteer information that would put her in a good light, Roslin turned to Valerant and smiled. "Yes, that's true. In co-operation with Galactica's medical facilities, we've set up a desk for enquiries about people on the shuttles. If you call my office and explain what you need, someone there will find out for you how he's doing in better detail. It will help ease her worry, at least."

Valerant had nodded. Stepping back, he'd looked at the two leaders, then said, "Then I thank you both. But I shouldn't keep you any longer. Thank you." After hesitating for a fraction, he'd then added firmly, "Please don't forget what I said today."

At his words, Roslin's jaw had clenched involuntarily. Gratitude obviously hadn't erased all the concerns the pilot held about them.

Unable to stop herself from remarking on the man's insistence that they do something about the way they handled themselves, she told Adama, "Finding his brother-in-law didn't wipe our slate clean with him."

"I wouldn't expect it to. And to be honest, I'd be happier if he hadn't had a point," Bill admitted reluctantly. He waited as he felt the welcome sensation of their raptor rising from the hangar deck floor, then continued, "If you look at the situation from his point of view, it's hard to argue with him."

"Didn't make it any easier to hear, though." Glancing first at Agathon and then at her detail, she wondered how all the information Valerant had held had gotten out. "We'll discuss it later, in private," she promised.

Later sounded fine to him. He rested his head back against the wall and lapsed into silence. Unconsciously, he grimaced. Poundy drums still beat a dull, unpleasant tattoo against his skull. He closed his eyes. There was so much to think about...

Laura noticed his withdrawal and felt concern coil more tightly in her belly. Feeling someone's eyes on her, she looked up to see Agathon regarding her silently. Their eyes met briefly before quickly sliding away. She felt a familiar tremor of unease, but then realised that his expression had held none of the cool reserve and accusation it usually did when he looked at her. Curiously, she turned her gaze back towards him, and wondered why the change...

-xxx-

Exiting the raptor, Bill stepped heavily onto the deck. After assisting Laura off the ramp, he stopped her forward movement with a touch on her arm and asked, "Are you feeling all right?"

When she answered in the affirmative and eyed him curiously, he asked another question. "Think you can handle a short walk before we go back to Life Station?"

"Of course," she assured him, "but-"

"Just a minute," he interrupted. Moving over to where Helo stood, he spoke to him in a low tone. When he was finished, Helo looked troubled, said something in reply, but then finally nodded and turned away. Roslin watched as he began to speak to the medic who had attended Bill. Her attention was diverted, however, when Adama returned to her side and said, "Tell your detail you're taking a detour."

She looked at him with a puzzled expression, but didn't question him. Turning, she walked over to her head of security and did as he asked. Once that was done and she had returned to his side, he took her elbow and guided her out of the docking area.

When they were in the corridor, his hand dropped away and he turned in the opposite direction from Life Station.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"You can't guess?"

She could.

"Cottle isn't going to be happy," she said. She was beginning to wish she hadn't acquiesced to Bill's insistence that Cottle not be notified of what had happened until their return. Had Cottle known, he'd have had people waiting for them to arrive, and Bill would have been taken to Life Station immediately.

"Hang Cottle," Bill groused. "He's never happy anyway. All I want is a few minutes in peaceful surroundings."

"And you're bringing me along because...?"

"We need to talk, and at the moment, we're headed toward what's probably the only safe and secure place left for that in the entire fleet."

It was an exaggeration, but he had a point. Their conversation with Valerant had been nothing if not enlightening so far as just how much information was out in the fleet about things they had believed well under the radar.

"It won't be long before Cottle figures out we're not where we should be," she warned.

His response was curt. "My door's thick and it's got a damned good lock. It'll take a while to get through no matter how determined he is." He paused as a dull throb pulsed in his temple again, then added in a grumpy tone, "I'm not going back to Life Station until I'm good and ready."

Honesty made him admit to himself that it might be sooner rather than later. Although the half-hour rest in the raptor had helped restore him even further and the pain in his head was receding, he was tired, and the thought of reclining on his sofa in the muted lighting of his quarters was far more attractive than he liked to admit.

-xxx-

Re-entering his quarters after so many weeks was bittersweet. He'd left thinking never to return, and a tightness in his chest eased as he stepped into its welcome, familiar embrace.

