As they reach the hangar deck, Laura stops, pulls Lee closer. She pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose with her splinted hand and stares at him, hard, taking in his earnest face, the resolved set of his jaw.

"I need to go in alone. Stay here," she tells him. Over his protests, she glances at her guards, loyal to a fault, they've followed her here against her express wishes. "You two, stay here as well."

"No can do, Ma'am."

"You can if I order you to," she says, clenching her one good fist by her side to keep from shouting. "I will not have this child endangered. They said come alone, and I will."

"Madam President, you can't be serious," Lee argues, catching a hold of her arm. "What if they kill you, right there? What if they just shoot you down? Somebody already tried once today."

"Why go to the trouble of grabbing Hera, if what they want is simply to kill me?" she says, doing her best to sound reasonable, to not let her impatience bleed through. "It's not as if there hasn't been ample opportunity for that. All the security measures we dream up won't stop one man with a gun and a desire to exact retribution, the events of the day made that abundantly clear, if nothing else."

Lee flinches, lets go of her arm, but he doesn't back down, doesn't give in. He makes her proud. "I still can't let you go in there alone, it's too dangerous and besides, my father would never forgive me." He gives her a wry smile which she reciprocates before subjecting him to the full force of her unfettered glare, her schoolmarm glower, the one she's perfected staring down unruly quorum members these past few years.

"You can and you will," she says as her clenched fist beats a tattoo against her thigh. "This is not a negotiation. I'm going in there, by myself, end of story."

"Madam President…" Her guards speak simultaneously. She glares at them but they just look straight ahead, stone faced, their fierce dedication paradoxically stopping them from obeying her wishes.

"You stay here, all of you, end of discussion," she says. She's getting exasperated, there's no time for this. "If you don't, I can find myself a new security team, do I make myself clear? One that will respect my wishes!" She hates how harsh her voice sounds, how callous she can be when the situation demands it, hates most of all that she has to do this to these men who've so faithfully been by her side all this time.

They stand taller, their faces wearing identical, grim expressions. "Fire us if you must, but you should know, that even if you do, we're not leaving your side."

She almost falters at that, but her fear for Hera's safety outstrips any other concerns. "Please, Bryn, Jarez. Your job is to take care of me so I can do what I have to do, so I can do my job. I know you think you failed me earlier today, but you never have." She looks at them earnestly, each in turn. "You never have," she repeats, "but you will, if you keep me from doing what I have to do here, today. I'm begging you to back down, please."

Her guards exchange a glance, communicate without words, then Jarez relaxes his posture infinitesimally and Bryn looks down at her with a faint, half smile. Somehow, it does nothing to alleviate the stiff set of his mouth but there's a flicker of understanding in his eyes, and she thinks she can even detect a glimmer of pride. "Five minutes," he says. "If you're not back her in five minutes, we're coming after you."

"Thank you." She grabs his hand, squeezes it, flashes Jarez a grateful smile.

When she starts to move towards the Hangar Deck, Lee follows her. She glances at Bryn and Jarez and they nod at her, bar Lee's way. Her heart tears in her chest when she sees the desperation on his face. Wanting to give him something to ease his pain, Laura approaches him, ghosts her fingers over his tight jaw for a moment. "You have to stay," she tells him. "If something happens to me, you have to step up, Lee. I only wish I could have given you more. I wish…"

His face twists, grief etches itself around the edge of his mouth, settles in the corners of his eyes and makes the muscles in his jaw bunch. He looks defeated for a moment but then shakes his head in fierce denial and makes a grab for her. Lightning quick, her guards put him in a headlock. Having decided on their course of action, they're now wholly committed to allowing things to play out according to her wishes and she once again counts herself lucky for their steadfast presence by her side.

With a last glance at the three men, Laura resolutely turns and heads out onto the Hangar Deck. It's in chaos, Raptors are lowering down to the deck, Vipers are being pushed into launch tubes, deck hands mill about. The pandemonium on the deck overwhelms her for a moment but then it resolves itself into recognizable patterns; organized chaos, then. She cautiously moves a few steps forward and spots Hera, across the cavernous space, beside one of the hydraulic platforms where a Raptor sits, waiting for her as if it's just another day, just another shuttle ride from the Galactica to Colonial One like so many times before.

