After giving up on this fic about a dozen times in the last 3 months and repeatedly going back to it somehow I got out another chapter. Each time I thought I had walked away for good a kind reader would leave a note and suddenly I'd find myself pulled back in. I had so much trouble with this chapter. I'm sorry if it's a mess. I tried to split it into two but it just was not flowing right. I think this fic is cursed for me :-p. The gods don't want me to finish it.
Anyway, a few notes; The section which takes place on Galactica uses dialogue pulled directly from episode transcripts. Also of note, a deleted scene from BSG is referenced which I kept in canon. It's available on the DVD sets but you may be able to find it on YT. It's been marked with an asterisk*. Finally, many of the events of the chapter are references from the BSG webisodes released during the show hiatus due to the writer's guild of America strike of 2007. If you have not seen those, some canon information may seem new. I'm not sure where those can be found to watch at this point. I believe they were created using extra footage and mostly Canadian/UK cast and crew so that the American cast and crew could strike in solidarity with the American writers. If you can find them all let me know. Some clips can be found on YT.
No trigger warnings for this chapter. Although the subject matter is heavy it does not go beyond what would be featured in the series.
Feedback is always appreciated. Again, who knows when or if this will continue but it has a way of sucking me back. Forgive any errors. I work on this mostly in the middle of the night when my kids are asleep.
Best wishes
LLA
NEW CAPRICAN COLONIAL TENT CITY; DWELLING OF LAURA ROSLIN
WEEK 42 OF CYLON OCCUPATION
"I need that all cleared away, Tory," Laura said through the tightness in her throat.
The walk back to her tent after being discharged from the clinic had been slow and painful. She hadn't realized just how difficult it was going to be to return home without her son.
She imagined what it would have been like to have him back on Caprica. To bring him home to a clean bright house with a nursery filled with books and lovely things she thoughtfully picked out. It was a nice fantasy but Laura knew there was no reality where her son would exist back in the Colonies. Somehow he was destined to be born into such strange, trying and improbable circumstances. Modest as her tent was, she wished he could be with her. For months she'd gone without feeling a single moment of the deep loneliness she'd long been accustomed to. As she walked back to the empty dwelling she felt the familiar misery of solitude creeping back into her bones. With each step she felt as if she were walking further from him. To prevent from utterly falling apart on the way she reminded herself that she'd get to see Hera once she arrived.
Tory was patient, stopping when Laura needed breaks and keeping a fairly relaxed pace. The two women walked without much conversation, but as they arrived at the threshold Tory realized that she should have prepared Laura for what she was about to find.
Finding the memorial outside of her door had knocked the wind out of Laura's chest. She'd become weak in the knees and Tory had to rush her inside to get her off of her feet.
"Please, Tory, it all needs to go," Laura insisted, as she sat hunched over on the side of her mattress.
"Ma'am-" she began to protest but Laura spoke over her.
"I can't walk in and out of here and see that. I can't do it."
She could hardly stomach the sight of it. It was bad enough to have to claim her child was dead. She couldn't look at a monument to his alleged demise. Only a literal gravestone might have been worse.
"I recognize that it's difficult, Ma'am, but I feel clearing it would be unwise and also insulting to the community. Your fellow citizens are leaving tokens of sympathy."
Laura shook her head in refusal. She couldn't bear it. The statue of Leto holding her children, the candles, beads and cards all forming a shrine to an abominable lie.
"It only adds to the believability of the situation," Tory asserted as she began to unpack Laura's bag.
"It's only a small gesture. As you venture out into the city people will be coming up to you and offering direct condolences. You need to be ready to accept them."
As practical and logical as Tory's argument was, Laura could hardly absorb her words.
"I can't do this in front of Maya," she fretted, looking past Tory as if she were admonishing herself. "She's lost a child. This is-."
"Maya understands," Tory firmly contended, regaining Laura's focus. "For now all you need to do is rest. No one is expecting you to be out and about any time soon. Just stay in. Recover and try your best to keep a low profile."
"I don't know what to say to people," Laura muttered to herself, looking down at where her hands trembled in her lap.
"You should know," Tory reluctantly began, "that the Temple sisters and priests have organized a vigil."
"A vigil?"
A few members of the Temple clergy had organized the prayer service through word of mouth once the news of Roslin's loss was confirmed to the public. The hearts of the people were heavy with grief for their former president. It was as if a small beacon of light had been snuffed out by the heavy cloak of hopelessness. Word was spread that there would be a time set during the coming lesser holy day observance to light candles, sing hymns and to pray for the child's soul and for the healing of his mother's grieving heart.
Maya had heard from some of their high-school age students that the teens planned to meet by the river bank after the vigil and send up Virgonian paper lanterns they'd made in dedication.
It seemed as though almost everyone was showing their support and mourning the loss in one way or another.
"It'll be held on the first night of Anthesteria," Tory justified with a shrug. "A lot of people would be going to Temple anyway so-"
"My Gods," Laura lamented, putting her palms to her cheeks and leaning forward.
"Are you okay?" Tory grimaced as she watched her go noticeably pale.
"I feel sick to my stomach," Laura winced, feeling her face flush and her insides churn with raw guilt.
Tory quickly grabbed a notepad from Laura's desk and rushed to her side to fan her with its pages.
"Better?" she asked after a few moments.
Laura took a deep breath and blew it out.
"This is wrong, Tory," she replied, her voice finally stronger since the strain of delivery, but now heavy with emotional exhaustion.
Tory bit at her lip in frustration, trying to decide how to respond.
"Ma'am…Laura, as terrible as this all seems, it's only lending credibility to the claims."
"It's too much."
"It's not," Tory countered far more boldly than she usually would. "You should remember that it may not even be enough. It was by the grace of the Gods that he wasn't found last night."
Reports of cylon home intrusions had begun the previous evening. The accounts came from dozens and dozens of colonial households who had been visited by cylons claiming to do curfew checks and take census information focused on the encampments' juvenile population. It quickly became obvious to resistance members in the know that they were searching for Laura Roslin's child. When the foster home was contacted they had confirmed a late night visit from a cylon Six escorted by two centurions. Somehow, though the unknowing foster mothers reportedly gave the child's sex and approximate age to the cylon nothing had come of it. At least not so far.
When Laura received news of the search she'd braced herself for the worst. She prayed that if they found Will and took him that they would come to take her too. At least then maybe they would be together.
When word came from the foster home of the seemingly benign nature of the cylon visit Laura had been dumbfounded. That was until she learned the visit had been made by a Six.
Then it all suddenly made an odd sort of sense.
She thanked the Gods over and over that her son had been protected for the time being, but she had a feeling that the Lords of Kobol had little to do with it.
Laura kept her suspicions to herself. She couldn't begin to figure out how to explain the strange relationship she had with the Six who called herself Caprica or how she could sense her from the others along with some of her emotions. Will was
safe for the time being and so she kept her secret hidden from even those who were trying desperately to help her.
"You know that we need this, Laura," Tory continued to press. "All of it."
"You're right," Laura conceded after a long pause in thought.
Satisfied that she'd gotten through to her, Tory went to pour a glass of water.
The tent had been stocked while Laura was gone. Several neighbors had come by and left pantry items and supplies with Maya for when Laura arrived home. Jugs of potable water, food, firewood and candles. Maya had done her best to organize it all but space was limited and every available surface in the humble kitchen space held some sort of gift left in condolence.
"I'll be back to check on you in a few hours," Tory said as she handed over the cup.
With a nod of thanks Laura took it and Tory headed toward the tent flap to take her leave.
"Hey," Maya greeted, walking through the opening before Tory could exit.
"Hey. I was just leaving. She's gunna rest. Doc's orders," Tory quickly relayed.
"Maya," Laura called from her bed.
She was so relieved to finally see her again.
Maya smiled and waved excitedly over Tory's shoulder.
"I'll make sure she's settled in," she promised as Tory continued to inch her way toward the exit.
"There's a list on the desk of reasons to call for Nurse Brigid versus getting her back to Cottle based on any concerning symptoms," Tory noted.
"Okay," Maya nodded. "I'll go over it."
"On the back is a list of things she shouldn't be doing until she's given approval. Don't let her talk you into thinking she's ready. She's not," Tory stressed.
"I'll make sure she's taking it easy," Maya giggled.
"I'm right here," Laura irritatedly reminded them, but the two only glanced over at her for a moment.
"The breast pump and bottles are on the kitchen block," Tory continued to list. "They still need to be sanitized and then hidden away when not in use. The paper on the desk has her expression schedule on it too. First bottle pick up comes in the morning."
"Got it," Maya smiled.
"You're sure?"
"I promise."
Tory was less than confident that the sweet gentle woman would actually be able to counter Roslin if she decided to go against Cottle's instruction, but she didn't have the time to stay and play nurse herself.
"See you later, Laura," she said before finally turning to go.
"Thank you for everything, Tory," Laura called after her. "And please let me know the moment you hear anything about Col. Tigh."
He'd been gone for almost two full days, taken from his home again by New Caprican Police. Ellen reported that the arresting officer said he was being taken in for suspected conspiracy to commit terrorism, but not a word had been heard of him since.
"Yes. Ma'am," Tory said before slipping through the flap.
Free of Tory's overbearing supervision Maya turned to face Laura with a wide excited grin.
"Congratulations, mommy!" she cheered as she rushed over to give her a hug.
"Thank you, Maya," Laura sighed as they embraced. "Gods, I'm so glad you're okay."
"Me?" Maya chuckled, taking a step back to look her over. "I should be saying that about you. Last we were together you were rushing out of here in agony."
"I'm okay," Laura shrugged, reciting the well practiced lie as easily as any truth she'd ever told.
"I wanted to come see you at the clinic but Tory thought it was best that you didn't have many visitors."
