She dreams of the Opera House again, chasing down the steps to get to Hera, Sharon rushing down the opposite stairwell. As always happens, Six scoops up the child and hands her to Baltar, but this time they wait for Laura and Sharon to catch up to them. Six holds out her hand, grabs Laura's fingers in a firm and gentle grip. Looking down, Laura notices she's still wearing the cast on her other hand, can even feel the throb and itch of the injuries underneath. Six tugs at her hand, leads her to the other end of the lobby to the double doors that slowly open before them. Bright, pure white light spills over them and Laura feels a kind of peace wash over her, the likes of which she's never felt before, the closest she's come is when she was down on Earth, surrounded by her loved ones, or more recently, after she'd come undone, safe in Bill's arms.

She gasps in wonder and Six smiles, whispers in her ear. "I think we need to go in together," she says but as they step through the door into the light beyond, the world comes rushing back.

Laura opens her eyes and finds herself lying on the floor, her cheek pressed to the deck plating. Her hand hurts, she can feel it, but it's distant, like a second cousin, twice removed. Somewhere, people are yelling, fighting, but it feels like it's all happening down the corridor, in some other room, not here. Her vision is streaked with reds and violets, the bright lights of the Opera house, the after effects of her dream or vision, are playing havoc with her senses.

She can feel someone hovering over her though, a hand stroking her back. Bill she knows and smiles with the knowledge, his touch is already so familiar, more so with the love they shared only hours before. She rolls over and the confusion of her senses resolves itself as she looks up into the concerned blue of his eyes, tries to lever herself up.

"Laura, don't." He gently pushes her back down again. "Stay there, Lee's already on the horn to get Cottle."

So Lee is okay, she sighs a little in relief. "There's no need, I'm alright," she says as she brushes his hand away, tries to right herself again. This time, he helps her, meanwhile throwing a command at Lee to belay his order for Cottle to come down here.

"You're sure?" His voice is constricted, his touch urgent with need. "You're not hurt?"

"I don't think so," she says, but quiets as he sucks in a breath. She follows his line of sight, notices the state of her cast.

"Oh." The cast is cracked, splintered, most of her injured hand is exposed, it's bruised and swollen looking and there's a new, bloody furrow down the back of it.

"I think it deflected the bullet, you were lucky."

"Ow," she moans as she cradles her hand against her stomach, suddenly feels the sting of the new injury as if it had been lying in wait for her to see and appreciate it. She gradually notices too, that her side aches with burgeoning bruises where Lee presumably slammed into her and knocked her down. "Lucky, huh?" she says with a wry smile. At least she can breathe easily enough so there's no lasting damage done there.

"In a manner of speaking." He looks her up and down one last time, grabs her elbows, "Can you stand?"

"Yeah," she says as she leans on him while he helps her to her feet. "Is everyone else alright?"

"Yes," he replies, "Well, except for Antanov, but he'll live, for now."

She follows his gaze to where her security guards have Antanov handcuffed and down on his knees. His face is puffy, his nose bloodied. The matching stains on the back of Bill's right hand and the cuff of his uniform tell her all she needs to know. She looks around her and notices that while she was out, the room has been cleared, Lee is talking to two of her guards, gestures at Antanov and they grab a hold of him, move him towards the hatch, on their way to the brig she imagines.

As Lee makes his way towards them, she takes a step forward, testing her sea legs. She sways a bit, and both father and son reach out to steady her. Her hand is throbbing, it's making her nauseous and she still feels the after effects of her dream, her vision. She's sure the answers are there, within her grasp, the truth of the Opera House, if she could only hold fast to see it.

"Madam President, are you alright?" Lee asks, concern evident in his voice.

"Yes, thanks to you," she replies as she conjures a smile for him. "Hell of a tackle." She's quite proud of how steady she sounds, underneath though, shock is starting to set in. Somebody shot at her, somebody actually had her in his sights and pulled the trigger, it's unfathomable.

"Sorry about the body slam," Lee says, looking down at his feet while his face reddens.

"Don't apologize, you saved my life, a few bruises are nothing in comparison," she says. "Now do we have any idea who he was? I hadn't seen him before."

"No idea whatsoever," he says as he runs his hand through his hair, "We should have screened more carefully. I didn't think…"

"It's okay," she tells him. "I didn't either." Sometimes, he's so much like his father, blaming himself for everything that goes wrong, even the things that are beyond his control.

"I want a full investigation," Bill interrupts. "And I'm going to have the halls cleared of any non essential personnel, civilians too. This can't happen again."

"People are scared, Bill, disappointed," she says as she touches his shoulder. It's rigid like granite underneath her touch."Something like this was bound to occur. Don't worry, we'll make sure it doesn't happen again, I'm alright, end of story." But she doesn't feel alright, an almost imperceptible tremble is starting to vibrate through her limbs, it feels like her head is stuffed with cotton and the world keeps slipping sideways.

"Not until we get you to Cottle, have that looked after," Bill say as he gestures to where her hand is still cradled against her stomach.

