Astral Queen
2 months before the Occupation.

If not for instincts as old as the human race, Laura Roslin may have stayed with Wally Gray's body. Lords of Kobol, hear my prayer. Sweat tricked between her shoulder blades as she tore down a second poorly lit corridor. There was an open hatch at the end and darkness beyond it. Single minded in her determination to locate an exit, she ran clear through the hatch and nearly fell down the stairs beyond. A yelp escaped her lips as, her balance gone, her hands somehow found the adjacent railing and she righted herself. Her heart rammed against the inside of her chest and she propelled herself down the stairs where a seemingly endless row of open cells stood before her. Grant, Lords, thy protection and in protection, strength.

The path between the doors was narrow and she had to sacrifice pace to avoid colliding with them. Part way down the long row, she glanced upwards and noted a raised gantry that overhung the cell bank at its far end.

A man was standing there. He was barely more than a shadow, but she had the sense that his eyes met hers and with that momentary loss of concentration, her shoulder clipped one of the heavy metal doors. It didn't give. The impact twisted her body and she hit the floor hard, her breath slammed from her lungs. Struggling for air, she looked back towards the gantry. The man was gone. Footsteps came from the far end of the cell bank.

Get up. Get up. Adrenaline masked the pain as she used the mesh of the cell door to yank herself up and took off the way she had come. Her breathing was reduced to shallow gasps, her lungs burned and her vision swam from the lack of oxygen. When she reached the stairs, she groped for the railing; her hand overshot it and the bar struck her under the arm. Her momentum rolled her part way over it. Lords, despise not my petition, but in thy clemency hear and answer me.

The image of Wally's twisted body settled in her mind's eye as the pursuing footfalls grew in frequency and volume. I will not die here. She found her balance and took the stairs two at a time, cursing the sluggishness of her aging legs. She lunged for the hatch. There was a yell from behind her and she couldn't resist the urge to look back. It was a mistake. A body collided with hers and they both fell through the hatch. She screamed when weight came down on her back and she twisted and jerked her body in a fruitless attempt to free herself. A dirty hand clamped over her mouth.

"Who's there?" The voice was distant and booming and the body that pressed her down stiffened. "This is a restricted area."

Her captor momentarily distracted, she kicked her boot repeatedly into the bulkhead beside them, the sound echoing loudly down the corridor.

"NCS!" The clamor of boots against the metal deck plating could be heard in the distance. "Show yourselves and you will not be harmed!"

The man pressed his face against her neck and inhaled deeply, his free hand buried in her hair. She thrashed. His weight then lifted and she heard him run back through the hatch. Listening to the sound of his descent on the stairs, she struggled to raise her upper body. Her arms felt like rubber. Footsteps were heavy and becoming louder and, looking towards the open end of the hallway, she saw the flicker of flashlight beams where they played over the ceiling and walls.

Three heavily armed officers turned the corner; they were hardly visible in their black uniforms.

"Don't move!" They ran to where she lay half propped against the bulkhead and watched her over the barrels of their rifles. Instinctively, she put her arms in front of her face. Her hands shook.

"He went –" she began. Several crashes emanated from beyond the open hatch. One officer pointed at the other two and then at the hatch. They took off at a run.

A large figure appeared at the end of the corridor. She caught glimpses of him as he slowly approached, passing under the pale orange lights that were more or less evenly distributed along the corridor. He had wide shoulders that connected to arms whose bulky muscles didn't allow them to hang straight beside his body. His widely spaced eyes and seeming lack of neck were familiar but not comforting. He swung a hand held light and she held up an arm to protect her eyes as the beam settled on her face.

"What's going on?" he said. He knelt in front of her and his fingers probed the rapidly swelling skin of her cheek. He continued to blind her with his flashlight. "What business does a teacher have in a storage facility?"

"I – will you get that out of my face?" she said, batting his hand away. He flicked off the light and for a few seconds a bright blue halo hung in her vision. Her suspicions were confirmed when she could finally see the contours of his face. Jarek Markos.

"He went through there." She pointed at the hatch. Her hand shook slightly and she quickly dropped it back to her side.