"It's fine," Laura said, eager to move on. "Maya, I need to apologize to you. Though, I know I don't deserve your forgiveness."
"Apologize?" the young woman frowned in confusion. "For what?"
Laura's stomach began to flip again. For lying to you, she thought. For endangering your life, for manipulating you, for befriending you to be nearer to your child.
"For everything outside the tent," she explained with shame in her eyes. "For having to see it and walk past it. For this damn vigil happening at the Temple. For asking you to lie about the death of a newborn for frak sake."
"Laura, stop," Maya told her. "I appreciate the concern, but I can handle it. I don't resent you for the lie you have to tell. In fact I want you to stand firm in it and push forward through it because if you don't it could wind up becoming the truth. Lie your ass off and protect your child. I want our babies to play together one day. That would make this all worth it."
Laura nodded in acceptance, but it was only the mention of Hera that distracted her from her guilt.
"Where is Isis?" she asked, suddenly aware that Maya had not brought the baby with her.
"Oh, I left her next door with one of the neighbor girls. Gods, Laura, I'm so glad you're home. We'll get through this. Okay?" Maya pledged with a warm smile. "We're here for you. I washed all of your laundry and sheets. There's plenty of food in the pantry and wood for the stove. Now let's get your feet up," she prompted.
Sweet as her words were, Laura was too concerned over Hera's absence to appreciate them.
"Neighbor girl?" she scowled, letting Maya usher her legs onto the bed.
"Yes. You know the couple in the tent behind us with the teenage girls. The older one Kyera, the one who sometimes helps us with after-school math. She's watching Isis for me. Just for a little bit so I can help you get settled. Isis is just sleeping. Kyera knows to come here and ask for help if she needs it," Maya explained, adjusting Laura's pillows behind her. "Lords, you must still be so sore. I wish we had some ice packs. When you're feeling up to it you'll have to tell me all about the delivery. Now, where's that list Tory wanted me to go over?" she pratted on as she made her way toward the desk.
Maya picked up the folded piece of paper from where Tory had left it and began to scan the notes.
"Maya…" Laura attempted.
"Are you feeling light headed?" Maya tested.
"No," Laura passively answered through her frustration.
"How's the cramping?"
"It's fine. Maya, forget about that for now."
"It's important, Laura," Maya insisted, eager to fulfill Tory's delegations. "Signs of fever, chills, passing large clots," she continued to read aloud, "extreme cramps, heavy bleeding, fatigue, signs of mastitis, engorgement or-"
"Maya, I told you not to let Isis out of your sight!" Laura abruptly blurted.
Maya looked up from the list as an expression of irritation briefly flashed across her face.
Suddenly Laura realized how out of line she probably sounded to the other woman. She had no rights to the child, no authority to dictate how she was looked after and Maya had no real idea as to why she felt so protective of the girl beyond friendly concern.
Chalking up Laura's scolding to anxiety and hormones, Maya's features quickly softened.
"Things have calmed down. She's okay. I know you were worried about us. I just figured that maybe it would be too much for you to have her around right away."
Laura grimaced and shook her head.
Maya couldn't have been more wrong.
The only thing that had given Laura the strength to return to her tent without her son had been the thought of getting to see Hera. As much as everyone kept trying to comfort her, none of their consolations had made a damn bit of difference.
Hera couldn't speak to her, couldn't offer her sympathies, reassurance or prayers, but Laura knew that she would finally find some comfort with the child in her arms. Every woeful step she'd taken on the walk from the clinic to the tent, still aching, scared and heartsick, had been achieved by telling herself that she was walking toward the little girl.
"I'm sorry, Maya," she said looking up from her lap. "Would you please go get her for me?" she asked softly, humbled by the shame of her outburst.
"Now? You're supposed to pump for bottles and then rest," Maya said, holding out the written instructions in her hand.
Laura's shoulders fell and her eyes began to water.
"I thought she'd be here when I got back," she sniffed, the disappointment evident in her voice.
"Laura, I just figured having another baby around-"
"Please, Maya?" Laura asked again.
She knew she was acting like a spoiled child. Hera was peacefully sleeping next door and yet she was insisting that she be taken from a warm cot and brought out just so she could see her.
She just so badly needed to hold on to her.
Laura would never be able to explain it. She could hardly understand it herself. The bond she had with Hera was something she knew she'd only ever be able to feel. It was something beyond the limits of words and voice. It wasn't just affection. It was as if the blood they shared had bound their souls to one another and somehow she knew that Hera felt it too. So much of that blood had been spilled as Laura brought her son into the world and in some way she felt as if being with Hera again would renew her body and soothe her spirit. No one would ever grasp the strange connection and she didn't want them to. Whatever it was, it was theirs to share alone.
*She supposed the day she'd been wheeled to the baby girl's incubator in Life Station was the day that she should have realized that she'd been altered in some physical way by the hybrid blood she'd been given. Her immediate connection to the infant had been far too strong to be spurred by only gratitude, but Laura had hoped at first that it was more spiritual than corporeal. Now she knew it was undeniably both.
"Please?" she asked again, her eyes filled to the brim.
Maya let out a long breath and finally she nodded in agreement.
She'd truly thought that she was doing the right thing by leaving the baby home. Isis was becoming much more mobile and active. It was a lot to handle at times. She thought that while the baby napped she and Laura would catch up, that they would talk about what happened the night of the birth, share their experiences, talk about what little Will looked like. As she turned to leave for her tent she considered that perhaps Laura just wasn't ready.
During the last few days of her daughter Diana's short life Maya had expected that her baby would take her heart with her when she died. When it actually happened it was worse than she'd feared. Instead of her heart being taken away Maya was left alone with it filled with all the love she had built up for her baby and nowhere to put it. To be left with a heart swelled full of adoration but no one to receive it was as disorienting as it was devastating. She'd felt so lost until the moment Laura put Isis in her arms.
There she was; innocent and perfect, ready to accept all of the love and devotion that Maya felt had been stuck inside of her with no way out since Diana died.
She entered her tent and quietly thanked and dismissed Kyera before picking up her sleeping daughter.
She recalled the first time she'd held Isis, now over a year ago. She'd felt her heart finally flood open and then she began to heal.
Maybe, she considered as she exited with the little girl in tow, Laura needed somewhere to place all of her love for Will until she had him back.
"Is it okay if she finishes her nap here?" Maya asked once she returned to Laura's tent with Isis still fast asleep in her arms.
Laura nodded and her unshed tears finally spilled over her lashes as she reached out for the child.
"You two rest for a bit and I'll boil some of the bottles so they're ready," Maya said, carefully passing the sleeping baby over.
The instant Laura had Hera in her arms she felt her body fill with warmth. She took in a deep breath and it was as if it was the first real air that had reached her lungs in days. It was a feeling of relief and a calming energy that she couldn't put to words.
"I'll be back shortly," Maya added, before grabbing the bag of bottles and pump flanges and taking her leave.
Laura hardly noticed her go as she looked down at the face of her tiny savior.
"I missed you," she whispered to the sleeping child.
Hera began to wiggle, letting out a few little noises and snuggling into Laura's embrace. Without warning Laura's breasts responded and she felt the prickling sensation just before her milk let down. As the front of her nightgown went damp so did her cheeks as her tears began to relentlessly stream down her face.
She desperately missed her son and there was no source of comfort in the universe that could help her bear it besides the feeling of Hera in arms.
Once she was able to compose herself she gently placed the baby on the bed at her side and cuddled up next to her.
"I want so much for you two to know each other one day," she whispered as she closed her own weary eyes. "Even if I'm not there to see it."
NEW CAPRICAN CYLON ADMINISTRATIVE BUILDING;
OFFICE OF JOHN CAVIL
WEEK 42 OF CYLON OCCUPATION
I've completed my check on all households known to have infants within the east side of the tent city," Caprica reported to the circle of her siblings. "There were only a couple who were even close to matching the age of the Roslin baby considering the supposed timing of the birth. They were both female."
"You're sure about that?" Cavil pressed, scowling at her from the other side of the tense ring they stood in.
"Yes," she sniffed, dabbing at her eye with her thumb. "I upset the families, but I made sure. I didn't want it to be true," she began to cry, putting on her best performance.
Real tears streamed from her eyes but they were tears of gratitude, tears of joy over God's mercy. Thankfully she was able to use them to convey just the right amount of falsified grief as she lied her frakking ass off.
Caprica had been nervous that she wouldn't be able to elicit such tears on command during the planned meeting, but just recalling the feeling of sheer relief that had flooded through her body upon the recent discovery she'd made was enough to inspire her eyes to well up and pour over with utter mirth every time she thought of it.
Once splitting from D'Anna and acquiring herself a centurion escort as charged, Caprica began her reluctant search of the Colonial encampment. With every tent and shanty she entered she grew more and more disgusted with herself. The horrified looks on the faces of children and parents turned her stomach and sent sharp pangs of guilt through her chest. As the evening fell darker her intrusions began to interrupt people's supper and wake their sleeping babies, throwing their little households into a state of terror just by showing her face. It didn't matter how delicately she attempted to approach them under the guise of doing census and curfew checks. She could tell that her infamous image was simply part of their nightmares. She felt like a demon, like a monster and the more homes she entered, the more families she upset, the more she considered perhaps she was one.
As the night went on she'd come across less than a handful of infants that could be considered newborn. She'd been nearly ready to find D'Anna and insist that they call it a night and resume the search at a more appropriate time when she came across a larger than average dwelling with toys left out front in the dirt. It wasn't a tent but a permanent structure, crudely constructed yet far more solid and sturdy than the canvas shelters that neighbored it. Usually such structures were used for production of colonial goods and services, but this one seemed to be home to a large family or perhaps some kind of daycare. Caprica observed the old battered playthings stuck in the mud; a few worn shovels, an old red wagon, a soft play pyramid ball and a couple of little trucks with broken wheels. It was obvious that children spent time there. Gathering all the nerve she had left Caprica decided to make it her last stop.
