Bill barges into CIC and to his relief finds Gaeta and Dualla both at their stations, Helo is at the command station, Saul is there too, looking vaguely uncomfortable, standing a little way back, perhaps unsure of his place. While he hurried down here, thoughts of Laura had haunted his footsteps. How he had almost lost her again, just when they had finally, truly, found each other. How pale and still she had seemed, almost buried under Lee's bulk. How alive she had looked, writhing on top of him hours before, how she had giggled when they'd finally gotten to the head and he'd soaped her up, how she'd stilled when he'd knelt down before her to worship her anew. Her throaty moans as he'd pleasured her, her languid caresses afterwards.
He forcefully has to bury those thoughts down deep, has to leave them behind as he gears up for battle. It almost feels like a betrayal, as if by leaving thoughts of her behind, he's leaving her behind as well. It's a strange sort of comfort to think that along with her, he's leaving behind a large part of himself too, that part of him that belongs to her now.
"Sitrep," he barks as he slips into Admiral mode. Helo casts a glance at Saul and then steps up.
"Cylon raiders, Sir," he reports, "Two of them jumped in and out of our airspace five minutes ago. We've already been in contact with the Rebel Base ship; they've confirmed the raiders belong to what remains of the Cylon fleet."
"How many Basestars do they have left, do the Rebels know?"
"They're not sure, Sir. They guesstimate anywhere between six to eight, maybe more." Eight Basestars against one beat up Battlestar and an equally beat up Basestar, he doesn't like those odds.
"How long until they're on top of us?"
"No way to gauge," Helo shrugs. "Any moment now." The muscles in his jaw clench and unclench. Bill remembers he didn't request for Sharon to be brought back up. The young man's wife is down on the surface and he's stuck up here, Bill can relate.
"Alright, I want the CAP trebled."
"Already done, Sir. Starbuck is out there spearheading them."
"Good. Now let's get our people off the surface," he orders, "and have the Raptors recalled from their scouting runs, asap."
"Aye, sir." Helo nods with a barely suppressed look of relief and goes to work. Bill looks after him for a moment, sweeps his gaze across CIC. They're all at their posts, all diligently acquitting themselves of their various tasks, even though their disappointment at what they found down below is still so fresh. They make him proud.
When his gaze comes to rest on Saul, his first instinct is to look away, but Lee has told him how Saul stepped up and offered himself in exchange for the hostages on the Rebel Base star, in essence offered himself up for Laura, and he can't back away from that. He can't back away from a lifetime of shared memories either, so instead he nods and steps a bit closer.
"Any insights?"
Saul nods back stiffly "Not a frakking one." He says, running his hand over his bald pate.
"Pity, I could have used some pointers right about now, would have made for a nice bonus to balance out this new heritage of yours." He smiles a tight smile to take the sting out of his words and watches his old friend relax his stance a bit.
"Bill," Saul murmurs, "I'm sorry, I had no idea."
He holds up his hand to ward off further apologies. "You had no choice in the matter either, except the one you made when you gave yourself up to save our people. I trusted Sharon, I'm going to continue trusting you."
"I won't betray that trust, not if I can help it."
The caveat is what worries Bill. It was always there with Sharon too, the chance that his trust would turn out to be misplaced in the face of Cylon programming, but Sharon has proven herself faithful time and again. Then again, Saul is a different breed of Cylon, one of the Final Five, an unknown variable in a frakked up equation. Still, even though Bill still feels betrayed and heartsick, he knows Saul would never have chosen this fate for himself, would never have willingly chosen to be the thing he has fought against his entire life.
So he tells him the only thing he can tell him. "I know, old friend." His heart crimps in his chest at the look of relief on Saul's face. He turns on his heels. "Gaeta, tell the fleet to stand by for emergency jump coordinates. Dee, get me a line to the Rebel Base ship."
While he's waiting for the call to be put through, Saul leans a little closer. "How's Roslin?" he asks with genuine concern. "We heard what happened, frakking ingrates."
The mention of Laura brings the fear gnawing at his guts back into focus. It's strange standing here in the middle of CIC trying to divert the latest crisis without her by his side. "She's okay. Lee is taking her to see Cottle; the bullet cracked her cast, minor damage only, fortunately."
"That woman has the luck of the Gods." Saul drawls, something like admiration coloring his voice.
"Yeah well." He emits a short bark of laughter. "I'm sure she doesn't see it that way at this particular juncture."
He flashes back to the sight of her blood, staining her skin, a forceful reminder of her mortality. The thought sobers him quickly. She might still die this day, they might all die, and if they don't, here's still her cancer, if they survive today, there's still Earth and all that entails. The Quorum and the press may have been placated, but there's still a whole fleet full of distressed and angry people out there, all itching to place the blame for their disappointment at somebody's feet. And who better to blame than the woman who'd carried them all along on the strength of her convictions, who'd made Earth real by the sheer force of her will alone, who'd dragged them all down here, in some cases kicking and screaming. Who better to blame for the loss of hope, than the person who gave it to them in the first place?
