8 Years before cylon attack
Laura Roslin age 43
Location: Tauron Controlled Space – Colonial One En Route to Luna Three
To be adrift was perhaps the worst way to live. Being carried along by the current, at the mercy of nature's whims, was both humbling and frightening. In the middle of the sea, the planks of wood and worn rope that I clung to were all that stood between me and drowning.
The raft was not as seaworthy as I'd hoped. The waves repeatedly threatened—
Laura closed the book she had been reading during the flight and leaned back into the cushioned seat. She stared up at the vanilla ceiling of Colonial One.
He was back there, in his office, alone.
Richard alone was an elusive occurrence even at the best of times. He'd spent the last four and half years devoted to his campaign for the presidency, continually surrounded by the press or his campaign managers, spending his nights locked away in his office, working late in order to fulfill his duties as Governor of Caprica. Compared to now, those days had been filled with opportunity.
She could hardly remember how many months it had been since they had managed more than a few stolen moments together, and the last time had not ended particularly well. It had been during the party at campaign headquarters on the night of his election. She had pretended to feel unwell during the celebration and Richard, ever the consummate gentleman, had offered her the couch in his office to recover.
It wasn't long before he had joined her under the pretext of checking on her welfare. "Feeling better?" he had asked. "Mm, much better. Congratulations mister President." She remembered how he had smiled, his expression tainted by arrogance, so different from the first time they'd met…"Congratulations to you too, madam Secretary," he said as he tried to smooth over the pursuit of his agenda with soft kisses. "What?—wait, stop. Richard, we discussed this. You know I don't want to be Secretary of Education. I told you after the election was over that I was going back to teaching." His self-satisfaction dissolved in the wake of her continued protest.
"Laura, don't do this again," he intoned. "I know it hasn't been easy, I've been so busy, my campaigning and the election… but we've come this far together and I only want to see you get the recognition you deserve." When she turned away from him in an attempt to shore up her failing resolve he merely slid his arms around her waist and pressed his body close to hers so that his whispered entreaties were impossible to ignore.
"Do you honestly think you can go back to being just another powerless cog in the system and be satisfied? After what we've accomplished together? The people of the Twelve Colonies still need you. I still need you. Say yes." There was a part of her that recognized his undisguised attempt at manipulation, but it didn't matter. It didn't change the fact that what he said was not wholly devoid of truth. "All right," she exhaled. "All right, all right. I'll take the job. I'll stay." She just couldn't say no. She didn't really want to.
"I'm glad we agree. Everything will be different. I promise."
If by different he had meant that his every waking moment since the election would be scheduled, and that between the press events, the speeches, and the cabinet meetings, alone was a state of being for him that would all but cease to exist, then he had kept his promise. He'd kept it exceptionally well. Not that she had helped the situation much, but this was not then.
This was now.
Laura glanced over her shoulder at the row of blue seats behind her. Most of them were empty since this trip would be a short one. George Livy, the Chief of Staff was asleep. His bald head was tilted back into his seat cushion in what looked to be a very uncomfortable position. Cathrin, the Press Secretary was huddled off to the side, busy haggling with Dominik Grenville, Adar's speechwriter. Admiral Nagala, the Colonial Fleet liaison, wasn't in her seat, but up in the cockpit, probably chatting up the pilots.
Right now was an opportunity.
One that might not come again for a very long time…
Laura slid out of her seat and made her way down the aisle of worn blue carpeting, past the rows of seats, toward the sectioned off area of the rear cabin. Two men from Adar's security detail in their black suits and ties stood on either side of the thin door to Richard's office like the twin lion statues that guarded the entrance to the People's Council Hall on Caprica. They both glanced at her briefly with their steel blue eyes, but she was of no concern to them and likewise they were of none to her.
She didn't knock or betray her entrance into his office with anything more than the click of the door closing behind her. The orderly desk a few paces away, flanked by the flag of Caprica and of the Presidential Office, was vacant. She skirted the edge of the desk and made her way toward the navy blue curtain at the back of the room that divided Richard's office from his private accommodations. She found him on the far right of the well-furnished space standing before a full-length mirror struggling with his tie, an act in itself that was entirely unlike him. From his mumbled curses and the tense lines of his posture, she could tell something was amiss, but the source of Richard's frustration, besides the aforementioned tie, was beyond her ability to decipher.
He must have noticed her in his peripheral vision because he abruptly stopped fussing over his otherwise immaculate wardrobe.
"Finally done being upset over your promotion after all these months?" he asked, his gaze still focused on his reflection in the mirror. She tried to ignore the edge of bitter reprisal in his tone.
"If this is a bad time…"
He smiled and moved toward her until he was close enough to draw her into a loose embrace. This close she could feel how his entire body was tense.