She'd known the moment the frightened couple had opened the door.
The tiny cry that sounded from a cradle, as if on cue, sent a burst of warm joy through her body.
One of the women had rushed to the crib while her wife stood by to confront the intrusion. Caprica watched on as the worried woman lifted the screeching bundle up into her arms, ignoring the wife's stern questioning as to why she was there so late in the evening.
As soon as Caprica set her eyes on the baby she knew and she felt her heart begin to drum with elation.
"Is this your child?" she'd asked the woman nearest to her.
"We foster these children. We've adopted two as our own. The younger two we have at the moment are with us until other arrangements are made or the parents are able to take them again," she explained.
Caprica was unable to take her eyes off of the baby.
"How old is he?" she'd asked, presuming the infant's sex without explanation.
"A few days," the foster mother replied with a curt shrug.
Caprica watched the other woman shush and rock the fussing child and her heart twinged in her chest, imagining that he missed his real mother.
He had to know, didn't he? After hearing her heart beating around him for months. He had to know that she wasn't there.
"And his parents?" she prompted, still staring in awe.
"We aren't usually given much information. In this case all that we know is that the mother is still a minor without any parents herself, the poor thing. We were told she wants to do a bit more schooling and spend some time preparing better before she takes him back."
"How long will you keep him?" Caprica tested, inching closer and closer to the woman that held him.
"Until a long-term placement can be found," the first woman answered. "For as long as he needs us, I suppose. We try not to turn any away but our resources are limited. You can take that to your census, but the number of children we have will likely change before it makes any difference to you."
"I see," she said, finally taking her eyes from the baby and glancing around the humble home. There were more toys and books scattered around a small living space. She noticed two closed off doors to rooms which she assumed held the other sleeping children. The baby's crib was in the kitchen close to the warmth of the stove and set against the wall under a symbol of the Moons of the Triple Goddess. "You show God's grace to these children," Caprica told the obviously pagan pair.
"We just do our best," the one rocking the baby replied.
"May I?" Caprica asked, extending her hopeful arms.
The couple exchanged hesitant glances. When they agreed she knew it was out of fear of denying her what she'd asked.
As gently and carefully as she could Caprica took hold of the child whom she'd last seen wiggling on Simon's ultrasound screen. She marveled at his tiny perfect features and how impossibly small his fingernails were.
"Does he have a name?" she questioned, though she was positive that she was either being lied to or that the women had no idea who the child truly was.
"Atlas," one of them told her. "We weren't given a surname. Sorry if you need that for your records."
"Atlas," Caprica whispered before kissing his sweet forehead. A strong name for such a tiny being.
She was momentarily mesmerized by just how soft his skin was and she wondered if his mother had gotten the chance to hold him before sending him off to be hidden away. Surely if Laura had felt the silken warmth of his cheek she wouldn't have been able to let him go, Caprica pondered, hypnotized by the delicate newborn. She almost didn't want to let him go herself.
"Stay safe, little one," she whispered over him.
"Goodnight, ladies," she'd bid the couple, passing him back. "Keep him close."
To deter suspicion Caprica had continued to visit several more households into the night, her energy and optimism renewed now that she was confident that the baby had lived. She was so overjoyed for Roslin and yet she now understood that the pain she'd felt emanating from her was from giving him up to protect him.
Caprica eventually retired to her bed, the one in her rarely used flat in the cylon residence building. She just couldn't face Gaius and let him sour the relief she felt within. She finally slept after days spent awake, but only once she'd made the choice not to report her discovery to another soul for the time being.
"Stop your blubbering, Six," Cavil admonished her. "What about you, Three?"
"There's a premature newborn in the Colonial medical tent," D'Anna began recounting her own search. "Still in an incubator due to an infection. Confirmed female. I did find a male infant in a tent on the west side who fit the age estimation, but there was no indication that he didn't belong to the young couple he was with. The parents both have a very dark complexion as does the child. It was clear the woman had recently given birth. I didn't think it made sense to take him in."
D'Anna had dutifully done what was asked of her but she'd quickly grown weary of her task. Lack of a proper night's sleep was beginning to catch up to her, but there was also something about searching for the infant that was giving her a strange sense of recall. The eerie familiarity of walking down the rows of tents was almost disorienting. She'd realized a few times that she'd been listening out for the haunting far off cries from her dreams and she internally scolded herself for so easily confusing her spectral mind with reality. She'd been more than ready to declare the mission completed and almost relieved that she'd found nothing to return with.
"I think he's really gone," Sharon followed. "We knew this pregnancy was high risk. Doc Cottle said it was a full placental abruption. By the time Roslin got to the clinic they couldn't save him."
"If she was in our custody we could have," Doral interjected.
"Maybe," Simon countered as he scanned the records Boomer had obtained from Doc Cottle, "but a full placental abruption does cause immediate fetal demise. It can happen quite suddenly. Says here that there was no fetal heartbeat detected upon her arrival to the clinic. If it happened under our care it's still unlikely we would have been able to operate in time."
"But at least there would be a body!" Cavil snapped in return.
"I don't know if I buy that they got rid of the remains so fast," Doral added.
"Colonel Tigh was asked about that during his interrogation last night," Leoben noted. "He was pushed pretty hard but his story never changed. Says the body went to a riverside pyre a few hours after the birth."
Boomer's brow rose at the mention of the former XO's inquest. The methods of encouraging him to talk were escalating and she didn't want to be a part of it anymore. She'd avoided John's request that she join the Two for the Colonel's questioning. Threatening Cottle had been enough to handle. She'd never much cared for Tigh, but she didn't want to watch him be brutalized. She supposed it made her a coward. She wasn't brave enough to speak up against it and she wasn't loyal enough to join in.
"It's true that most Capricans cremate babies and children who die under age twelve," she confirmed. "I remember it being common practice. They did it on Leonis too when I was stationed there. I think a few of the other colonies did it as well. After a child dies it's usually supposed to be done before dusk the following night. It lines up. With Roslin being pretty religious it makes sense that she'd adhere to the ritual."
"What the frak is the point of that?" Cavil spat.
"It's from the story of Zagreus," Leoben began in his ever subdued yet passionate timber. "The Child of Persephone and Zeus is distracted by his toys and killed and eaten by Titans. His father Zeus, realizing what happened to the boy, takes a lightning bolt and turns the Titans to ashes. Within the ashes Persephone finds the heart of her son and sees that it's still beating. She brings it to Zeus and begs him to put Zagreus' heart into a mortal woman so that their baby might be reborn. He does and the mortal woman they choose rebirths the child and Zagreus lives again. The Hellenic tradition takes from the story the hope that if a young soul can be given back to the gods fast enough after their demise; perhaps it may be reborn to live again," the Two finished.
"Frakking idolatrous idiots," Doral scoffed.
"What a crock," Cavil followed.
Caprica frowned and cast her eyes to her boots. She didn't much like the idea of the morbid heathen parable either but the parallels were certainly not lost on her. The image of a mother willing to do anything to see that her child survives, even giving him up to another woman to care for.
While she didn't agree with Roslin's worship of so many false deities she could see how she might find strength within their stories of strife. Roslin's gods were fallible unlike the one true God. Like humans they went through joy and tragedy, each with their own tales. Caprica could see the appeal of such divine inspiration. Sometimes it was so difficult to know if she was pleasing her perfect God who had never strayed from his own holy light.
"The entire population seems to know and accept that the baby passed," she spoke up, attempting to add credence to the claim. "I've seen people bringing food and flowers to Rolsin's tent. The whole encampment is talking about the loss. There's a little memorial constructed by her door to honor him and another in the Temple, apparently. There's even supposed to be a big prayer service there later this week according to Felix Gaeta."
"A what?" Cavil grimaced.
"A Temple vigil," Boomer clarified. "A service for parishioners to gather and pray for the suffering family."
"Find out when," the One ordered. "Send a police squadron and half a dozen centurions to break it up. I don't want them gathering in large stagnant groups like that anymore."
"Is that really necessary?" Caprica complained.
"Just do it," Cavil demanded.
"Back to the topic at hand," Simon redirected. "Did we find out if any samples were taken before the cremation? Was the placenta saved?" he posed.
Boomer shook her head, avoiding the glowering look John was giving her. She didn't know what else he wanted from her. There was nothing more she could have gained from Cottle. Short of shooting him, which she had not been authorized to do, she didn't know what else she could have done to change anything and yet John was infuriated when she'd returned with only Roslin's records in hand.
"We asked the Colonial doctor at gunpoint," she told Simon. "He said he had nothing to give us. Said the afterbirth was brought to the pyer with the body."
"They've done it again," Doral grouced. "First the hybrid, now this."
"We should have taken her in and never let her go!" Cavil began to rant. "Dead or alive, that child should have been born in cylon custody!"
Caprica shook her head.
"That would have worked against the whole purpose of that child bringing the races together."
"That's your agenda, Six!" he returned, his face reddened with fury. "Not mine!"
Caprica looked to Boomer for support but the Eight averted her eyes.
"There was much more than just symbolism to that child," Simon contended. "We could have gleaned a lot of answers by studying his genetic makeup. It's a hard loss."
"Frak!" Cavil swore, turning and slamming his fist upon his desk.
"That poor baby," Caprica began to weep again.
"He's in God's hands now," D'Anna shrugged. "Better off than the lot of us."
"That's it!" Cavil exclaimed, turning back to the circle of his siblings. "I want Roslin in custody as soon as Simon can get a plan together."
"For what?" Caprica scowled.
"She passed down those genes to that baby and then destroyed the evidence. She's gunna make up for it!"
"How?" the Six squinted, growing more and more wary of where the One's line of thinking was headed.