"Sir, I have the Baseship on line for you." Dee looks tired and worried and he suddenly feels the difficulties of today press in on him, a physical weight settling on his shoulders.
He picks up the horn shakes himself out of it. "Galactica actual here."
"Six," comes the succinct reply. "Go."
He decides to take a chance, give their fragile alliance the same courtesy he did Saul "We're distributing Emergency Jump Coordinates throughout the fleet. I'm about to take a leap of faith here. I need to know if this truce is going to stick with Cavil breathing down our necks."
"You already know our answer to that." The Six sounds tense, her voice is fraught with anger but smoothes out as she continues. "Our allegiance is with The Five. Three remain loyal to you, one is still unaccounted for but evidently he or she is in the fleet as well, so we side with you."
"Good." He nods, though she can't see it. "Stand by to receive Emergency Jump Coordinates then." He gestures to Gaeta to transmit the coordinates and the young man looks troubled but obeys his command without comment.
"Are we going to run?" The Six asks, sounding genuinely curious and a little disdainful.
"Not unless we have to," he replies and because they need any edge they can get, he decides to push things a little further. "Any insights on how we beat them back are more than welcome."
"Working on it," she says, "it all depends on how many ships he still has at his disposal. Meanwhile stand by to receive detailed schematics of our Basestars; maybe your people can use them to tactical advantage."
He smiles in relief, his gambit paid off. "Appreciated. Galactica actual out."
Dee shuts down the comm. link, looks at him apprehensively. "What is it?" he snaps.
"We're unable to reach the ground team, Sir," she reports. "They're not responding to our hails."
"Radioactive interference?" Maybe they moved into a more heavily irradiated area, he thinks, even as worry starts to eat away at him.
"No, they're just not picking up."
It strikes him for the first time that, apart from the marines and techs that accompanied them down, the entire ground crew now consists of Cylons. Sharon, Galen, Sam Anders, Caprica Six, Leoben, D'Anna and her squadron of Centurions. And Baltar of course, though for all they know, he's a Cylon himself. The thought does nothing to comfort him, they're still his responsibility, his alliance to uphold, his people to rescue.
"Alright, keep trying. Are the Raptors back yet?"
"First ones are setting down as we speak, Sir. We'll have them all back in about five minutes."
"Divert two to the surface, tell them to bring up the ground crew, asap," he says and turns towards Gaeta. "What about those schematics?" He steps up to Gaeta's console, frowns down at the maps scrolling along his board. The young man still looks grey around the edges, there's a sheen of sweat on his face. He's clearly still in a considerable amount of pain and moving around his station with only one leg is obviously draining, but he seems as determined as the rest of the crew to do his job.
"Working on it, Sir," he reports. "I need to make some calculations, but I think that if we hit them here, here and here," he points towards three areas along the ships dorsal area, "we can take them out, they'll lose structural integrity, go into an uncontrollable spin."
"As soon as you're done with your calculations, give the info to Starbuck, good work." He pats the young man on the shoulder. "Did you have a chance to look at those computers and disks you brought up with you?"
"I had them set up in the Ward Room, Sir, under maximum security. Two of my techs are working on them but I have no idea if they'll be able to salvage anything off of them. The books we brought up are a bust, mostly, they're illegible with age. We caught a few mentions of the thirteenth tribe, Cylons, a conflict, nothing that makes any sense."
"Keep at it, the President will join us shortly, maybe she can make sense of it, she's done so before."
"Yes, Sir."
"Admiral, Sir." It's Dee, she sounds urgent. "I have a call for you from Doc. Cottle."
"Put him through." With a sinking feeling in his gut, Bill picks up the phone
"Admiral, we have a situation down here," Cottle says without preamble. With an urgent wave of his hand, Bill motions for Saul to pick up the other extension.
"The President, is she okay?"
"How the hell should I know?" Cottle sounds even more exasperated with his wayward patient than usual, but underneath, Bill can detect the same worry that's eating away at his own gut. The good doctor after all carries a torch for Laura nearly big enough to rival his own. "The blasted woman ran off with Lee in tow just now."
"Where to?"
"Hangar Deck."
"What?" His breath leaves him, what the hell would she be doing down there?
"Someone handed her a note, it says, wait," He hears the rustling of paper and then Cottle's voice comes back. "It reads, Hangar Deck. Be there in ten minutes. Come alone or the child dies."
"Frak!" It doesn't take a genius to figure out who the child is and Bill curses Laura for her lack of survival instinct even as he knows that, being Laura Roslin, there's nothing else she could have done, no other choice she could have made. With the child - any child, but this child in particular - in danger, there would be absolutely no option for Laura other than to try and save her, even if it means putting herself at risk. At least she apparently allowed Lee to come with her, he finds some small relief in that. "How much of a head start do they have?"
"Two minutes."
"Right." He hangs up, makes for the hatch. "Saul, you have the con."