Hera waves at her, she looks unharmed and not all that scared besides and Laura feels inordinately grateful for that small mercy, the child has been through enough already. In the chaos, it seems no one has noticed the incongruity of a little girl being down here during a time of crisis. A young man, inconspicuous in an orange jumpsuit designating him as one of the deck crew, holds fast to Hera's shoulder, beckons Laura closer.

"Over here," he says. He looks around suspiciously before his eyes land on her again, there's a strange light in them she can't quite place. Mostly, he just looks cold and aloof, as if what is happening here has nothing to do with him, but there's something expectant in his stance, something coiled and waiting; hungry. "You come alone?"

"Yes," she says and walks towards them, her eyes on Hera. The child is standing stock still, her eyes riveted on Laura. "Hi, sweetie," Laura greets her. "Are you okay?"

Hera nods solemnly, holds her hand out to Laura. She grabs the tiny fingers with her good hand and when the man lets her go Hera throws her free arm around Laura's legs and clutches her in a tight grip. More scared than she looked then. Laura bends down, hugs her back and ruffles her hair for a moment, feeling such tenderness towards the child. They'd spent quite a bit of time together on New Caprica, and she hasn't seen much of her since, her parents having been understandably reluctant to let Laura near her. She was, after all, the woman who took their child from them, with the best of intentions, but still.

Straightening up, he puts her hand on the girl's chubby shoulder, turns towards their captor and finds herself staring down the barrel of a gun for the second time that day. He keeps his body between the gun and the rest of the Hanger Deck, they're half obscured by the craft they're standing next to anyway and the deck crew is so intent on their duties that they don't notice anything's amiss.

From out of the corner of her eye, Laura sees faces peeking out at them from inside the Raptor. She recognizes some of them, Caleb, one of Tory's young interns; he must have been the one to deliver the note to the nurse in sickbay, Jane something, a woman she's seen around CIC half a dozen times. The pilot in the cockpit looks vaguely familiar but she doesn't know his name, nor does she recognize the man currently holding a gun at her or the two just inside the Raptor's hatch, armed with what she thinks are submachine guns. The thought that all these people banded together and abducted Hera just so they could get to her, leaves her with a queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"Get in," the man with the gun in her face tells her.

"Please, we don't have to do this, Mr…?"

"Cranach. Now shut the frak up and get in the Raptor!" he snarls at her. His sudden outburst unnerves her, it twists his carefully blank face into an ugly sneer as he motions with his gun for them to get up the ladder and into the spacecraft.

Laura shakes her head, steps around Hera so she's between Hera and the men threatening them. "Not before you let the child go, you got what you wanted; I'll come quietly as soon as she's safe."

"What makes you think we're only after you? Always so full of yourself, aren't you, Madam President?" He steps up to her, shoves the gun into her ribcage. "Now get in."

Wincing and cursing herself, Laura backpedals, tries to wrap her head around the new information. She can't quite believe she's so badly misjudged things, thinking she could swap herself for Hera and then talk her way out of the situation once the child was safe. Obviously, these people have a different plan that involves both of them, not just Laura herself, which puts a whole new spin on things. Her only hope now is that Bryn and Jarez will be able to extract them both but in order for them to do that, she needs to buy some time. If they get in the Raptor, it's over. "I don't know what you have in mind," she tells their captor, trying to engage him, "but whatever it is, you have to know she can't help you, she's an innocent in all of this."

"Nobody's innocent!" He jams the gun harder into her ribs, simultaneously grabs a hold of her bad hand, twists it and the pain of it makes her knees buckle. Tears threaten to spill from her eyes as she sucks in a breath, trying to suppress a moan. Hera instantly clutches her tighter and she can vaguely hear the child call her by the half garbled pet name she used when they were down on New Caprica. "Lau-la? Lau-la hurt?"

She pats the child, trying to soothe her, meanwhile beseeching their captor. "Please, don't do this, she's just a child." She's not above pleading if it will get them out of this situation, she'll think of creative ways to airlock the lot of them when they're safe.

"I'm not telling you again," Cranach threatens, letting up on the pressure on her ribs and aiming his gun at Hera instead, "get in!"

He impels Laura back, releasing her hand with a vicious push and she stumbles a few steps backwards, Hera clinging to her like a barnacle. Seeing no choice but to obey his command, Laura raises one hand in a gesture of surrender, ushers Hera towards the Raptor, when a voice rings out across the deck.