"She still apparently has viable ova. I want em. All of em. Whatever's left. If we can procure another child with the same genetic makeup we can study it all the same. It'll be in our hands from the start."
"At the very least the ovum itself would be valuable to study," Simon considered.
"And not just that," John went on. "We're gunna finally figure out what Roslin's DNA alteration actually did to her once and for all. You two wanted a world where human and cylon lived together blended in harmony," he said grinning bitterly at the Six and the Eight, "well we're going to see how our DNA really mixes and how many ways there are to do it."
"Can't we give her some time?" Caprica argued. "She's just lost her son."
"I'm done listening to you, Six!" Cavil shouted. "That bleeding heart of yours hasn't helped a damn bit! Simon, how quickly can you get things ready?"
"My brothers and I could be ready in a matter of a day. That's not the problem. Roslin's body won't be ready for a successful egg retrieval for a while. Even a forced ovulation with synthetic hormones would probably fail at this point. She needs about six weeks to recover from delivery."
"Can you speed it up?" the One posed.
"Maybe," Simon cautiously considered. "We have noticed her healing time is a bit more rapid than most Colonials, but it's not by much. The womb needs to heal. Her records also indicate she's on antibiotics for a sutured internal laceration that occured during delivery. Plus her natural hormones should reset before she's given any synthetically. She's peri-menopausal as it is."
"What's that mean?" D'Anna questioned.
"It means that though she may still be fertile now, her blood work indicates that she won't be for much longer. She's at the very end of her reproductive cycle. Which is another reason why this pregnancy was so fascinating. All that being said, though we may be racing against her biological clock, trying to rush things will only cause more obstacles than there already are."
"Damn it," Cavil swore. "Well we're gunna let her know she's not off the hook for this or for the damn bombings. Bring her in."
"She can hardly get out of bed yet!" the Six objected.
"Then drag her in," Cavil mocked her concern.
Caprica narrowed her eyes at her brother.
"You want her to be healthy and recovered enough to have Simon harvest her eggs in a matter of weeks yet you'll drag her out of her home against her will only days after she almost bled to death giving birth? I think your anger is short circuiting your logic."
"Then we'll go to her," he dismissed, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. "But not you, Six," he said, pointing at her with one eye open. "You're done handling Roslin. You've had about as much impact on her as a rake pushing water up a hill."
"There's another factor at play here," Simon said, interrupting his siblings' bickering as he looked through Cottle's notes. "Says here that she's BRCa1 gene positive."
"What the hell is that?" Doral scowled.
"It means," Simon continued, flipping the pages of the heisted file, "that she carries a harmful Colonial gene variant that increases her chances of developing aggressive forms of hereditary breast and ovarian cancers."
"But she already had breast cancer and Gaius cured her," Caprica remarked.
"Hera cured her," D'Anna amended, crossing her arms over her chest.
"Yes," the cylon physician acknowledged. "But we don't understand enough about the hybrid cure to know if it will last or prevent future cancer development. It may have eliminated the cancer cells within her body at the time it was administered, but unless the hybrid blood transfusion had some sort of effect on altering that specific gene mutation I'd guess that she's still at a high risk of a recurrence. We just can't be sure at the moment.
"What's that matter?" Doral posed with an arched brow.
"It matters because what we do know is that the artificial hormones which are needed to promote hyperovulation and accelerated maturation for an egg harvest do increase the risks of eventual cancer development for someone with this particular gene mutation."
"Taking her ova will give her cancer?" Caprica questioned as her temper began to rise again.
The horrors of what was being inflicted on Roslin just kept getting worse.
"It might contribute to it in the future," Simon corrected. "It might not."
"I don't really care and neither should any of you," Cavil advised the group. "Roslin has little regard for the gift of life. I don't see why we should worry about her future health. Remember this woman was willing to airlock us alive. I can think of about a dozen ways she'll likely perish before cancer ever has the chance to get a hold of her again. We're going forward. As it is now her body may hold some vital information. This is the least she can do to make up for her crimes."
"Wait, you don't plan to have her carry another child, do you?" Boomer tested. She was more than uneasy with the plan and strangely irritated that it was the first she was hearing of it. John obviously hadn't come up with it on the spot and from what she could gather he'd spoken to Simon about it prior to the meeting. She was disgusted by the idea and yet she was irrationally jealous that he had not shared it with her before the others. John was still resentful over her supporting Caprica and it was becoming exhausting trying to get back into his good graces, especially when she didn't truly understand why she wanted to be there. "I mean if this baby didn't survive what chances would another have? Not to mention Roslin can't be trusted worth a damn anyway."
"No. No, of course not," John confirmed. "Once Simon produces an embryo using Roslin's egg we'll need another Colonial woman to implant it in for gestation. One that's young, strong and healthy. One who isn't going anywhere any time soon and won't be missed. Roslin's so dedicated to her frakking faith's rituals? Let's give Persephone's child to a mortal woman to be reborn- as it were," he said with a sly smirk.
Leoben turned toward the One, a clear glint in his eye marking his sudden intrigue with the new plan.
"I think I may have a perfect suggestion."
BATTLESTAR GALACTICA;
QUARTERS OF ADMIRAL ADAMA
WEEK 43 SINCE FLEEING NEW CAPRICAN ORBIT
Lee hit his breaking point the morning they lost two Viper's during what should have been a simple drill. The remaining pilots in the fleet were overworked and running on fumes all in preparation for a battle no one was sure they would ever fight.
Lee was done following orders without speaking up. His father wasn't thinking rationally. Zack died during a training drill. It didn't have to be wartime for pilots to lose their lives. Stretched as thin as they were, something bad was bound to happen sooner rather than later and Lee needed to say something before it was too late.
After a call over to Galactica failed to get his point across Lee left Pegasus to confront the Old Man face to face.
"This whole thing is frakking insane!" Lee shouted, losing his temper as his father milled around his quarters, refusing to give him any eye contact. "We've got two ships at half-strength. We've got crews that haven't seen action in over a year and a half. And you're acting like the o nly problem is they're not working hard enough!"
Fed up with his son's berating, Bill finally looked up at him with narrowed eyes.
"Have you taken a look at yourself in the mirror lately?" he bated, his anger surging within his chest. "You're weak, soft! Mentally and physically."
Lee's brow went up at what he considered a cheap shot. His father didn't have logic or reason on his side and so he was resorting to petty insults.
"This isn't about me," he attempted to redirect but he could see his Dad's patience had worn out and now there was nothing but regret and frustration fueling whatever he was about to say.
" You've had months to get your act together, Lee. And so far, all you've been able to frakkin' do is complain and whine about how hard it is! Well, guess what? It's gonna get a lot harder! Do you understand me!?"
Lee looked up, meeting the indignation within his father's eyes.
"Dad, if this is about her, you're being incredibly selfish," he replied as coolly as he could.
"What?" Bill snapped.
"You know what I'm talking about, Dad," Lee pressed on. "If this is about going back for Laura you're losing your perspective big time."
"You're out of line, Lee," Bill nearly snarled.
Lee could tell he'd hit a nerve. Swallowing down his own irritations he attempted to temper his words.
"I know you two grew very close last year. I know you became used to her companionship, but-"
"You're accusing me of putting the fate of the Fleet on the line for my own needs?"
"I'm saying your heart is wrapped up in this because of one person in particular."
"Half my crew is down there, Lee! Saul and Ellen are there! Kara! My heart is wrapped up in every single one of them!"
"You can't admit that part of this is about the fact that you left Laura down there?" Lee continued to probe.
"I'd be prepping for a rescue mission whether she was down there or not," Bill returned. "Yes, I want her back. I want them all back."
"You don't have to admit the truth to me, Dad, but no matter how many drills you demand and no matter how hard you ride everyones' ass it wont change that we're running at half strength. There's only so much we can do. You're burning out all the crew we have," Lee continued even as his father turned away to shuffle papers upon his desk, leaving him to speak to his back. Feeling as if he had no other way to get through to him, Lee swallowed hard before going on. "You lost Zack during a viper drill gone wrong," he baited, letting the gutting statement hang heavy in the air for a long moment. "How could you be so reckless with the lives of the pilots we have left?"
Lee saw his father's shoulders stiffen as he paused in place.
"You're dismissed, Commander," Bill spoke without turning around.
He waited for the hatch to clang shut before violently shoving the contents of his desk to the floor of the ship.
NEW CAPRICAN CYLON ADMINISTRATIVE BUILDING;
OFFICE OF JOHN CAVIL
WEEK 42 OF CYLON OCCUPATION
As devastating and frightening as Saul's recent arrest had been, Ellen spent the following day unable to force herself to visit Cavil.
She was wracked with guilt. She couldn't eat, she couldn't sleep, her stomach was in knots and her hands trembled no matter how warm she tried to make the tent. She'd frakked everything up. There wasn't a choice left to make that wouldn't leave her feeling disgusted with herself. If she went to see the One she would be betraying her husband. If she chose not to, she knew she might be causing him even more suffering. Cavil had become accustomed to her visits and she understood that the longer she avoided going to him the longer Saul would be held. She feared the more time he was there the more time they would have to hurt him, to starve him and frak with his mind. She desperately wanted to get him out as fast as possible, but willingly walking into a situation where she knew she would be mentally and physically assaulted was becoming harder and harder each time.
It was hardly a choice at all anymore. Had it been someone else she'd have seen them as a victim being violated through blackmail, but when it came to her own culpability she told herself that she'd dug her way into the darkness on her own.
Nearly twenty hours after Saul's arrest the decision of whether or not to go had been taken away from her when an Eight showed up to her tent after curfew and quietly escorted her to Cavil's office.
"I want to know what happened to Roslin's baby!" John shouted in her face, fed up after interrogating her about the latest resistance attacks and getting nowhere.
