Chapter 13: An Interlude

Lee Adama was pacing in his quarters, and it was driving Saul Tigh up the frakin' wall.

"Will you sit the frak down, Apollo?!" He barked. Lee, to his credit, did not jump as he once would have when being yelled at by Galactica's XO. He simply sat in the leather armchair he'd vacated earlier, face cast in stone.

Saul took a quick, quiet breath. The kid looked like his dad when he got that expression on his face. Were it not for the lighter tone of his skin, courtesy of his mother's people, he could be Bill Adama. It reminded him of what he was struggling not to rush the delicate nature of their rescue. The very thought that something could happen to his best friend stole the breath from his lungs. Add his new kindness towards Laura and it added up to one very terrified Colonel.

But it was set, their message received and responded to. He pulled his mind away from his fears and remembered the words that Helo had brought to him with a grin so large it could crush an elephant.

'Message received. Await instruction. Kid waiting'

It had soothed many of the crew when he'd told them in CIC that 'kid' to him mean't the Old Man. The looks the officers faces were ones he'd never forget.

"You do know he's going to figure out you have no intention of surviving," Lee said softly.

Saul growled, "It doesn't matter. He'll be evac'd like the rest of them."

"He'll be pissed."

"He's Bill. No shit," Saul said.

Lee sighed and lent over the maps of the tent city their recon Raptor had taken.

"We need someone to take Colonial One up. Figure we get the Old Man and Laura, the Quorum, and a few media out that way."

"Athena will head there after she secures the codes. She'll make sure the others give the intructions to the people on the ground.

Galactica," he continued," will go alone, hold them, then Pegasus jumps in. You spread jump codes, then get the hell out of there. No bitchin' about it."

Lee looked at him in silence. Saul was surprised to see some concern in the young Commander's eyes.

"No sir, no bitchin,'' Lee said, mimicking Saul's voice. Saul snorted, shaking his head.

"Be thankful you're a commander at the moment, I'd toss you in the brig for being a smartass."

"At this point, I wouldn't mind the days when you could," He said.

"So say we all."

"So say we all."

Saul nodded to the younger officer before turning away and exiting the CO's quarters on Pegasus. He was tired, if he were honest with himself. A week's worth of planning, and subsequent fretting for the what ifs, had robbed him of almost any chance of sleep. He needed to crash, if only for a few hours, to stave off the mounting desire to drink himself stupid one last time, before he had to face the possiblity of Bill, Laura, Ellen, or some awful combination thereof not making it home.

It was times like this, he mused as he made his way down to the deck, that he was thankful for the youth and clearheadedness of Lee Adama. Well, more clearheaded than Saul could ever be. The boy knew his strategy better, having been through training less than ten years prior to the End of the Worlds. Hell, it had been that which had enabled him to think of faking out the Cylon missles when he'd been aboard Colonial One for the first time so long ago. He'd saved himself, as well as several of the people who became the Quorum of Twelve, and Laura with that incredibly risky move. Saul was counting on that same thinking to save their people once more.

He entered the Raptor that was waiting for him. Nodding to one of the pilots—Jarhead? Jugger? Headshot? He'd never get Bill's ability to know everyone by name and callsign—he settled back into the ECO's seat and buckled in. Whatever his name was, he'd been a nugget not too long before, and Saul was taking no chances.

The ride took too long for him. It felt like a funeral march, long and slow, almost at standstill. He smiled wryly. How suitable. If things worked out the way he supposed, he and the small number of volunteers, mostly those who'd lost their entire families long before the attacks, wouldn't make it out. It was the kind of thing he envisioned Bill doing for their people.

Bill. And Laura. And Ellen. His whole world was down on that fraking planet.

Looking out the canopy, he watched as Galactica's side bearing her name grew larger and larger.

"It's about showtime," he whispered,"let's see what you got old girl."