Chapter 6

Laura Roslin winced as the ball hit the wall about five feet away from where she wanted it to go. She had seen some of the Resistance members playing Pyramaid, and she was attempting to play herself. Unfortunately, she seemed to lack the necessary skills.

Athletics had never been Laura's strong suit. Still, she had nothing else to do. She and Tom had both been confined to the underground for their own safety. But at this point, the crushing boredom of the place was nearly driving her insane.

Sighing, she picked up the ball and threw it again. Predictably, she missed. Laura groaned in frustration and sat on the floor, taking out her journal.

She wasn't supposed to be down here. She was supposed to be above ground, fighting against the Cylons. She couldn't fight with guns, but she could fight with intellect. Laura had been given several warnings about teaching the children anti-Cylon ideas, but she had ignored them. She had told the children about life back on the Colonies, about a world where people lived without fear of the Cylons. The older ones could remember, but the younger ones could not. She couldn't blame them for forgetting. Even to her, life on the Colonies seemed like a dream: lovely and comforting, but distant and vague.

"Laura."

She looked up to see Tom standing in the doorway. For a moment she felt bad for him; he must feel as claustrophobic as her.

She smiled warmly, closing the journal. "Hello, Tom."

He stepped into the room, his eyes scanning the place.

"We're the only ones left," he said. "Except for her." His head jerked backwards towards Sarah's corner of the room.

"How is she?" Laura asked, keeping her expression carefully neutral.

Tom shrugged.

"She's fine," he said.

Laura watched as he shifted his weight to one foot.

"I really think you should talk to her. After all, you did save her life. She would appreciate it."

Laura laughed. "Have you appointed yourself her spokesperson?"

Tom turned a faint shade of pink, but folded his arms and stared at her. Laura smirked inwardly. So he had a thing for the Cylon woman. Well, so did everyone else.

"You know my position on this Tom," she said coolly. "It's improper. She may have saved us, but she's a Cylon. These are the people who destroyed our homes and killed our families, remember?"

"I never had a family," Tom mumbled.

Laura sighed. For a revolutionary, he had very delicate feelings. Now was not the time for his middle-aged crisis. Still, if there was one thing Laura had learned in politics, it was how to deal with difficult people.

"Tom," she said soothingly. "I know that you feel in debt to her, but you owe her nothing. She may have saved our lives, but we repaid the favor. "

Tom shook his head. "You don't understand, Laura," he said.

Laura rolled her eyes in exasperation. "I understand perfectly well, Tom. Do you think I don't notice the way you're always hovering over her? And for that matter, do you think that the others don't notice? You're making a fool of yourself!"

Tom opened his mouth to respond, but he was cut off.

"You know, you don't have to talk about me like I'm not here," came a voice from the corner of the room.

Tom glared at Laura and hurried over to Sarah. Laura watched as he pulled the curtains aside and sat down in the side of her bed, murmuring soft words she couldn't hear.

Laura could only see his shadow through the curtains, but the display was making her physically ill. Tom was an image-conscious man, and he usually had good sense in how he presented himself to people. Laura could not fathom why he thought publicly cavorting with a Cylon would be good for his image.

There was a loud slam from the other side of the shelter, signaling that someone was home. Laura wondered for a moment if it was the Cylons, come to capture their rebellious sister.

Fortunately, the man that appeared in the doorway was not a Cavil. Although, thought Laura, it was the next-worst thing. It was Colonel Tigh, probably come to berate her about the dangers of harboring a Cylon.

He leaned on his walking stick, his eyes swerving around the room before landing on Laura. His gaze lingered on Sarah and Tom for a moment, and he murmured something about frakking toasters under his breath. Laura raised an eyebrow.

"Colonel Tigh," she said sternly. "Must I remind you that you are in the presence of the former president of the colonies and the current vice president? Not to mention a woman still recovering from grievous wounds."

The Colonel glared and stalked towards her.

"Lady, save the schoolteacher crap. You're president of absolutely nothing, and Mr. Revolutionary over there hasn't done anything in the last week except take care of his Cylon girlfriend."

Swearing, he limped over to the table and picked up a bottle of booze. He took a long swig, and then slammed it down forcefully. Above him, one of the lights sputtered.

Laura watched as Tigh cursed the lights and the table to hell and then sat down heavily, dropping his walking stick to the floor. He looked up at her, and suddenly he looked more tired than angry.

"Sit, Roslin," he said. "Let's talk strategy."