"Why?" she yelled in return, turning her cheek in anticipation of a strike for her back-talk.
He didn't hit her but instead grabbed her by the wrist yanking her closer to him.
"Listen, Missy, do you want your husband out in one piece or not?" he threatened, his grip quickly intensifying.
"I don't know what you want me to say!" Ellen exclaimed.
"The child! What happened to him?"
"He didn't make it! He's dead!"
"You're sure about that?
"What do you mean?"
"I mean if I find out you're lying to me, someone's going to pay bigtime!"
"I'm not lying!" Ellen shrilly proclaimed. "For frak sake, I was there!"
"And?"
"And that poor child never took a breath!" Ellen roared in response, her anger and hatred for the cylon man surging out of her in the form of verbal rage. "Roslin was bleeding and by the time she got to Cottle it was too late! She had to deliver that baby knowing she'd already lost him. I was with her!"
Cavil glowered at her for a split second before he jerked her wrist, twisting it behind her back and pushing her forward.
"Ow! Frak you!" Ellen swore as he shoved her along toward his desk. "What the frak are you doing?!"
Without warning he took her other arm, forced it behind her and pushed her down over the top of the desk. Her cheekbone connected with the blotter as he jolted her into the solid surface; another bruise she would have to explain away.
"You better be telling me the truth, do you hear me?" Cavil warned, adding pressure to where he held her at her back.
"You're hurting me!" Ellen gritted, her cheek burning from the impact.
"Well now that's the point, isn't it?!"
"You little frakker, get off of me!" she swore as she began to struggle.
"Now, now that's not very nice, considering all that I've done for you," he mocked.
"Frak you!"
"Later," the One jeered, leaning forward and adding more and more of his body weight onto her back causing her lungs to strain to expand within her compressed rib cage. He took small delight in hearing her let out short stricken puffs of breath. He found her panic somewhat amusing as he recalled the contrasting serenity with which she would hum soothing lullabies to his brother Daniel ages before.
"What happened to the child?" John growled through a spurt of ancient resentment.
"He frakking died!" Ellen screeched, "I told you! Are you deaf?"
"And then what?"
"Huh?" she scowled into the desk, too flustered by pain and fear to fully follow the maniacal interrogation.
"My God, you are quite the dense bimbo this time around, aren't you?" John taunted before adding even more force to his compression of her torso. "What happened to the frakking body? It's missing!"
"Ow! It's not missing, you toaster moron!" Ellen ranted in return. "Roslin's a frakking Hellenic Caprican! The body was cremated in a pyre by the river. Look it up if you're so smart! It's Caprican culture. When babies or young children die they're supposed to be cremated before the sun sets the next day! I don't know why! Frakking old rituals! Now let me up!" she demanded.
He didn't but for a few moments the pressure slightly eased and she took in rapid breaths filling her air-starved lungs over and over.
"Who took the remains to the pyre?"
"I don't know," Ellen replied, causing him to shove down on her again. "Ow! Frak! I don't know! Stop it! I'm not gunna magically know just because you're leaning harder!"
"You said you were there!"
"I was there for her labor and delivery. I don't know who took the remains after that! All I know is that baby was born blue! It was awful. I've never seen something so heartbreaking, but at least the poor thing didn't have to live to know what it is to be here with the likes of you and the rest of your frakked up toaster family!"
"Family. Family, eh? You have no idea how rich that is coming from you!" John teased, unable to refrain from the insinuating ridicule despite knowing she wouldn't remember a damn thing.
"What?"
"Why were you with Roslin anyway?" he diverted.
"She needed some support. She has no family. The father-"
"Oh, I know about the father," John snickered behind her.
"You're sick!" Ellen seethed beneath his weight. She began to toil within his grip, no longer able to hold back her fierce will to fight against the restraint. "I've told you all I know. Let go of me!"
"Fine," John said, abruptly lifting his hold on her and taking a step back.
Ellen froze in place, surprised and distrustful of his sudden release. She half expected to be shoved back down as soon as she tried to stand up.
"Well, let's go. Move it," Cavil prodded.
He was getting nowhere and tormenting Ellen, though usually entertaining, was growing tedious in the late night hours.
Gingerly she stood and turned to face him.
"Can I go now?" she asked, hoping like hell that for once maybe he'd let her off the hook after all he'd put her through.
"Not so fast," he said with a wry smirk. "You want to get your husband out of lock-up, don't you? You know the standing price of his bail by now."
NEW CAPRICAN TENT CITY
DWELLING OF LAURA ROSLIN
WEEK 43 OF CYLON OCCUPATION
Laura wasn't having as much trouble following her recovery instructions and restrictions as Cottle and Tory had assumed. For the first few days it was purely due to exhaustion. She could do little but sleep, begrudgingly eat and fill bottles to be taken to Will. Depleted of energy, her physical activity was limited to walks to the showers and latrines exactly as advised.
She was too worn out to go against doctors orders at first. Once the exhaustion wore off it was the crushing depression, anxiety and unfathomable guilt that quickly settled in, confining Laura to her bed most of the time.
She slept to escape the internal berating that constantly cycled through her mind. She slept because the longer she was awake the more her baby felt like a distant dream. She slept to evade the shame she felt over the heartfelt condolences that she received from fellow citizens each time she walked to the showers.
Even through past bouts of grief, depression and a virtual nervous breakdown after the loss of her family, Laura had never really struggled with self hatred. She'd always maintained a decent level of confidence and self respect. In fact, she'd always rather liked who she was for the most part. It was a loathsome feeling to suddenly have so much anger toward herself and it was clouding her judgment so badly that she wasn't sure if maybe she'd been deserving of such self abasement for far longer than she'd realized.
It wasn't just the current elements at hand causing Laura to feel as if she were drowning in remorse, though her son's absence and Saul Tigh's latest arrest were certainly at the forefront of her inner reproach. There were other sins gone unrepented for that had begun to fester in her mind. Most notably there was Hera.
When Laura first returned to her tent from the clinic all she'd wanted was to be close to the little girl. She found an incomparable comfort with her nearby and a pure bond still untouched by the darkness of the outside world. That was until her guilt began to infiltrate even that which had been her solace. Now Laura couldn't get the girl's birth mother out of her mind. She was plagued by memories of the Eight, belly rounded and eyes full of fear sitting in the modified brig on Galactica, bound by chains fit for a rabid animal. She thought of the order she'd given to terminate the cylon woman's pregnancy, how she'd once sought to eliminate what was now so precious to her.
Laura thought of how the child's blood had been taken. Stolen from before ever taking a breath so that she could continue to live a life she'd hardly wanted any longer. Usually when Laura considered the event she felt such reverence and gratitude toward the little girl. It was a strange contrast to the resentment she often felt toward Baltar and even Cottle and Bill for forcing the remedy upon her. The conflicting duality of emotions had followed Laura since her cure but lately she felt nothing but shame when it came to her second chance at life. What was haunting her most of all was what had come after her recovery. What she'd once seen as a grueling decision made to protect her people and the hybrid child from known enemies now felt like blatant kidnapping. She'd inflicted inhumane torture on Hera's birth parents by making them believe that she was dead. Laura had thought she'd understood the gravity of what she'd done back then, but now she truly knew. All of the justification and rationalization that had always helped her feel assured that she'd made the best decision possible was suddenly useless against an inner admonishment that continued to push her down into a bottomless well of regret. Now she was a mother and just pretending that her son was dead was like a rusty barb through the heart. Now she knew that in a way she'd killed the Eight just as well as if she'd tossed her out of an airlock.
Bill would be disgusted if he ever found out, Laura told herself over and over again. Disgusted and enraged. He knew intimately the pain of grieving a child. She couldn't help but imagine his reaction to learning how she'd inflicted that pain on one of his men. It wasn't the only dark secret she'd held from him and she supposed that he never truly knew what she was capable of. No doubt he'd heard the rumors of her relationship with Adar early in her presidency and cast the gossip aside as tabloid fodder meant to sully her credentials. He probably thought her too dignified and ethical to ever imagine her as some power hungry bureaucrat's mistress. Bill's perceptions would implode crushing his heart under the debris if he ever learned the truth of how she'd frakked a married man for nearly a decade behind the backs of his wife and children. He thought he loved her, had confessed as much to her and now she felt as if she'd somehow conned him into the state of adoration he felt. She imagined his repulsion upon realizing that his innocent child had a kidnapper and a paramour for a mother.
Whatever love and reverence Bill had for her was built upon a false image of the woman he thought she was and she felt as unworthy of his affections as she did Hera's.
In the span of just a few days Laura had gone from craving the girl's company to hardly being able to look at her. She felt undeserving of the child's love and trust. Maya's too for that matter.
The young woman had become a true friend but Laura couldn't help but stew over the lie that friendship was built upon. The genuine nature of their relationship suddenly felt overshadowed by all the manipulation and dishonesty. She'd given Maya the baby to hide her, she'd offered her a job and a tent to keep her close. It no longer seemed to be enough that she truly cared for her. She didn't deserve her support and amity.
Unable to explain what was fueling her state of mind, Laura had begun to dismiss them, turning away friendly visits and offers of help. She just couldn't hold Hera in her arms and smell her hair and feel the warmth of her skin while knowing that somewhere her birth mother was still grieving over never once having the chance to do so. Whether or not Laura still believed she had done what was right for her people when it came to Hera, she was still disgusted with herself. Though she feared what the full penance of her sin would be, she felt that she ultimately deserved it. Any potential harm that might come to her son whether it be by environment, illness or cylon hands would be her fault in the end, her price to pay.
She felt so badly for him. She'd wanted someone to love, someone to live for. She just couldn't bring herself to destroy the chance that was given to her so unexpectedly, and yet bringing him into the world meant he would likely suffer in the name of her misdeeds. She was beginning to feel as though he would be better off without her forever.