"I'm only about to meet one of the most infamous terrorists in the history of the Twelve Colonies while riots are breaking out all across Sagittaron. Riots, in a colony full of backwards pacifist—" He clenched his jaw shut and closed his eyes for a moment to calm himself. "Who knew that wannabe soldier Nathan Kearney would leave me with such a mess? After all that military spending meant to 'maintain order,' I still inherit riots and terrorists. If only I could blame it all on some vast Cylon conspiracy. Maybe the Lords of Kobol just have it out for me."
When he saw that his wry humor had failed, his smile vanished. "I'm sorry," he sighed. "It's just all this pressure I'm under, and without you … Lately, it's been difficult." Normally he would have kissed her then. Normally when they were alone together, he didn't say much of anything, but as his hazel eyes searched her expression, she knew that the real source of his earlier frustration wasn't entirely a product of his upcoming meeting with Tom Zarek.
"Why is it," he began quietly, "that every time I look at you lately, I can't help thinking maybe you were right? Maybe I should have let you go when you wanted to leave. You probably would have been happier. Maybe even found someone you might actually love—"
"Richard, I—"
"Don't. Laura, I'm not a moron. When this began, I might have been naïve enough to think that given enough time, things would change, but I know better than to indulge in those kinds of illusions. Your…affection, for me is certainly not what keeps you here, but something does, regardless of how many times you've told me you're done with it all and let's face it if you were really so unhappy you wouldn't let a few half-hearted entreaties stop you. It makes me wonder, if you knew I'd let you go without a word to the contrary, would you go through with it, would you actually leave?"
She looked away and didn't answer.
"I thought so."
He waited, until she finally met his gaze.
"What's the real reason you stay?"
"Why does it matter?"
"I'm curious." He tightened his embrace. "Indulge me."
"I stay," she replied, her lips brushing against his, "because you still need me. You said so yourself." Her effort to deflect the conversation only frustrated him further, but then he kissed her, hard enough to push her back a step, as if through the sheer intensity of his desire he could wrest the answer he wanted from her, but she had no intention of ever telling him the truth.
She would never tell him that she stayed because, despite the risk of potentially career-ending scandal, he was safe. He had neither the luxury nor the inclination to demand of her anything more than what she was willing to give.
She had been the dutiful daughter, the efficient and well-liked teacher, the consummate politician and advisor who didn't cause trouble, and the supportive, if infrequent, lover of the most powerful man in the Twelve Colonies. She adopted each new guise with unsurpassable skill, carrying the responsibilities they entailed like a shield. But none of it was enough to combat what felt like some internal disconnect between her mind and her body. It was as if she was a ghost inhabiting a form with all of the things necessary to interact with the world, to feel its effects and extend her influence over it, and yet true focus of her attention was always somewhere…else.
Except when she was with Richard. With a look, a word, or a touch he had the ability pull her back to herself and keep her rooted in the present.
In the present, the pressure of his lips against hers compelled her to give ground, drawing him after her until he had her pinned against the wall. It was always a delicate balancing act with him. They both knew his reliance on her designated her as the one with the real power so when it was necessary to maintain the balance, or when she wanted to keep him from asking unpleasant questions, she gave ground.
When he pressed against her with his knee between her legs she responded by draping her arms over his shoulders and leaning into him. She closed her eyes as the familiar warmth from his wandering hands sent her heartbeat racing and after he inhaled in the middle of a kiss, it left her literally breathless. She knew that her control of the situation was rapidly slipping away, but in that moment, she couldn't have cared less. Her only thought was that that damn belt of his had to go.
She pulled away from him just enough to get one of her hands around the buckle. She smiled when she heard his sharp intake of breath as her fingers strayed momentarily from the task of loosening the strap. Laura knew he wasn't about to let her teasing go unchallenged, but before he could retaliate, Colonial One's intercom crackled to life.
"Ladies and gentlemen, we are commencing our final approach to Luna Three and will be docked at the port side airlock in a few minutes."
"Dammit!" He shifted his weight and rested his forehead against the wall while he tried to catch his breath.
"See Richard, this is what happens when you spend too much time talking."
He gave her a pointed look that said; I'm not done with you yet, but one thing he had learned well from her in the course of their affair was that secrecy demanded discipline and that when the chance for indulgence had passed that was it. Instead of lingering for one last kiss, or anything else for that matter, like he had done years ago when this had all been new, he withdrew enough for her to extricate herself from him with almost careless grace.
She smoothed out her skirt and he adjusted his belt with sigh of defeat.
"Did you have a chance to review your follow up speech with Dominik?" he asked while she fixed his tie.
"No, he and Cathrin were too busy arguing whether Zarek should be called a radical or a revolutionary instead of a terrorist."
"Those two will never agree on anything." He moved to retrieve the jacket he had left draped over the back of the chair in the corner. "If this meeting with Zarek goes poorly I don't know how much good a speech on prisoner education reform is going to do anyway."