Laura sat down beside him obligingly, and helped him pick up the map. He raised a bruised finger and prodded a spot.

"Here," he said. "This is where we're going to plant the bombs." He looked at her challengingly, as if daring her to protest.

Laura sighed. "Colonel, you know we can't do that. There are too many civilians."

Tigh slammed his fist on the table. "Frak the civilians. It's time to get rid of these Cylon motherfrakkers once and for all."

"No," she said firmly.

Tigh snorted. "I should have known. You're weak, and you always have been. But I thought your recent incarceration would have shown you what the Cylons are capable of if we don't install some fear into their hard drives."

He picked up the bottle and took another swig. As he set it down, he broke into a coughing fit. Laura stared at the table until his coughs subsided. There was silence for a moment. Then Tigh began to laugh, harsh guttural sounds that made him cough again. He spat on the table, and Laura grimaced.

"You know, I don't give a damn what you think anyway," he said, while reaching for the bottle again. "You may have had Bill wrapped around your finger on Galactica, but those days are over. I didn't like following your orders then, and I sure as hell don't want to follow them now. Except now I don't have to."

Laura watched him with narrowed eyes. She shuddered to think what would happen to the Resistance without her. There would be no one to keep Tigh in check. They needed her, just as Bill had needed her before.

She looked him in the eyes.

"Colonel Tigh," she said clearly," You know very well that you need me in order to guarantee the support of the people. And I need you for the support of your military. So perhaps we can come to an agreement."

Laura expected him to put up a fight, but he did nothing of the sort. He smirked lightly, and leaned forward. For a moment, Laura wondered if she had played into his hands.

"Fine, Madame President," he said. "I'll allow you to have significant input in regard to tactical decisions. But you have to give me something in return."

Laura felt a sense of foreboding, but she knew she had to go through with what he asked.

"I need you to get rid of it," he said loudly, and pointed towards Tom and Sarah. They had been involved in their own conversation, but at his voice, Tom poked his head out of the curtain.

"Excuse me?" he asked incredulously.

Tigh grinned maliciously. "You heard me. Blondie has to go. I won't harbor a Cylon in our midst."

Laura could feel the tension in the room rising, and quickly interjected.

"Colonel Tigh-"

Tom interrupted her, stepping forward.

"You can't do this," he said. "If she leaves this place, they'll kill her. You know that."

Tigh shrugged. "If she stays, I'll kill her myself. Or someone else will. You can't protect her forever, you know."

"That is quite enough, gentleman," said Laura. "I'm sure that we can find a solution to this that will work for us all-"

"I know what to do."

Laura turned to the source of the voice, and saw that Sarah had gotten out of bed. She looked pale and weak, but she was standing on her own. Tom moved as if to help her, but she raised a hand.

"No," she said calmly. "I'm fine."

Tigh looked confrontational, but he kept silent as she spoke.

"I understand your concerns," she said. "If I stay down here any longer, they will find me. I have no wish to put any of you in danger."

Tom bit his lip and stared at the floor. For a moment, Laura wondered if he really had feelings for Sarah.

"That being said," Sarah continued, "I think I can be useful to you. I need another week or two to heal, but after that, I'll be fit to work."

Tigh laughed. "You have nothing to offer us, Cylon. Now shut the hell up before I-"

"Be quiet, Colonel," Laura snapped.

Tigh turned to look at her, but she ignored him, focusing on Sarah instead.

"What exactly can you offer us?" Laura asked.

Sarah responded quickly, almost eagerly. "The Centurions are not able to distinguish between our models. That means that I can sneak into almost any building or establishment. That kind of access could be invaluable to your cause."

Tom looked at Laura and Tigh hopefully. "She has a point, doesn't she?"

Laura nodded. "Yes, she does. What do you think, Colonel?" she asked pointedly.

Tigh drummed his fingers on the table. "That's all fine and good, but she's a Cylon." He glared at Sarah and addressed his next question to her directly.

"How do we know you won't betray us?"

Sarah met his gaze coolly. "Because I hate my people almost as much as you do. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm a bit tired."

Tom jumped to help her as she retreated, and this time she didn't resist. She leaned on him heavily as she climbed back into the bed. Laura watched them, and then turned to Tigh.

"I really think you should consider it."

Tigh grimaced. "I will. But she's going to have to prove herself first."

Laura raised an eyebrow. "What do you have in mind?"

Tigh smiled genuinely for the first time."

"A little test. One involving Gaius Baltar."