Maya and Tory both noticed the drastic decline in Laura's demeanor.
"Ma'am if you're feeling…ill we should let Cottle know," Tory told her a few times during check-ins, passively letting her know that she could tell something was obviously off.
Laura denied feeling sick in any way, dismissing Tory's suggestion that she visit the clinic.
Maya was more upfront with her concern.
"Laura, I know that you're worried, sad and upset and I certainly don't blame you considering the circumstances, but I think you're going through more than that," she attempted at one point. "Depression is very common after childbirth. You don't have to suffer with it alone. Let's call Nurse Meri and talk to her," she'd encouraged, but Laura rejected the idea and declined the offers of help.
She didn't feel as if her thought process was irrational. As far as she was concerned it was all logical, miserable as it was. There was no changing it.
Unwilling to seek the assistance of her caregivers, Laura's state became even worse when a cylon Five came to see her.
"Seems as though there's quite a large memorial service planned for your boy," the clean cut skin-job mentioned during the unwelcomed visit.
Laura internally recoiled at the thought of the vigil. The looming event had become a large source of her anxiety. She couldn't stomach knowing how many people would be there praying for her supposedly dead son.
"You'll have to ask someone else about that," she'd curtly replied. "I won't be going."
"Ms. Roslin, I'll be frank and brief and then leave you for the time being," the Five stated.
"Thank the Gods for that," Laura acerbically returned.
The cylon's mouth went into a hard line, looking both unamused and irritated. Out of all of the skin-job models this one seemed the most robotic to her.
"Whether or not you intentionally had a hand in the death of your child you've lost something of great significance to the cylon and colonial races alike," he told her, his eyes filled with an accusatory disdain that told her he believed it was her fault either way it happened. She may not have killed her baby, but she'd failed to keep him alive and that was just as much of a crime as far as the cylons were concerned.
"At the very least you intentionally made sure that there was no way to even salvage any knowledge that could have been gained from the child's remains. There will be repercussions for this squanderous act of spite," the Five finished.
"My religion and traditions have nothing to do with spite," Laura sharply defended. "You honor your supposed God, I honor each of mine."
The cylon's brow arched at her pious pledge.
"You've been destructive in more ways than that as you continue to encourage the people in your charge to commit acts of terrorism," he added.
"There's no one in my charge except a tent full of school children," she insisted as she always did.
"No one believes that," he smirked in response. "They never have."
"This is hardly brief," Laura complained, reminding the cylon of his earlier intentions. "Are you finished?"
"I'm here to warn you that due to your continued harmful influence and negative impact on the future of New Caprican society a warrant for your arrest will likely be issued within the next few weeks."
"Why wait if I'm such a public menace?" Laura goaded, as if she weren't terrified at the prospect. "Why not take me now?"
"I'm not authorized to share that information. It could be tomorrow. It could be two weeks from now. If I were you I'd use whatever time you have to cut ties with your rebel comrades and begin encouraging your community to cooperate in a more positive way. If we can see the effort made on your part there's a chance the penalties for your crimes will be adjusted accordingly. If not, I suggest getting your affairs in order before the time comes."
Laura had a feeling that she should take the Five's suggestion seriously. There were some things she needed to do before they came to take her.
NEW CAPRICA SQUARE
PYRAMID COURTS
WEEK 43 OF CYLON OCCUPATION
"Hey!" a voice shouted from the Pyramid court as Tyrol trudged home alongside its bleachers. "Hey,Chief! Hold up!"
He looked over to see Duck Clellan abandoning his pick-up game and jogging toward him.
"What's up, LT?" he greeted the former pilot.
"Did'ya hear?" Duck asked while wiping some sweat from his brow with the back of his hand.
"Hear what?"
"Tigh's out."
Tyrol's eyes widened in surprise.
"Since when?"
No one had informed him.
He'd been up and out before sunrise, unable to sleep. After getting dressed he'd walked to Jake's dog bowl but found it upright, a sign there was no new intel from his informant. Deciding to walk off his frustrations he wandered the encampment aimlessly, taking account of half finished walkways, hazardous piles of abandoned lumber, neglected sanitation issues and countless other problems that plagued the makeshift city. Baltar had done nothing to improve matters. Though Tyrol hated to admit it, the cylons had done more to fix things than the current president ever had. At least they'd helped to keep the electric grid on more reliably and cleaned up some of the mining scrap. They were becoming more dependent on them each day. It was what they wanted.
"Anders just told me. Said he picked him up late last night," Duck recounted as he pulled off his gloves and shoved them into his pockets. "He said he had to help Ellen get him to Cottle. Says he's pretty frakked up."
"Damn it."
Tyrol was angry. Not because he figured that no one attempted to tell him, but because he realized that they probably had and he'd missed the message while roaming around all morning lost in thought.
"He was headed back to the med tent when I saw him. He'd just left to get them some coffee and pick up a few things from their place. Clothes for Tigh to head home in and stuff. Guess that's a good sign at least. If Cottle's already kicking him out then it can't be too serious."
"Shit," Tyrol swore, digging the heel of his boot into the dirt. "Yeah, I guess."
"Frakkin toaster scum," Duck said before spitting on the ground next to them. "I can't stand the sight of em, any of em."
Chief grimaced at the man's spitball but gave him a nod in agreement.
"Well, I've been wanting to talk to you about that, Duck," he began, taking the man's open expression of anger as an opportunity. "I appreciate you and Nora helping out with the mine access and all," he said, glancing around to make sure they were out of earshot of others.
"It's no problem," Duck insisted. "If we didn't want to help we'd move tents and let someone else live over the entry point. For now at least, it's fine. Glad to do what we can."
"You think you're up for something a little more tactile?" Tyrol asked, dropping his volume for the sake of discretion. "We could use you."
"You guys seem to be doing a pretty good job," Duck replied, with a dark chuckle.
"We're sure as hell trying, but I'd rather have some more trained guys for the next hit."
"I wish I could help ya, Chief. It's just…Nora. I can't do that to her right now. I promised her."
"She alright?"
"Yeah," Duck confirmed, giving a contrasting shrug. "It's just…we've been trying to have a baby since we got down here. Still hasn't happened, but when it does I don't want her worried every night that I'm not coming home to her. I told her those days were behind me once I hung up my flight suit. I can't go back on that."
"It's a hell of a time to have a kid, I'll tell ya," Tyrol groaned as he scratched at his beard.
"I know that. And so does Nora, but if not now, when? If we all just stop having families we'll just die out and let them win. Figure we gotta have something to keep fighting for. Can't just give up on life, ya know?"
"You're right, man," Chief conceded, feeling a little guilty for coming off as if he were judging the couple's choice. He really could use Duck's help but he wasn't ready to pressure anyone into risking their own skin. "I mean, good luck. I mean it."
"Yeah well, right now I need it. Nora's sour at me. She says I never go with her to Temple. She wants me to go to that prayer service they're having, but I said no. Just not my thing."
"Yeah. Me either," Chief snorted "Least not anymore. Why's Nora going anyways? I mean she knows-" he trailed off in insinuation.
"It's night one of Anthesteria," Duck reminded him.
"Oh right. Gods," Chief said with a huff, recalling a time when he would never have done something as blasphemous as forgetting a holy day. "Frak sake. How are we supposed to celebrate spring on a planet that hardly has one?"
"I dunno, man," Duck groaned as he stretched his arms behind his back. "Nora says she's going to pray for Roslin. She told me if we want one of our own we should show the gods that we're concerned about the ones who are already here."
"Guess she has a point," Chief replied. "If you believe that is."
Duck reached into his pockets taking his gloves back out.
"I just dont think asking the gods for anything is going to make a damn bit of difference," he said as he began to put them back on. "If it could, I'd be back on Picon right now watching a frakkin Panthers game with a cold beer in my hand."
"Amen," Chief jested.
"Anyway, I'm just gunna wait home for her and hope she gets over it."
"I hear ya. Cally's gunna go too. I plan to stay home on baby duty," Chief added, immediately regretting his words when Duck nodded with a halfhearted smile.
"Anyways, sorry I can't help you out, Chief."
"No. No worries, man," Tyrol told him. "You've both been a huge support so far. I get why you don't want to be on the frontlines. I know Cally wishes I'd do the same, but…"
"I gotta go tell these guys I'm done and go get some firewood," Duck said, thumbing back toward the friends he'd left behind on the court. "Hope the Colonel's okay. You take care, Chief," he bid him before jogging off.
"You too, Duck."
NEW CAPRICA; COLONIAL FLEET SHIP YARD
COLONIAL I
OFFICE OF PRESIDENT BALTAR
WEEK 43 OF CYLON OCCUPATION
Caprica let out a long wistful breath as she gazed through a porthole from her perch on the side of the bed.
"I am sorry for what's happened," Gaius softly spoke from where he kneeled on the mattress behind her, brushing her shoulder with his lips. "You do know that."
"Do I?" she replied, unconvinced by his display of sympathy.
She could tell he was mostly sober for once, but even so, it had been so long since she'd heard a genuine kind word from him.
"Whatever issues I've had with Laura Roslin or William Adama, I wouldn't wish this on either of them," he insisted. "It's a pity what's occured."
Caprica turned to face him. The seemingly sincere look of regret in his eyes sent a warm rush of relief through her body as she finally saw a glimpse of the man she loved. It was the reason she was never able to walk away. As consumed as he'd become by bitterness and substances she still believed that he was in there somewhere.
"D'Anna says that it's Roslin's own fault for not accepting our medical care. Do you believe that?" she tested, not proud of using the miserable lie to further gauge his sympathies.
"I'm not a physician, but it doesn't sound to me as if what transpired could have been prevented," he said with a shrug. "Honestly, I didn't expect that she'd carry the child to term. I told you that several times."