"Then let's hope everything goes smoothly."
-xxx-
The dossier on Luna Three had listed that the prison moon was more commonly referred to as Cold Hell. As Laura walked down the concourse tunnel toward the main entrance, she thought the name was certainly appropriate. Luna Three was barely large enough to hold onto an atmosphere and far enough from the blazing heat of the solar core that even in the protected corridor of reinforced thermoplastic she could see her own breath.
The sky that stretched above her was overflowing with stars, but their light couldn't penetrate the deep shadows that cloaked the moon's surface beyond the harsh blue lighting of the prison facility. What she could see of the prison was a sprawling collection of steel and tunnels half-buried in the jagged black rock. This place would be a challenge to paint, she thought, but she had given up painting a long time ago, ever since the affair, and so instead of thinking of what colors she would have used she focused on the security checkpoint ahead and on Richard.
If it was possible, he seemed even more tense than before. No matter how hard he tried or well he hid it, she knew that his increased level of frustration did not bode well for his temper. Her concern mounted as they went through all the security procedures and were escorted into the stuffy conference room where the press and Tom Zarek awaited them. She and the rest of Adar's staff kept to the periphery while Richard moved to the table that had been set up in the center of the room. While the two men shook hands and sat down to the furious clicking of cameras, Laura watched Zarek.
"Tom, let me get to the point. You're a man of principle, you only want what's best for your people and I can respect that. That's why I'm willing to offer you a full pardon, if you'll just do one thing for me, apologize, give up violence as a means of political change. There are people out there still, killing and dying in your name and it has to stop. I'm asking you to help me put an end to this tragic waste of lives so that we can move past this toward a better future."
Tom Zarek no longer looked like the hardened, self-righteous young terrorist who had blown up the Sagittaron's Labor Ministry and whose name could inspire fear across the colonies. Twelve years in prison had reduced him to a man that appeared as unthreatening as any other, average in almost every regard, worn down by hard labor and confinement. She would have guessed he was ready to accept the pardon that Richard was offering if not for the look in his eyes of patience and quiet contempt. This is going to be a disaster.
"Mister President," he answered calmly, "if there are freedom fighters out there battling the system of corruption and exploitation that has held them captive for so many years, then they're doing it because it needs to be done, not because of me. So thank you for the offer, but I must respectfully decline. I trust my refusal will have no bearing on my parole hearing. Now, if you're through with me, I'd like to be taken back to my cell."
"You sonofabitch!" snapped Richard before he could reign himself in. "I can't fix a broken system when criminals like you are undermining the progress we've made at every turn. I will not allow terrorism to disrupt the government of the Colonies or the lives of its loyal citizens even if it takes hunting down and locking up every last miserable man like you. Get him out of here!"
Zarek was escorted out of the room while the press crowded around to record the aftermath. Laura sighed. Disaster had been an understatement.
-xxx-
An hour and a half of damage control with the press had left everyone noticeably exhausted by the time they headed back to Colonial One. Even Richard seemed completely drained of his earlier hostility. He had tried to mitigate the damage he'd caused after losing his temper by reiterating he knew the government was far from perfect, but that he was intent on making progress, despite men like Zarek who might try to stand in the way of it. After fielding questions for an hour, he had Laura give her speech as planned, but the press took little notice in the face of this newest scandal with Zarek.
Once onboard Colonial One, they all gathered in the main cabin for a final debrief while the ship got under way. Laura took a seat by herself. Richard stood quietly in their midst while Cathrin offered her assessment of the current situation and Dominik fumed in the seat next to her. When it was his turn, Dominik delivered an impassioned rant that he'd probably had planned since they'd left the last prison security checkpoint and Richard listened until Dominik had run out of things to say and resumed glaring at the back of the seat in front of him.
"I'm sorry that I gave the two of you more work with that outburst," said Richard. "Can you come up with a plan for the next few days to deflect the press?" When Cathrin nodded he turned to his Chief of Staff and Admiral Nagala. "Do we have an update on the Sagittaron situation?"
"There was another attack at the recruiting station in Thelona Province," replied Nagala. "A few more ongoing riots."
"All right, Admiral I'd like you to get a suppression plan in place. George can help you coordinate with Jack Reed at the Defense Ministry. I want that province under control by the time we get back to Caprica." Then at last, he turned to Laura. "Anything you'd like to add to the discussion madam secretary?"
"No, but there are a few modifications to the last education budget proposal I'd like to discuss with you."
Richard nodded.
"Okay we can talk that over in my office, the rest of you, get to work." He turned to leave and Laura got up from her seat to follow him. When they were out of earshot of the rest of the staff he smiled briefly. "Budget proposal. That's a good one." He ushered her into his office with a word to his security detail that he wasn't to be disturbed. "Now," he began once the door had clicked shut behind him, "where were we?"