"Stop right there!" It's Helo, striding towards them, gun drawn and pointing at Cranach's head. Saul and Lee are with him, both bearing arms as well. She spots Bryn and Jarez up on the gangway circling the hangar deck. "Lower your weapons and let them go!" Helo commands, his face is a mask of righteous fury.

Laura instinctively takes a step sideways, out of the line of immediate fire, taking Hera with her, shielding her from the various guns pointed at them as best she can. She sees a flicker of gratitude in the young man's eyes, a touch of acknowledgement, right before all hell breaks loose.

Apparently, their presence on the deck has finally drawn the attention of the deck crew. Tyrol's replacement, Chief Laird, comes striding towards them, yelling at them. "What the frak are you doing on my deck?" He approaches at an angle, can't see all the guns pointing every which way, is too startled when he rounds the Raptor and finds himself in the presence of the President of the Twelve Colonies to notice much else besides.

"Madam President? Apologies, I hadn't noticed…" It's as far as he gets, his sudden appearance amidst their tense standoff brings an already volatile situation to a head. Laura can't make out where the first shot comes from but all of a sudden guns are blazing. The chief's head explodes in a shower of blood and grey matter and she ducks down, protecting Hera from the sight. Around them, bullets fly, pinging off the Raptor's wings and canopy, but miraculously, none of them hit home.

Seeing her chance in the confusion, Laura drops to the deck with the trembling girl in her arms, intent on sliding under the Raptor and coming out on the other side, the side where people aren't firing guns at them. Her plans are thwarted by a strong hand grabbing her wrist. Cranach twists her arm behind her back, brings her up and propels her up the few steps and onto the Raptor's wing. Laura and Hera stumble towards the open hatch where the two men with the sub machine guns stop firing long enough for them to make it across unharmed.

The gunfire tapers off while they're standing on the wing, utterly exposed, and Laura realizes their would-be rescuers are at a distinct disadvantage; they can't shoot indiscriminately without running the chance of hitting either herself or Hera. Caleb reaches for Hera from inside the open hatch and wrenches her from Laura's grasp. Cranach pushes Laura through the hatch, down to the ground, and immediately, the hatch starts to close. A shudder goes through the Raptor as the landing platform starts raising them to the landing bay. Laura twists herself around to get a last look at the battle raging below through the lowering hatch and wishes she hadn't. Lee and Helo are both down; Saul is scrambling to get them out of the line of fire. As she watches, a burst of gunfire from one of the submachine guns catches Bryn in the chest and he tumbles down from the gangway to the deck below.

When the hatch clangs shut, she experiences a moment of pure terror, it quickens her pulse, steals her breath away. She realizes she's all alone in this now and it's up to her to get Hera and herself out of this mess. Helo and Lee and Bryn are hurt, possibly dead, and that's something she can't bear to think about so she shoves it to the back of her mind. She needs to concentrate on getting them out of this predicament. Think, Laura, she tells herself, buckle up and get a grip, think!

These people want something from her, from them, and they are obviously prepared to go to great lengths to get it. There's some relief in that thought, but terror too. As long as they want something, Hera and herself will probably be reasonably safe, but anyone who attempts to rescue them, attempts to stand in the way of these people, will suffer the consequences, as has just been so pertinently demonstrated. She is not prepared to pay that price, has never put her own life before anyone else's and is not about to start now.

Resolve firmly in place, she draws herself up, casts a look about the cabin. Hera is clutched in Caleb's grip but as soon as their eyes meet, the young girl wrenches herself loose and throws herself at Laura. She catches the child in a tight grip and as Hera's arms wind around her neck, Laura finally finds she can breathe again and an eerie calmness settles over her. Whatever it takes, whatever I have to do, she promises the child, this will end, you will suffer no further harm.

She looks about the cabin and the faces looking back at her carry expressions of anger and outright hatred as she'd expected, but, curiously, there's a fanatical sort of hope there as well, an avid expectation. It's a look she knows only too well from way back when she first took on the mantle of the Dying Leader, a look she's never quite been able to reconcile herself with.

"Please don't do this," she says to no one in particular, looking at all of them in turn, trying to ascertain which one will be most amenable to talk to her. She takes off her glasses, hangs them from the V of her blouse, she knows she looks softer without them, more malleable. "Please tell me what you want and I'll do everything in my power to help you. Just please don't do this."

