Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica belongs to Ronald D. Moore and the Sci-Fi channel.
Chapter 12: The way you hold your knife
Kira stood in the command center, watching as Bajoran officers along with Starfleet maintained their stations. She jumped back quickly as the console to her left sparked in a power surge. "Lieutenant Baxter, are the shields holding?" she demanded.
The dark-haired lieutenant to her right glanced over at her. "Shields at 80 percent and dropping, sir."
"Noted," she responded. Then she walked over to a young Trill. "Ensign Rixa, why haven't the ships from Starfleet arrived?"
"Sir, some of they were held up with a diplomatic problem concerning the Ferengi. The rest should be here shortly," the ensign replied.
"What are Galactica and the Colonials doing?" Kira questioned.
"Admiral Adama's fleet is fighting back, sir."
Kira sighed heavily, watching the viewscreen. Lieutenant Baxter suddenly faced her. "Sir, there's a transmission for you. It's from Admiral Adama."
She walked over to the lieutenant and picked up the ear piece. "Put it through."
"Colonel Kira?" a familiar gravelly voice asked.
"Yes, Admiral."
"I have a plan."
"I'm listening."
"I need you to take the prisoner Tory Foster and inject her with the Cylon virus. Then I want you to transport her to the Cylon resurrection ship," the admiral requested.
"Alright Admiral, I'll inform Dr. Bashir," she responded.
Bashir left sickbay with the virus. When he reached the brig the guards let him into Tory's cell. Almost as soon as he applied the hypospray to her neck, she felt the virus take hold of her. Gripping the bench, she glared at him. "Why?"
"The admiral requested it," Bashir answered.
"You're lying. He didn't want this. Unless… he probably found out that I killed Cally, didn't he? Never mind." She glowered at him with hate in her eyes over her fate. "Tell him something for me. Tell him Laura frakking Roslin is better off dead than with him," Tory spat.
Tory was beamed over to the Cylons. As Kira watched from the command center, the resurrection ship's engines failed. Then the baseships ceased all movement. One by one, the ships began to implode. "By the Prophets…" Kira exclaimed quietly. In a matter of minutes, the Cylons were no longer a problem.
Kira headed to sickbay. Bashir looked up as she entered. "What happened with the Cylons?"
"Destroyed. That virus did more damage than I expected," she mentioned.
"At least that's one good thing. I'll tell the admiral," Bashir stated, moving toward the private room.
Kira stopped him. "Wait. He's here?"
"Of course," Bashir responded as he knocked on the door.
Adama opened it and stepped out, followed by Hannah. "What's the status of the battle, Colonel?"
"The Cylon fleet's been destroyed," she relayed.
He raised an eyebrow. "How?"
"I went by your decision to take the Cylon prisoner and inject her with the virus," Kira explained.
Adama stared at her, wide-eyed. "I gave no such order."
Kira looked from him to Bashir. "You called from Galactica."
"He's been here for quite a while," Bashir commented. "He never made any calls."
"You must've spoken to the other admiral," Adama deduced.
Kira rested one hand on her hip while leaning on a table with the other hand. "I thought it was you because I assumed he didn't know about the virus, or the prisoner."
"I told him about it while I was over there before transporting here," the admiral relayed. "What I don't understand is why Laura didn't contact you to verify all this. In order to do what's been done, he needs a presidential approval."
Hannah stepped out from behind him. "Not exactly. With him being the Dying Leader, he's been giving more freedom in certain areas."
He stared at her, wide-eyed. "Are you telling me that she willingly gives him that much power?"
The girl shifted from one foot to the other. "You don't know the whole situation. She made a bad call in one of the earlier battles, before the fleet found Kobol. It ended up costing lives and she's been regretting it ever since. She doesn't want to repeat the mistake, so she lets him have whatever he needs during a battle."
Running a hand through his hair, he sighed. "What did I walk into?"
"You sound better," the girl observed.
"That's because the medication is working," Bashir mentioned.
Hannah looked from Adama to the doctor. "How about I take him back to the quarters we've been moving into? If you don't want people asking too many questions, it would be better if Mom came looking for me in those quarters instead of sickbay."
"That makes sense. Doctor?" Kira stated, turning to Bashir.
"Alright, but if the coughing is worse, bring him back," he told Hannah.