Caprica turned back to the porthole scanning the dismal city below.
"Her people- Your people are so devastated."
"Yes…Well, the loss of a wanted child is always difficult," he replied.
"It's as if the whole encampment is in mourning," she told him, glancing back over her shoulder.
"I see," Gaius said, rubbing at his stubbled jaw.
Caprica flinched at the flash of resentment she saw in his eyes. He might very well be sympathetic to the news of the loss of an innocent baby, but his selfishness and obsessive nature remained. It was the jealousy and bitterness he held in knowing Roslin had the support, compassion and attention of their people in a way he understood he was incapable of garnering.
"John and some of the others feel as though she destroyed the body intentionally," she added, biting at her lip.
Gaius was brilliant and he knew Roslin. Surely better than any of her brothers and sisters did. Caprica felt a small pang of guilt in lying to him and using him to test the strength of the cover story, but if he with all his intelligence believed it without question she felt confident that the others wouldn't soon be likely to question it either.
"Of course she did," he said with a grunt. "There's no doubt of that. The Exequies of Zagreus, the Caprican tradition of swift juvenile cremation is something Roslin would have practiced regardless, but you can be sure that they used the custom to their advantage in order to stop the cylons from getting a hold of the child's remains. Two things can be true at once."
"They're angry," Caprica breathily spoke as she looked back through the window at a low swooping raider.
"Everyone here is angry," he muttered, pinching at the bridge of his nose.
"Gaius?" Caprica said after a beat.
"Yes?"
"They're planning on taking Roslin into custody soon."
"For the bombings," he presumed.
Caprica turned her body on the bed to fully face him.
"That's what they're going to claim publicly, but they have a new plan for her," she began. Perhaps countering the secret that she was keeping by divulging another would grant her some slight sense of relief from the guilt she felt. "John has a new…plan."
Though he rarely paid her the attention she deserved Baltar knew the woman in front of him well enough to tell that she was genuinely disturbed by whatever she was referencing.
"What is it?" he asked, his brows knitted together in apprehension.
"They plan- They plan to harvest her ovum."
A deafening silence followed Caprica's words as Gaius stared at her mouth agape.
"What the frak did you just say?" he finally spoke, breaking the throttled hush.
"They want whatever ovum she has left in order to study it," Caprica expanded. "So that Simon can research the qualities and DNA structure."
Gaius looked at her with frozen horror; his jaw open and eyes wild and wide, once again silent in the face of what he'd just heard.
"Gaius?"
"They'll have to force her," he eventually answered, grimacing at his own disturbing summation. "She'll never agree to such a thing."
Caprica swallowed.
"I know that."
"That's as good as bloody rape!" he exclaimed, shooting up from his seat on the bed and beginning to pace before her.
"There's more," she told him, unable to look up at his manic treading.
Gaius paused in place for a moment.
"I don't think I want to know," he fretted. "Honestly, I think I'd rather not."
Caprica looked down at her hands. The need to unburden herself was so great. As starved for compassion and affection as she was, Gaius' rare display of concern had been more than enough to induce the flood of admissions and she couldn't hold back any longer. She had no one else to go to and she thought if he could just be her solace, her one true support, she wouldn't need or desire it from anyone else. If she decided to go through with what she was considering she knew that she might be running out of time to learn what it felt like to be truly cared for in return.
"John's angry that they didn't get to study the child," she attempted to go on, relieved when he didn't stop her. "He said the boy's genetic makeup might have led us to another way to blend human and cylon DNA without direct hybridization. He wants to study how your cancer cure changed Roslin physically and he wants to take her eggs in order to attempt to create another baby to study."
"Good Lords," Gaius uttered, running his fingers through the crown of his unwashed hair in distress.
"I think he feels as though Roslin owes this," Caprica continued to explain. "He believes she's the reason Sharon's hybrid baby is dead. I think he feels like Roslin's ability to pass on cylon DNA is a fate bestowed on her as a repercussion and a sort of compensation for the cylon race. He feels she stole something from us and now he's going to take it back, or at least the closest thing possible."
"He wants to steal her eggs and conceive another child?" Gaius recounted in disbelief.
"Yes," Caprica confirmed. "Using a surrogate."
"Who?"
"I'm not sure. John says he wants a young and healthy Colonial woman to carry the baby. I presume it will be a female already in custody."
"This is abhorrent," Gaius responded, massaging the acute sudden tension at his temples.
"I don't like the idea any more than you do, but I've been outvoted."
"You people are sick! Growth in science should not come at the frakking expense of women's bodies. Innocent or guilty. And who do they plan to father this child?"
"I assume a Colonial male either detained or on cylon payroll," Caprica considered. "Unless…"
"Oh for frak sake!" he exclaimed with a horrified expression. "You can't be serious!"
"You weren't mentioned, but you are one of the few Colonial men in close allegiance with the cylons."
"Because I'm bloody forced to be! This is insane! I won't do it! I won't! I refuse! They can kill me if they want."
"I think-"
"I mean for the love of the Gods, this is a nightmare! Day in and day out! It never ends!"
"I'm considering-"
"I mean there's only so much abuse a man can take, I tell you!"
"Gaius!"
"What?"
"I think…I think I'm going to warn Laura Roslin."
Gaius stood staring at her for a moment as if he hadn't quite understood what she'd said.
"Warn her," he echoed as her words finally began to sink in.
Moving as quickly on foot as she'd ever seen him, he darted toward the curtains of his quarters pulling them aside.
"There's no one out there," she told him as she watched him lean out to assess as much.
If she'd expected any nearby security or lingering staffers she would have never dared to speak on the subject, but she knew the habits and the schedules of everyone around him. His security had consisted of only New Caprican Police for months and they'd swiftly learned their lesson to stay out of earshot of the president's private quarters.
Appeased, Gaius sharply shut the drapes and turned to face her again.
"What you're considering," he began as he looked at her with heavy doubt in his eyes, "it won't stop this travesty, will it?"
"No. But perhaps she can prepare herself. Perhaps she can decide to do it willingly."
"Not a chance in hades!" Gaius scoffed. "If you knew her at all you'd know how absurd you sound."
"I just think she deserves to know what's coming."
"And if you're found to be the one who alerted her and it leads to retaliation from the resistance fighters? Then what?"
Caprica licked at her lips and blinked slowly against the ache of exhaustion in her eyes.
"I think the gratitude over my success in the demise of the Colonies has run out. It won't protect me any longer. I'll be charged with treason and I'll likely be boxed."
"Boxed?"
"They'll destroy this body and then…Then my consciousness will be taken offline and stored away, unable to download into another one."
"My Gods," Gaius gasped. "If it's going to happen with or without you warning Roslin then why risk your life?"
"You just said you'd rather they kill you than involve you in this!" Caprica retorted.
"I was speaking in theory, mostly," he weakly justified.
Caprica frowned and let out a long sigh.
"It won't be my first sin against my own kind," she said with a resigned shrug of her shoulders. "She deserves to know…She needs to know."
"Don't forget that this woman hates you. She hates you and everything that you are. You'll be risking your existence for her."
"I know that she hates me, Gaius," Caprica regretfully admitted. Cylophobe or not she'd become strangely enamored with Laura Roslin over the past months. At first it was the quiet dignity that the former president maintained even under the harshest conditions, but as Caprica spent more time with Roslin during her pregnancy her fascination grew. She'd come to look at the Colonial woman as sort of an emblematic embodiment of motherhood, femininity and fertility. She was captivated by the idea even while Roslin herself seemed reluctant to it. Caprica couldn't help that she'd come to admire her and though it hurt to understand that the woman saw her as nothing but a toaster monster in return she also knew that didn't mean she should suffer for it. Not warning her of the violation that was coming had to be a sin in the eyes of God no matter what her siblings thought. "That doesn't matter to me. How she feels about me doesn't have anything to do with why I want to try to help her. I wish you could understand that. I'm sorry that you don't, but that's something I've accepted about you. I hope you'll accept the part of me that knows what I need to do."
"So you've made up your mind then?" Gaius said, nearly choking on his words. "That's it?"
"Yes," Caprica replied, her downcast eyes finally looking up at him. "I think so."
Gaius palmed his forehead and resumed his pacing. As he rushed to and fro Caprica watched his bare feet upon the rug. He'd survived losing her once before with little trouble. She was sure that he could endure it again. Selfishly, imagining his perseverance hurt more than picturing him grieving.
"Caprica?" he said, pausing in his tracks.
For a moment she felt strange and she realized it was because of how rarely he actually used her new name.
"Yes?"
"I know that I haven't treated you well," he admitted, taking a few steps closer to where she sat. "And I know that I'm guilty of taking you for granted on the best of days," he went on, gently reaching out to lift her chin with the tips of his fingers so that she was looking up into his eyes. "I haven't been myself here. I haven't been myself for some time and I am sorry for that," he told her. "As poor as my behavior toward you may be at times, I don't want to lose you. Not again."
She was the only soul left who truly cared for him and loved him. The thought of being alone without a single ally in the world made his stomach sink.
"I don't want to lose you again either, Gaius," she returned. "I want to be with you, I want your love…
But I want God's love more."
NEW CAPRICAN COLONIAL TENT CITY;
DWELLING OF SAUL & ELLEN TIGH
WEEK 43 OF CYLON OCCUPATION
"How's he doing?" Cally asked as her son wiggled in her arms where they stood beside the Tigh's kitchen table.
Her concern for the Colonel was genuine but she couldn't help that his wife's appearance had her visibly distracted.
"Not good," Ellen answered, doing her best to avoid eye contact with the young woman who was clearly observing the bruising on her face. "They beat the hell out of him this time. It's his back. He can hardly get up."
"Gods. I'm so sorry," Cally winced. "Shouldn't he be at the med tent then?"