There's no reply, Jane, the young woman from CIC, shifts uncomfortably in her seat, the two gunmen look at the floor, avoiding her gaze, Caleb looks about to say something but a look from Cranach shuts him up.

The oppressive silence is at last broken by a clanging noise and she can tell they've reached the flight pod from the tremor that goes through the craft as the platform shudders to a stop. When Cranach motions for them to sit down, Laura acquiesces, straps Hera and herself into their respective safety harnesses on autopilot.

"Where are you taking us?" she asks, and he looks like he's about to answer her when the pilot starts cursing. The flight pod's outer doors are closing; someone must have given orders to keep them from leaving she realizes. Bill, probably. The thought of him nearly incapacitates her. He must have heard what happened in the meantime, must be agonizing over Lee, frantic with worry over her safety.

Cranach jumps to his feet, moves to the co-pilot seat. "Go! Just go!" he tells the pilot. He carefully splays his fingers across the back of the seat before him, like a man impervious to doubt. "We can make it!"

The doorway looms larger and larger, the gap between them growing exponentially smaller as they hurtle towards the closing doors at breakneck speed. Laura instinctively ducks her head as the Raptor squeezes between the lowering doors, clears them with an inch to spare, and then they're out amongst the stars.

Out of immediate danger, Jane sighs in relief, turns towards her; there's an eager gleam in her eyes. "Earth, Madame President," she says, addressing her by her title as if it were the most natural thing in the universe for the two of them to be sitting there talking; as if she and her friends haven't just taken the President of the Twelve Colonies of Kobol hostage.

"We're going down to Earth." Caleb joins her, "and you're going to get what you deserve." He looks at her with such a mixture of disgust and rabid anticipation Laura has to close her eyes for a second.

"Shut the frak up, all of you!" Cranach interjects and Laura swivels her face towards the front of the Raptor. Cranach is clearly the one in charge; the others shut up immediately when he tells them, do his bidding. He looks to be more in control of himself than the rest too, despite his earlier outburst. He does have that same fanatical edge, but it's tempered by practicality, so she figures he's the one to talk to. As her gaze travels towards where he's still standing behind the co pilot's seat, she spots something in the Raptor's side view window though, and gasps in shock, curses herself. She's known all along this was going to happen. She should have been prepared for it, should have used the knowledge to her advantage to keep Cranach and his people from taking them off of Galactica. Instead her nerves are frayed from the long, difficult day, she's tired and slow and she just lost what may have been their one chance.

Cranach follows her shocked gaze and curses.

"Frakking Basestars! Quinn, get us out of here, now!"

Laura is glued to her seat as the Raptor makes a turn and four more Basestars come into view. Vipers have formed a crude cordon around the Cylon craft but at least two of the Basestars have a relatively unimpeded shot at their Raptor. As she watches, missiles streak towards them and Vipers move to intercept. Two of the Colonial birds explode as they're hit, the others start diverting missiles, playing decoy, like Lee did so long ago when the worlds first ended, taking them from their path and then blowing them out of the sky left and right. She watches as two, three, four more Vipers go up in flames, thinks she can spot Kara's shiny new bird leading a squadron of Vipers against the projectiles, expertly weaving in and out amongst friend and foe, taking missiles out with practiced ease. But there are too many of them and in a matter of moments three missiles break through the Colonial defenses and come for their lone Raptor with deadly purpose. An audible gasp goes through the Raptor and Laura sends up a prayer to the Gods, as the missiles close in on their location and then the sky darkens and the stars are blotted out when the Galactica ponderously moves into the Cylon's firing solution, shielding them.

Bill, she thinks, oh Gods, Bill. I'm so sorry, all those pilots, all those lives lost. This has to stop, this has got to stop.

Quinn throws their craft around, and they're rocked from side to side as missiles strike the Galactica and the shockwave from the resulting explosions make their Raptor pitch and roll. One of the missiles streaks off the Galactica's hull and explodes right over their position and debris showers down on them, the pitter patter sounding somehow innocuous, like rain on a rooftop.

"Prepare for inter atmosphere jump!" Quinn shouts and Laura looks on in horror as the last of the missiles escapes both the Galactica and her Vipers. It's heading straight for them, growing larger and larger and even as she feels the familiar tug of the jump in the pit of her stomach she prays they make it and then the world folds in on itself and everything disappears.