She nods and they make their way to Life Station, her remaining marines taking up position front and back. They're both grim faced, looking deadly serious and she has no doubt they're berating themselves for what happened. She shakes herself, reminds herself that this did not just happen to her, but to them as well, they must feel like they failed her and she makes a mental note to speak to them later, set their minds at ease.

The halls are already less crowded and they make good progress until halfway to Life Station the blare of claxons and the sound of Gaeta's voice stops them. Adrenaline blasts through her, chasing away the lingering wooziness.

"Action stations, actions stations, set condition one throughout the ship, this is not a drill, repeat, action stations, actions stations, set condition one throughout the ship, this is not a drill." Gaeta booms from the speakers. "Admiral Adama to CIC, I repeat, this is not a drill."

Bill has already instinctively turned, his body angling towards CIC. He looks at her, the anguish of indecision plain on his face, torn between duty and concern. She's already one step ahead of him, tugs at his arm for him to follow. He stands stock still, won't budge.

She glances back, frowning. "Let's go," she says, "They need us."

"No," he all but growls. He glances at Lee, who immediately steps up and takes her arm in his.

"You need to go to Life Station first," Lee tells her, looking down at her then looking away at her heated glare.

"It can wait. I need to…"

"You need to go see Cottle," Bill interrupts her. "I can't have you in my CIC, bleeding and in pain. I can't have you distracting me." He looks at her with those impossibly blue eyes. "Please."

It's the please that undoes her. She bows her head in acceptance. "Go," she tells him. "What are you waiting for? I'll be there as soon as I can."

He takes her by surprise when he leans over and presses a quick kiss to the corner of her mouth. The hallway is all but deserted, her guards are facing away from them, she's sure nobody witnessed the too public display of affection between the Admiral of the Fleet and the President of the Colonies but flushes with misplaced guilt anyway. Bill manages to look both grim and pleased with himself at the same time as he speeds away, yelling at Lee over his shoulder to take care of her.

"I will, don't worry," Lee says. For a moment they stand there and watch the Admiral speed down the hallway. When he disappears around a corner they turn back in the direction of Life Station. Lee grins down at her as they start walking again "About time." It's all he says, all they have time for as they hurry on their way, worry dodging their footsteps.

At this point, any one of a hundred things could have caused CIC to call for condition one. With the news of Earth confirmed, it could be riots, ships trying to break away from the fleet, perhaps even an attempt to take over Galactica, suicide runs, anything. She's glad at least that it was Gaeta's voice that came over the speakers, it means that in all probability the rest of the senior staff that Bill had brought up from the surface are at their stations as well. The thought reassures her as she hastens down the hall, trying to match Lee's long strides as best she can.

She's all but gasping for air as they burst into Life Station and needs a moment to compose herself. Bent over, trying to catch her breath, Laura curses the cancer and the treatments and her weakened condition and life in general, just for good measure. Lee stands beside her while one of her guards stations himself outside the hatch and the other takes up position a discreet distance behind her. She hears Cottle approach, straightens as he starts to immediately chew her out.

"What the hell is going on," he all but spits at her, "I thought I told you to go get some rest, not go gallivanting about the ship!"

Lee starts to protest but Laura shushes him with a hand on his arm. The other she holds out to Cottle and the sight of her ruined cast, the bleeding hand underneath shuts him up for once, it's a rare occurrence. He gently takes her forearm in his hand and guides her to an empty bed while yelling at one of his aides to get him the supplies he needs. Her guard moves with them, keeping his distance but not letting her out of his immediate sight and reach

As she sits down on the bed, Cottle looks at her, at Lee down at her hand, "What the frak happened?" he asks as he carefully starts peeling off the plaster. "You weren't content with the damage you'd already done yourself? Or were you missing my company?"

"Long story," she says. "No time."

"Just the bare bones then," he counters. His deft fingers have made short work of the remains of her cast. He grabs a bottle and some swabs and cleans the deep gash on the back of her hand. It stings and burns.

"Someone took a shot at me." She grits her teeth as he starts to manipulate her hand, her fingers, assessing both the new damage, and the state of the earlier injuries, and the dull throb and itch she's been ignoring all day roars to life.

"Wow, you got lucky then." He lights up a cigarette and gets up. "Good thing they didn't make matters worse, beyond that cut. I'll stitch it up and refit the cast. Lie back while I get my gear and I'll get someone to give you a shot of morpha for the pain."

"Chamalla," she says. "I need to stay awake and reasonably coherent, Morpha puts me to sleep."

"And Chamalla gets you high," he grouses, "some choice."

"I can handle it," she says. "And put a temporary splint on. No full cast. I need to get to CIC."

"Hell no! Are you out of your mind, that mess is not gonna heal properly with just a splint."

"If you haven't noticed, we're at condition one, in the middle of the biggest disaster yet. I'm kind of pressed for time."

He throws hp his hands in disgust. "Always the next crisis. Always in such a rush to make it all better for everyone but yourself. You wanna be in pain, fine, but don't say I didn't warn you."

"I'll come back later so you can fit a new cast."

"Damn woman, doesn't know what's good for her." Cottle grumbles as he stalks away, barking orders at his staff.