Adama wore the robe again as Hannah led him down a few red-brown corridors. She stopped at a keypad and pushed a button. "Hannah Roslin," she said to it.
The doors swished open and she entered with him following. After the doors closed, he removed his hood. "Mind if I ask why you didn't take your step-father's last name?"
She smirked. "I did. I give the other last name at the door so that if someone follows me or happens to know my first name, they won't be able to fool the door."
Smart kid, Adama thought as he surveyed the area. The quarters were spacious in shades of dark gray. A living room area and small kitchen with a stove, a sink, and a replicator were bookended by a bedroom off to each side of it. Inside both rooms were large gray beds. A basinet sat in the room off to the right. The bathroom was located by the other room. The main room also housed two bookcases, each with a box of books at the bottom. Other boxes were scattered throughout the living area.
"Sorry about the mess. We're still in the middle of moving from Galactica," Hannah explained.
He sat down on the springy gray couch. "Understandable."
"Can I get you something to drink?" the girl offered.
"Coffee please," he replied.
After a few minutes, she handed him a steaming mug of coffee while she held a glass of milk. She sat next to him, her eyes gravitation to the scrap book on the coffee table. She picked it up with her free hand, setting it on her lap. "It's a scrap book about baseball. Jake let me borrow it," she remarked, facing Adama.
He looked over the pictures as she turned the pages. "Tell me about the game."
They were still talking about baseball when Laura entered the room. "Mom, where's Charlotte?" Hannah asked.
"I left her with Kara for the moment. I just stopped by to pick up your father's dress grays. Somehow they ended up in the box for the space station," Laura stated quickly, not looking at Adama.
Bill stood. "How is he?"
Laura stopped and wheeled around to face him. "Dying. He wants to be put in his dress grays after…"
"Would you like to sit down for a minute?" Bill offered.
She shook her head. "I have to be going." Quickly she headed over to the room off to the left. She emerged with the dress uniform draped over her arms. "Do you know what happened with the battle? All we saw from Galactica's CIC was the Cylon fleet suddenly falling apart."
Adama sighed, folding his hands in front of him. "Your admiral ordered that Tory would be released from the brig to be injected with the Cylon virus."
Her eyes widened. "Tory's dead. What Cylon virus are you talking about?"
"He didn't tell you?" Adama asked.
"No," she said simply.
"I brought the Tory from my universe back with me to keep an eye on her, along with a sample from a Cylon virus. The virus was first discovered on a drifting baseship that your admiral told me he blew up. I told your Bill about it," Adama began.
She glared at him over the top of her glasses. "Just where was I when you were having this conversation?"
"I think you had to leave the room to look after the baby. I'm surprised that he didn't tell you," Adama commented.
"You should've told me," she retorted.
He sighed, clearing his throat. "You're right. I just haven't had the chance to."
"You could've told me when we beamed over to the station," she reminded.
"In case you forgot, at that time I was a little busy with a hacking cough," he shot back.
She rolled her eyes. "You left me in the dark, again. You're just as bad as him. I am President of the Twelve Colonies of Kobol and I am tired of being left in the dark!"
"Laura, I didn't mean to…" he did not finish as she dashed out of the quarters.
Hannah waved Bill over to where she sat on the couch, holding a model ship. "Sit."
He joined her, admiring the woodwork of the ship. "That's well-built. Might actually float."
She smirked. "That's because this one hasn't been broken several times. He taught me how to make it. I built most of this one myself after he helped me with the framework."
Bill nodded with approval. "He's taught you well."
"Yep." Hannah looked back at the door, then faced Bill again. "She's not exactly mad at you particularly, you know. She's mad at him for dying. You're just going to get the short end of the stick because you look like him, so she's going to take her anger out on you for a while."
"I'm afraid that doesn't help me much," Bill grumbled.
Hannah sighed. "Give her time."
He raised an eyebrow. "How come you seem to be doing so well with this?"
"Because I know you're two different people. Her problem is that she can't separate the two of you right now, and I think that might be your problem too. Of course, it's not like it's my business that both of you need better communication skills," Hannah remarked.
I'm looking at Roslin pointing out the obvious again. "Some things will take longer to resolve than others."
(My thanks to Mamabella, McGonagallFan, Ceridwyn2, carolann, and max72 for reviewing :D)