"Who?" Markos stood. His next words were interrupted by the crackle of the wireless attached to his hip. His steady glare held her in place as he walked a few steps away. The voice over the wireless was heavy with static and Markos' reply was brief. Hold.

"I don't know." She had managed to stand; her head pounded and she could feel her pulse in her cheek.

Markos took a step towards her and his bulk eclipsed the entire corridor. "Why don't you just tell me what happened?"

"My friend is dead." She held Markos' gaze. Actually saying the words made Wally's death that much more real and the hollow ache that ground at her stomach intensified. When she didn't offer anything further, Markos' face contorted in anger.

"That holier than thou Presidential attitude may have worked with Adama, but it's bullshit." He jabbed the air in front of her with his finger. "You're going to end up in detention for trespassing on this ship, whether or not I drag you there in chains is up to you."

Laura briefly considered a rebuke. Then she remembered the young boy whose father had been murdered. Someone had to tell Peter before it was all over the PA. "All right … that man down there may have murdered Wallace Gray. I was trying to find an exit when I was attacked."

Markos didn't flinch. "Where's the body?" he asked, not a hint of emotion in his voice. She gestured to the corridor behind him and he put a heavy hand to her shoulder. "You'll walk in front."

"You'll stop the Minister of Public Security tough guy routine." Laura stepped back and folded her arms across her chest.

"I've got this." Markos addressed the remaining officer. "Call for additional back up and then join the hunt."

"Yes, sir." There was obvious pleasure in the officer's voice.

"Move!" Markos pushed her forward, but allowed her to shake off his grip. He snapped his flashlight on and lit the corridor ahead of them. Laura took her time.

"It's a boy!" She looked up from her desk to see Wally heading straight for her. His grin was infectious and wide and he carried an open package of chocolate cigars

Markos walked too closely behind her and she could feel the heat of his breath at the base of her neck.

She stood and Wally threw his arms around her, stifling her congratulatory words into his shoulder.

The air in the corridor was cold enough that her breath rose in a thin mist in front of her, yet her shirt was soaked with sweat and she felt beads of perspiration form on her upper lip. Every muscle in her body ached.

He offered her a cigar; it was wrapped in shiny blue paper. "I would have brought the real thing, but Rich would have blamed the smoke for the state of his campaign."

They walked in silence and Laura slowed more and more as they approached the room where Wally lay. The same sickly scent invaded her senses. She reached out and steadied herself with a hand against the bulkhead to her left. "He's there," she said quietly and stopped a few feet from the door. I need you, Wally. She didn't know whether she had the courage to look again. You got me, Madam President.

"You first." Markos said.

"I'm not sure I –"

"You're not leaving my sight. Move." He raised his hand and this time Laura started walking before he could touch her.

Wally remained exactly as she had left him, lying twisted against the bulkhead like some abused and broken doll.

Markos was careful. He took few steps and his flashlight ran over every detail of Wally's body and the boxlike room. Taking the wireless from his hip, he flicked it on and barked commands into the static. She heard a voice confirm receipt of message and then silence.

"Okay," Markos ran his appraising eye over Wally's body and then over Laura's form. She shifted uncomfortably. "My men are coming to deal with this –"

"There will be an investigation." She couldn't help the anger in her voice.

"Yes, which is why I'll need you to follow me. The NCS will need a statement." Markos said.

Laura nodded. "I have to find Peter first." She continued before Markos could begin his protest. "Wally Gray has a son and we have an obligation to him."

"That can wait until after you've made your statement." Markos gestured towards the door. She didn't move.

"No, it can't."

20 minutes later.

Laura walked slowly towards the crude mud filled pit that served as New Carprica's first Pyramid court, Jarek Markos at her left shoulder. It was damned cold but the kids were dressed as if it were the middle of summer. The group of twelve year olds looked awkward as they tried to play the game with bodies trapped somewhere between child and adult. What skin that wasn't covered in mud was red from the cold. Their voices were as spirited as their play and their hair whipped in the wind. "What am I doing, Laura?"

He looked like Wally.