A soft sigh of relief rumbled from his throat as he secured the hatch and then crossed the floor.

"Have a seat," he said over his shoulder. "I'm going to see if my liquor is still here."

She blinked. "Who would dare steal the Admiral's booze?"

He grunted softly and squatted down to pull on one of his desk drawers. "Kara Thrace is pretty good at it."

"Oh," she said, sitting on the broad expanse of sofa and hoping that he found something. "I assume there's an interesting story behind that comment."

He returned with a bottle and two glasses.

Sitting down beside her, he said, "For my last birthday, Kara gifted me a bottle of ambrosia she'd got by slowly siphoning it off from my own stock." He smiled. "I figured out it was going missing and that she was likely the one taking it by the time she had about ten ounces."

"And you didn't confront her immediately?"

He shook his head. "I didn't catch her red-handed, so she'd just have denied it. Besides, I got curious about why she was doing it. All she had to do was ask, and I'd have given her a bottle; she knew that."

"I don't think I understand the point."

"The challenge, and it would have been fun."

Roslin frowned. "A challenge."

He nodded and his face relaxed into a grin. "Yeah. To steal it, she had to either get in while I was out, or take it while I was here, without my knowing. It couldn't have been easy, but I didn't catch her in the act once. She must have loved it."

Still not sure she totally got it - though it was obvious Bill did - she nodded.

"Does she know you know now?"

Again, he nodded, and his grin grew wider. "And she's working on a bottle for my next birthday. I'm not making it easy for her, though."

Holding the bottle up, he examined it, then said, "I hadn't planned to return, so I didn't hide this. She obviously hasn't been back long enough to come in and make a search." He poured some of the pleasantly coloured liquid into each glass and passed one to her.

I hadn't planned to return. Roslin felt something wrench in her gut at his easy admission. Recovering, she looked up to find him regarding her with dark eyes and his mood suddenly changed..

"To miraculous recoveries," he said, saluting her with his glass.

She hesitated. "Should you be drinking right now?"

He looked at her steadily, his glass raised.

After a moment's pause, she relaxed and lifted her drink in response.

Touching the lip of her glass against his, she echoed, "To miraculous recoveries."

He took a drink and swallowed. Looking at the liquid swirling in his glass, he said, "A lot of what he said was true, you know."

Not disconcerted by the sudden change in topic and tone, she nodded but waited for him to decide how to approach the issue.

Sliding down, he rested his head on the back of the sofa comfortably. "It means we've got a lot to consider." He closed his eyes, grateful for the way the alcohol warmed his insides. His headache was almost gone, too.

She looked at him and found herself still unable to quash her concern. He was exhausted, there was no doubt about it. But there was something changed in his demeanour that worried her even more.

"Are you feeling all right?" she asked.

"Yeah. Just a bit of a headache still."

She wasn't convinced he was telling the truth, but knew better than to push.

They lapsed into silence, enjoying both the liquor they probably shouldn't have been drinking, and being back in his quarters.

Together.

When she felt the warm, familiar awareness between them begin to kindle itself once again, she tried to shrug it off. Concentrating mightily, she shifted and then quietly observed, "You're not angry anymore."

He took inventory of his feelings, realised she was right. There was stress, surprise, and hurt. There was a part of him still crying 'Why?' But anger? No. He felt its absence, missed its energy, but found he could neither dredge it back into existence nor mourn its passing.

What was done, was done.

"No," he said in a low tone. "I'm not angry anymore."

"But you haven't forgiven," she said.

He opened an eye to look at her, then closed it.

"Forgiveness has never been something you've asked for," he said.

"And if I were to ask for it now?"

A long silence followed her quietly spoken words. Finally, he stirred. Opening his eyes, he slowly turned them to meet hers. He wasn't sure he was ready for this conversation. Wasn't sure he was ready to once and for all say goodbye to the hope he had held so close for such a heart-wrenchingly short period of time.

"Are you sure we're ready for this conversation, Laura?"

Unable to read his expression, she nodded.

"In that case, there's something I need to ask you first."

Laura looked at him and felt a tremble of fear.

End
Chapter 28