Before he reaches the hatch, he feels Saul's hand clamping down on his shoulder. "Bill, you can't leave right in the middle…"
He whirls around, almost punches him in red raged fury. "Saul, I don't give a flying frak! She's in trouble."
"Bill, pull yourself together. What would she want you to do?" Saul shakes him even as Bill tries to pull away from him with all the desperation of a drowning man. "Think! What would Laura Roslin want you to do?"
"I can't lose her." It's all he can think about, Laura's in danger, you have to save her, Laura's in trouble, go to her.
"You have to trust her, Bill." Saul is practically shouting at him. "You have to trust that she knows what she's doing, that she's doing what's right, for you, for me, for all of us. Damned woman always has."
As the truth of Saul's words penetrates and the red haze fades, the proximity alarms start to blare.
"Cylon Basestars, Sir, six of them." Gaeta shouts.
"Launch the alert fighters." Bill spins on his heels, spits words with the staccato precision of machine gun fire. "Helo! Get down to the hangar bay, Saul, go with him, fill him in, don't do anything stupid, just get them both back, safely. Take a headset, keep me posted."
Helo turns on his heels with a puzzled glance at Saul, who hurries after him. For a moment he questions the wisdom of sending Helo on a mission to save his own daughter and the woman he hates more than anything, but then he knows the young man is honorable, a good soldier, and will do everything within his power to both save his child and preserve the life of his President. And if it comes down to a choice between the two? Well, that's where Saul comes in. Saul would not hesitate. If given a choice, he would do anything, sacrifice Hera and Helo, even sacrifice himself, to keep Laura safe, if only to prove his fealty to humanity. What Bill wants most of all is to go with them, retrieve Laura himself but he can't leave his post now, Saul is right. His duty to the fleet outweighs his personal concerns. He knows Laura would agree, in fact, she would probably airlock his ass for dereliction of duty if he were to come after her while they're under siege.
"Do we jump, Sir?" Gaeta asks.
"Not yet, get me a line..."
Dee interrupts him. "Sir, one of the enemy Basestars is hailing us," she says.
"Put them through." He picks up the handset, almost physically feels the part of him that is the Admiral move once more to the forefront.
"Admiral." It's Cavil, and he hadn't expected otherwise. The Cylon's voice is sickly sweet, the threat underneath blatant. "We meet again."
"What do you want?" Bill snarls. Of all the different Cylon models, he dislikes and mistrusts this one the most. The pious exterior, the snake hidden underneath, fill him with revulsion.
"Same thing you do, Admiral, to claim Earth as our new home."
Bill cannot contain a short bark of laughter at that, nor suppress the thought of how Laura would have reacted with a smirk and a raised eyebrow. Please be okay, Laura, he pleads, please don't do anything foolish, please be safe. He pleads with her, even as he listens for a reaction from Cavil. The silence on the other end tells him his unexpected response has Cavil rattled.
Finally, Cavil speaks again, more cautiously this time. "Give us Earth. Leave, now, and you will escape unharmed."
"In that case I suggest you first go down and take a look around, see for yourself what you're claiming and then maybe we'll talk," he says, determining there and then that even if Earth is a blasted wasteland, there will be no more running, this is where they make their stand. Besides, there's still a team on the ground that needs to be retrieved, there's still Laura's whispered words, I don't know what it all means, yet, but I saw something, realized something, there's something here, it just needs to come clear she'd said and he's learned to listen to those hunches of hers. If there's something to find, some glimmer of hope in the midst of devastation, she'll find it, but not if he just blithely hands over Earth to Cavils faction. Then, there's the alliance with the Rebel Cylons to consider, too, this is not the time to make unilateral decisions.
"Hold on," Cavil says. "I will confer with my brothers; we'll come back to you shortly. No fancy moves in the meantime, Admiral, keep those Vipers of yours on a leash, or we blast you all out of the sky."
"Understood." Bill acknowledges and nods for Dee to cut communications. "Any word from the ground yet?"
"No, Sir."
"Get me Helo or Saul. I need to know what's going on."
As she puts him through, Bill sends up a fervent prayer to her Gods, the ones she's believed in so passionately throughout their journey, the ones he's so frequently renounced for burdening her with a destiny that no one should have to face.
The sound of gunfire when the connection is established makes his heart drop to the pit of his stomach. He clutches the horn convulsively. People are shouting, he can hear Saul's voice, barking at someone to get Cottle.
"Saul!" His shout thunders around CIC and he can feel the eyes of his crew on him, can see their shocked faces, hear their urgent, frightened whispers but all he can focus on is Saul's voice.
"Bill, we need a medivac down here. Helo and Lee are down."
"Saul!" he barks, his knuckles white with strain around the horn. Lee and Helo, he cannot bear to lose either one, but they're surely alive or Saul wouldn't be asking for medical assistance. It's as far as he gets, before his one overriding fear outstrips all other concerns. "What about the President? Is she okay?"
"She's gone, Bill." Saul sounds horrified. "I'm sorry. She's gone."