Peter Grey was easy to spot. He was easily the shortest of the group. I'm working all these hours. I don't even get to see my son until he's already asleep. A tall and wiry girl, Corina, had him pinned to the ground but he flashed a grin, cheeks bright red with exertion He twisted and managed to fling the ball towards goal. The clang when it struck the edge of the opening was loud and obnoxious and the ball dropped out of bounds. Corina laughed brightly and let him up. …before Peter I would never have guessed it was possible to love anyone this much. I love Sarah, but this is different. It changes you.

Laura put her hand on Markos' thick arm to keep him from following her as she approached the players.

"Miss Roslin." A sandy haired boy she didn't recognize from school hissed the words as he slapped Corina's arm and pointed at Laura. I'm gonna ask Rich for some time. Maybe I can consult for a while. The kids all stopped, most panted heavily and sported wet looking scrapes. They looked at her expectantly.

"What happened to your face?" Corina asked loudly.

"I'm all right." Laura put a reassuring hand on Corina's shoulder.

They had been having a good time. There was such little joy left now that Laura ached to say something trivial and leave them to it. But she had known Wally, and Peter, too long not to see this through. You have to do what you feel is right, Wally. Think about how you'll want to look back on this time, what you might regret.

"I'm sorry to interrupt your game. I need to speak with Peter," she said calmly. Peter's head popped up from behind Corina, his face fraught with guilt over something he must have done that Laura hadn't found out about yet.

"Time these squirts cleared the court anyway." Sam Anders' voice carried over the wind. Various members of the late Caprica Buccaneers stood behind him. Their sheer size and musculature made the kids look ridiculously small and out of place on the big court.

"Peter's in trouble," came the whiny singsong voice of Adam Brooks as he and the rest of the group left the court at a run. Maybe they were finally feeling the cold.

"Frak you, Brooksy." Peter called after him intentionally oblivious to the teacher that stood beside him. It was when she didn't reprimand him that she figured he realized that something serious had happened.

Battlestar Galactica

Adama brought the mug to his lips and frowned at the splash of lukewarm liquid that hit his face. He set the cup down and rubbed a hand over the dripping stubble on his chin, never taking his eyes off the report in his hands.

Manchin had brought the morning reports with his coffee. Though it wasn't much more than a piecing together of various wireless broadcasts from the surface, Adama enjoyed to read the update on the settlement in the calm of his quarters. He wouldn't admit it to a soul, but the reports made him feel that he was some small part of her life on the planet. When he read about the rains, he thought of Laura pulling his coat over her head, her auburn hair slick and matted to her head. When he read about the work stoppages, he wondered whether Laura was still teaching, whether she was still surrounded by a gaggle of eager faced kids. What he read today …

He grabbed a serviette from the coffee tray and wiped it roughly over his chin and the collar of his uniform. Grabbing his phone, he punched a line open.

"Sir?" The response was immediate.

"I want a Raptor, prepped and ready ASAP."

There was a slight hesitation and Adama nearly repeated himself before: "No can do, Sir. We've just received notice from the surface. All travel to and from the planet has been suspended indefinitely. We are to expect further communication with instructions within the hour."

Frak. "Understood. Get me Colonel Tigh."

"Right away, Sir."

The line went dead briefly and Adama reread the last line of the report still in his hand. There has been an incident in the storage facility aboard the Astral Queen. Government Liaison, Wallace Gray has been found dead. Further details should be forthcoming as the investigation proceeds.

"Admiral?" Saul's voice was slightly slurred. Adama didn't let it bother him as his friend was off duty.

"Have you read this morning's report?" Adama asked. There was the distinct sound of shuffling paper. "Forget I asked. There's been an incident on the surface, Wallace Gray is dead."

There was a long pause. "The gasbag?" He's too drunk.

"I need you, Saul. I need to know if Kara got a message through."

Saul sniffed loudly. "I'm on it."

"In the meantime, I'm gonna see what Jarek Markos has to say."

"Bill?"

"Yeah?"

"Give Lapdog my regards."

"Just do your job, Saul," he replied and replaced the phone in its cradle.