A nurse hands her some pills and a glass of water and she swallows them gratefully, empties the glass in a few big gulps. She suddenly notices she's not only thirsty but hungry too and tired, so very, very tired. It's already been such a long day and it doesn't look like it's going to end soon. She drifts off, startles awake when she hears Lee sigh. She looks for him and finds him pacing up and down the floor at the foot of her bed, casting furtive glances her way, looking anxious and forlorn.

"Would you stop hovering, please" she tells him. "See if you can get a hold of someone in CIC, find out what's going on."

As he bounds off, she lies back once more, closes her eyes…

… and finds herself back in the Opera House. They stand at the threshold, the five of them. Six still has Laura's hand clutched in her sure grip, she smiles down at her, she is beautiful.

"We have to go in together, Laura," she says, "but only you can see."

They step into the room beyond and find themselves in the auditorium; the stage is directly opposite them. They walk towards it, turn in a slow circle. Across the expanse, on a raised dais, Laura can make out five figures, wreathed in light. She takes a hesitant step forwards, then another. The light is blinding, the five on the dais are resplendent with it.

She takes another step forwards, blinks against the glare. She can almost make them out. Four of the five she can now identify, not by their features but by their posture. Another step brings her closer to the imposing figure in the middle. She blinks again, trying to clear her vision against the blinding light. She blinks and…

… it's Cottle she sees. He's shining a penlight in her eyes, around him, Life Station springs back into focus.

"What?" Her sense of displacement, of loss, is so great that for a moment she has to fight back tears. So close, she was so close.

"I thought you might have passed out again," Cottle grouse. "From what I hear, it would have been the third time today. I've half a mind to keep you here anyway, twice is twice too many as it is."

"But?"

"But you were just asleep, though how you can sleep with all this racket going on is beyond me, and I need the bed." He produces a syringe. "Now hold still." A swift prick and numbness starts to invade her hand. "Local anesthetic, it'll take a minute to kick in."

"How long was I asleep?" she absentmindedly asks. Only now latching on to what he just said about needing the bed, Laura looks around sickbay and finally notices that it's flooded with people, all injured to some degree, there are bloody noses, black eyes, bruised faces. Most of the injured are seated on beds and chairs but there are even a few seated on the floor, for want of space.

"How should I know, I'm not your nursemaid," Cottle mumbles as he calmly disinfects his hands and picks up a suturing needle. "A few minutes, five."

"What happened?" she asks, indicating the chaos surrounding them while he starts to carefully stitch her up.

"Riots. Stupid knuckleheads started fighting amongst themselves." Off her horrified gasp he adds, "No fatalities, nothing major, cuts and bruises mostly. Now hold still." He finishes her stitches and starts putting gauze and bandages over the wound. "Riots and looting, it's the order of the day, today. Would you believe just an hour ago, a bunch of these retards raided my stores? Made off with a whole mess of things they'll have absolutely no use for, Bittamucin, Serisone, and of course the stuff they probably came for, any and every type of narcotic they could get their hands on. Made off with the last of my stash of New Caprica leaf, too. Frakkers. Likely wanting to go out in a psychedelic haze, now that the end of the world is once again upon us."

During his diatribe, Laura's thoughts turn once again to her vision. She needs to know, to see, she was so close. She closes her eyes, concentrates but is brought out of it when Cottle ties off her bandage none too gently. She almost snarls at him as he gets up and moves away. "I'll get you your brace so you can get out of here."

She blinks back tears of frustration when a nurse instantly takes his place beside her bed but quickly gathers herself when she sees the look of unease on the young woman's face.

"Madam President?" The young nurse swallows convulsively.

"Yes?" Laura prods.

"There's this man…" The young woman hesitates and Laura's nerves fray some more.

With everything that's happened today, she doesn't have much left in her to give. She's run the gamut of emotions since this morning, was it only this morning? From overjoyed to sorely disappointed to ecstatic and scared and angry, it's drained her, robbed her of her defenses, she feels she's just about at the end of her tether. Still, she puts everything she has into schooling her face into a patient mask as she gently encourages the nurse. "I'm not going to bite, just tell me what it is."

"I'm not sure if it's okay but I think he was one of Ms. Foster's interns, so…" Again, she hesitates.

"Just tell me what it is."

"A note, Ma'am. He told me to give it to you and only you."

"Thank you," Laura manages as with a sinking feeling in her gut she accepts the note the nurse thrusts at her. It's a bit tricky to unfold one handed but she has to when Cottle sits back down beside her and starts strapping on the brace. The message is short and to the point, the implications take her breath away.

Hangar deck,

Be there in ten minutes

Come alone or the child dies

She feels al the blood drain from her face, sways and for a moment, she fears she might faint. It's not difficult to guess who the child is. Cottle looks at her in concern as she takes a deep breath, trying to regain her equilibrium.

"Laura? What's going on? Cottle barks just as Lee returns, his face deadly pale.

"Lee?" His dazed look scares her, what else could possibly go wrong to have him so rattled? "Lee, tell me what's wrong?"

His answer makes her gasp. The note flutters to the bed as her hand goes up to her mouth to mask her shock.

"Cylon raiders," Lee says. "Scouting party. Cavil and the rest of them, they found us."