"I'm so sorry, Peter." He hadn't looked at her since she told him. They were sitting up on the highest bleacher and Laura could feel the cold seep from the wooden seat into her bones. Markos paced in the mud; his eyes never left her. She watched as Peter pulled at a blister on his hand, his gaze focused below on the professional pyramid players. She put a hand on the skin of his shoulder and her fingers slipped against the sweat that had cooled there.

"You're wrong." The boy was shaking his head; a thick lock of brown hair hid his eyes. "He's coming back."

She swallowed past the thickness in her throat. "I saw him, Peter."

He pushed her hand off his shoulder and stood. He ran down the bleachers at a pace that nearly sent him reeling.

"Peter -" She watched him stumble away.

Markos quickly blocked her view.

Colonial One
3 hours later

President Gaius Baltar gestured over his shoulder. "That meeting was a complete disaster. I have no idea why I bother anymore. What makes one member of that bloody Quorum happy only succeeds in infuriating three others. Before long, we'll have twelve little settlements instead of one and I'll gladly watch them all go to hell." He walked right past Markos and leaned over his desk. He grabbed an amber bottle, swallowed two chalky white pills and proceeded to chase them with the smoke of a thin cigarette. He didn't turn around again until he had taken at least three long drags. "God, I can't say I'm not happy for the interruption." His ran his fingers through his greasy dark hair and they caught briefly in the ends.

Jarek Markos obviously took the comment as his opportunity to speak.

"We have a situation on the Astral Queen. Wallace Gray, one of your liaisons, has been murdered."

A little small talk would have been nice. Now who the hell is Alice Grey? "Murdered? When did this happen?"

Markos leaned his weight over one of the chairs flanking the desk. Baltar wondered if it would hold. "Dr. Cottle is still making that determination. He was found this afternoon." Markos smirked. "It seems Laura Roslin was a long way from school."

Roslin? Yes … didn't she have some boring as beige vice-presidential candidate before she came pleading at my – he smirked -- bathroom door. Willy? No, Wally Gray. God, what I wouldn't give for five minutes with Playa right about now. "You don't think she murdered her own former advisor, do you?" He realized there was a little too much optimism in his voice. Laura Roslin in jail. Disgraced. Bored. Lonely. Who knows what could happen?

Markos shook his head. "That man's neck was snapped like a twig. No way a lightweight like Roslin could have done it. Doesn't mean she wasn't involved."

"Right … right … um … " Baltar stood up. "As far as you know, no one from this administration was involved?" He met Markos' eyes for the first time. "This investigation … it's not going to lead back here … is it?" I don't need this.

Markos shifted on his feet. "It's a little too early to rule anything out."

"Too early … yes. You're not planning on asking for military involvement in the investigation are you because I don't think—" I want anything to do with Adama. "--don't think it would be wise."

"To tell you the truth, sir, I was considering it."

"But didn't you dabble in corporate security on Caprica … and we do have a trained police force."

"Yes, but I've got a bunch of rooks in there. This is a hell of a way to break 'em in. The military has officers trained to facilitate these kinds of things."

I'd eat the entire five hundred and twelve page copy of the Articles of Colonization before I'd ask Adama for help. Baltar got up and began to pace. "This is strictly a civilian matter. The military is in place to protect us from our enemies … from the Cylons. That is their sole mandate. We can't run to them every time someone bloodies their goddamnned nose."

Markos shrugged slightly. "Understood, I'll do my best, Mister President."

"His best is not nearly good enough."

The voice came from behind Baltar and he recognized it immediately. His suspicions were confirmed by Markos' lack of reaction. At last. Baltar suppressed the urge to whip his head around towards her and with a calm that even he found impressive, asked Markos to keep him informed and dismissed the man.

Baltar then turned slowly in an effort to savour the moment. Every nerve ending tingled as his eyes met the expanse of a long, perfect leg.

Battlestar Galactica

…find attached the crew and passenger manifests of the following vessels: Icarus, Twin Suns, Fool's Errand and Heart of Ares. Be prepared to receive an NCS detachment at 1300 hrs. All listed individuals are to submit themselves for questioning. Galactica is ordered to provide additional transport to and from the neutral interrogation site aboard the Hegemon. There is to be no direct military involvement in the investigation … Adama read the orders in his hand for the third time as he awaited a response from the surface. He had so far spoken to three separate government aides all of whom claimed that the next person he spoke to would be able to help him. Finally, the line simply went dead.

He slammed down the receiver and handed Petty Officer Dutton the passenger manifests. "Determine where these ships are docked and get these lists to the appropriate captains." The NCS will have to round up anyone who doesn't freely cooperate.

"Yes, sir." Dutton bent over his console.

"Keyes," Adama turned, "have four Raptors prepped for launch and put the pilots on standby."

What the frak is taking you so long, Saul?

"Yes, sir."

The strategy was a simple one. I have a favour to ask, Kara. As Baltar was likely to run an insulated government, Adama needed a link between the military and the civilian population. Tyrol, Cally, Seelix, Duck and the others were no longer under his command, but he refused to abandon them completely to Baltar's whims. And Laura … I'm not going to have to shoot anybody this time am I? He smiled at the thought of that cocky grin. They decided that Kara would communicate by piggybacking encrypted messages onto the regular Colonial broadcasts. He would have the code key as well as Saul. Keep your eyes open. If something happens, you're all I've got.

Adama continued to oversee preparations for the arrival of the NCS and tried to appear calm as he waited for Saul.

2 days later

Laura ran out of the school tent and into the driving rain. Her boots alternately slipped and caught in the mud and it took effort to press forward. She could hear Peter yelling from the market row to her left. There, a small crowd had gathered around a dilapidated tent out of which a wiry man by the name of Agios sold odds and ends, mostly tools. By the time Laura began to push through the crowd, the rain had soaked through her sweater and the shirt underneath.

Three bodies were twisted together in the mud in front of the shop. Laura could hear the wet snap of fists against skin.

"Give it here, frakker, it's mine!"

The topmost body seemed to be trying to separate the two underneath. She recognized Agios by the large bald spot at the crown of his head; his salt and pepper hair and beard were smeared with mud.

"Boys –" Agios' voice was cut off as he was caught by one of the boys kicking legs. "That's it!" He pushed himself up and away from them. He gestured angrily at the meager crowd. "Don't just stand there, either help me or find someone who can!"

Laura looked around her as the crowd began to pull back, each looking at someone else, wondering what to do. "Peter!" she yelled but was easily drowned out by the hammering rain and the confused voices around her.

One of the boys struck the other in the face and blood mixed with the mud and water on his mouth and chin.

"Get back!" She was shoved abruptly from behind as two CCPF officers pushed by her and descended on the two boys. The men pulled them roughly apart and dragged them to their feet. Peter's shorter, stockier build identified him to Laura even as the rain began to pull the mud down his body. Blood continued to flow freely from his nose. He struggled against the officer, his feet trying to gain purchase in the mud. Laura gasped when the officer drove the heel of his hand into the side of Peters head and the boy's eyes rolled; he dropped and his hands did not come up to protect his face as he hit the ground. The other boy, whom she now saw was much older and who did not attend school, stopped all attempts to even move against the other officer.

"Hey!" She started walking towards the officer that had hit Peter but was stopped by a third officer.

"You somebody's mother?" The female officer's voice was loud by Laura's ear.

"No … but—" I'm his teacher. And the closest thing to family he's got left.

"Then get the frak out of here." She pushed Laura away from the shop. "Show's over." The officer addressed her last comment to Laura and the few stragglers who were curious enough continue standing in the cold rain.

"Is this how the police were trained to deal with children?" Laura held her ground and pointed to where Peter was being dragged away, still limp with his heels making grooves in the mud.

The woman pulled Laura under the cover of one of the awnings overhanging a different shop and got in her face. "One more word and you can join them in detention for the night. Now go."

Laura stared at her. Water collected where the awning bowed and heavy drops hit the ground with a random patter. She waited as long as she dared, her cold damp clothing too heavy against the bruises that covered much of her left side. The officer went to speak and Laura walked back out into the rain.