"We were there," Ellen sighed. After Saul's late-night release Sam had helped her take him in. The doctor kept him overnight, just long enough to hydrate him and patch him up. As much as Ellen protested they were on their way home soon after the sun came up. "They can't do much else for him. Cottle gave him something for the swelling. They think he cracked a few ribs."
"Frak," Cally swore. "You don't look so good yourself, no offense," she observed, unable to ignore the obvious any longer. "What happened?"
"I tripped drunk and fell," Ellen answered with an exaggerated shrug, quickly turning to fidget with a small pile of unfolded laundry that sat on the table. "I was upset about Saul. It's fine now," she dismissed, rolling up a pair of Saul's socks. "It's my own damn fault."
"Ouch," Cally cringed, as the baby began to fuss.
"Here," Ellen said, dropping a half folded tea towel and reaching her arms out. "Let me take him for a sec."
"Thanks," Cally smiled, passing the baby over.
"Hello, sweet boy," Ellen murmured against the baby's cheek, giving him a tight squeeze.
After an awful few days it felt good to cuddle him again.
"Listen, Nick's part of why I'm here," Cally began while Ellen patted his back to calm him. "I know it's not the best time and all, but I really need a favor."
"Cally-" Ellen attempted in a cautioning tone, sure of what was coming next.
"Can you take Nicky tomorrow?" Cally pleaded with her hands together before Ellen could finish her warning. "Just for the morning?"
"No, Cally. I can't," Ellen answered as firmly as she could manage with the baby cradled to her chest. "You know I always want to help you with him when I can but I just can't do it right now. Saul needs me."
"Please? I wouldn't ask considering everything, but Sam needs me for something important. He says it's time sensitive," Cally appealed. "I told him I didn't want to ask you because of the Colonel but he said you'd do it if I said it was for him."
"Oh he did, did he?" Ellen snarked with narrowed eyes. She'd been so thankful to Sam for staying up all night with her during Saul's stay at the clinic and for making sure they were settled in after his release. Now she wanted to knee him in the groin. He knew how exhausted she was and how much Saul needed her help. "That frakking frakker."
"It's just a few hours," Cally continued trying to convince her. "Two or three tops. I promise. He'll probably just nap the whole time. Won't you, Nicky?" she teased as the baby's whining turned into soft coos.
"Cally," Ellen sighed, trying to find some energy left to stand her ground.
"I don't trust him with anyone else. He's used to you. Galen's busy. Please?"
"Frak. Fine!" Ellen snapped, feeling awful when the baby flinched at the volume of her frustrations. "Two hours."
Cally smiled in relief.
"Thanks so much, Elle. I owe you."
"Yeah," Ellen scoffed, as she shifted Nicky in her arm so she could see his little face better. "I've been hearing that a lot lately."
"Listen," Cally began, her tone suddenly shifting. "That's not the only reason I came. I was just with the President."
"Baltar?" Ellen grimaced.
"No. Sorry," Cally corrected, shaking her head at her own error. "I meant Roslin. I had to do a bottle drop off at her tent."
"Oh," Ellen replied, recalling that she hadn't seen Laura in nearly a week. "Did she seem okay to you?"
"No," Cally answered with a regrettable frown. "Not really."
"Gods," Ellen winced at the thought of what Laura had to be going through.
"I think maybe she's got the baby blues. Ya know? Like hormonal depression or something."
"Yeah…I know. I've heard from Tory Foster. I just haven't had time to check in."
"Plus," Cally added. "I guess she got a visit from a couple of toasters last night making threats. At least that's what I heard from Tory earlier when she came over to tell us the Colonel was out."
"Frak," Ellen winced.
She figured it was only a matter of time before they took Laura and with Saul out they'd likely go for her soon.
"Anyway, Roslin asked me to tell you that she wants to see you."
"Why?" Ellen asked, looking over her shoulder at the crack in the drapes that separated their bedroom from the rest of the tent. Saul seemed to still be sleeping. "Now?"
"I dunno. She didn't say why. She just asked me to get you. She said as soon as possible. Sorry."
"Okay. Alright. Here, take him" Ellen said, passing the baby back to his mother. "I'll see you two tomorrow."
"Thanks, Elle. I really do owe you."
"Yeah, yeah," she dismissed, waving off the pair as they left her tent. "See you later."
NEW CAPRICAN CYLON MEDICAL CENTER
WEEK 43 OF CYLON OCCUPATION
It was the first time that Kara had been let out of her prison flat since she was abducted. As Leoben walked her handcuffed from one building to another flanked by a mix of centurions and armed New Caprian police she remembered a time when she'd transported cylon prisoners through the halls of Galactica in much the same fashion. As they shuffled her along from the prison to the cylon hospital Kara felt no guilt, no sense of irony in the matter. All she could focus on was how good it was to feel the breeze on her cheeks after so long.
The open air was gone far too soon as she was marshaled into the medical building.
Leoben had the police escorts disband along with all but one centurion who continued to follow them closely, its mechanized hand clicked into a drawn weapon aimed at Kara's back.
When they came to a waiting area outside of a set of double doors she had no choice but to do as she was told and sit beside her captor.
"What the frak am I here for?" she asked the Two after nearly twenty minutes of waiting in silence.
Leoben turned to her, intently fixing his gaze to hers before giving her a faint smile.
"It's just a routine exam," he claimed. "I want to make sure you have access to proper healthcare."
"Suddenly you care about my health?" Kara scoffed.
Something was up. She knew it. The cylons never did anything that didn't serve them.
"Of course I do. I care about every aspect of your life Kara," he said, placing his hand on her thigh. "Body and soul."
"I don't want a toaster examining me," she replied, looking down at where he touched her leg with an expression of disgust.
"Your Colonial doctors are ill equipped at the moment. We have all that we need here; high tech equipment, clean environment, functioning laboratories. You're better off."
"I doubt that," she muttered, pushing his hand off with her still bound wrists.
Leoben frowned in a mix of disappointment and irritation.
"Just relax. Everything will be fine," he told her in a soft yet cold tone, but his encouragement and reassurance did nothing but send a shiver up her spine.
They both looked up as the double doors suddenly pushed open.
"Sorry for the wait," Simon greeted.
"Oh no!" Kara shouted, shooting up out of her seat causing Leoben to quickly follow. "Not him! Not that motherfracker again!"
Leoben held a hand up to halt the alert of the centurion as it raised its pistoled fingers.
"It's good to see you again, Kara," the Four grinned.
"Frak you!"
"Kara," Leoben warned with a hand to her shoulder, "it's best if you calm down."
"Don't you tell me to calm down! This bastard drugged me and stole a frakkin organ out of me!"
After Kara's return from Caprica and her stay at the cylon Farm, Cottle had found that her right ovary was indeed missing. The discovery wasn't a shock. Back at the Farm she'd overheard the Four imply as much; telling a Six that he planned to take the second one pending some test results. It was the catalyst that sent her escape from the hospital of horrors into action.
After Cottle confirmed what was done and her mission was fully debriefed Kara had done her best to block it all out, but the scar on her belly and the fact that her cycle only came every other month since the violating operation served as a constant reminder.
"I'm not here to hurt you, Starbuck," Simon alleged.
"That's what you said last time! And don't frakkin call me that, alright!?"
"Kara, Simon is just going to do a simple exam and some lab work," Leoben explained, continuing his attempt to diffuse her agitation. "It'll all be over in no time if you'll just cooperate."
"Not a frakkin chance!" Kara proclaimed.
She didnt care if there was one bullethead ready to shoot her or ten. She wouldn't let him touch her without a fight.
"Well then," Simon sighed, looking over at Leoben. The Two paused for only a moment before giving the cylon doctor what looked like a reluctant nod. "I didn't want to have to do this."
"Do wha-" Before Kara could finish Loben had her in a firm hold from behind. "You frakking bastards! What are you doing!?"
With her hands still cuffed her struggle to break free of the cylon's arms was futile.
"You just relax and it'll all be over once you wake up," Simon said as he pulled a syringe from his white coat pocket and uncapped it with his teeth.
"Get away from me you-" Kara felt the needle go into her neck and a rush of warmth spread up into her jaw and ear. As it all went numb her vision went dark.
Leoben grunted as her body went limp in his arms.
"I'll be right by your side when you wake up," he pledged as she drifted into unconsciousness.
Simon reached to find her pulse feeling it slow beneath his fingers as the tension left her body.
"Let's get her to an exam room. We have a lot to get done."
NEW CAPRICAN COLONIAL TENT CITY
DWELLING OF LAURA ROSLIN
WEEK 43 OF CYLON OCCUPATION
"Laura?" Ellen Tigh's voice called out through the heavy canvas.
"Just a minute," Laura replied, gingerly making her way to the entrance.
She was relieved that Ellen had responded so quickly to her request, but upon opening her tent flap she was immediately dismayed over the sight of the poor woman. Nearly a third of her face was bruised again from her right brow across to her cheekbone. She had dark circles under her sullen tired eyes and a swollen upper lip that added to the upsetting appearance of the typically bright and bubbly blonde.
"Gods, Ellen," Laura gasped, taken by surprise over her appearance. "What happened?"
"Can we go in?" Ellen asked, glancing side to side at their surroundings.
"Of course," Laura complied, stepping inside to allow her to enter.
Ellen made her way into the tent, stopping before she made it very far. She didn't plan on staying long.
"Are you okay?" Laura cringed, obviously assessing her injuries.
Ellen crossed her arms and sighed as if annoyed by the concern.
"I tripped," she lied for about the tenth time since last fleeing Cavil's office. She wished like hell that the bastard would at least stop leaving such obvious marks on her that she had to explain away. Each time she walked home from one of their encounters, sore and aching in places no one could see, she had to concoct another bullshit story to answer for the visible bumps and bruises. "I was upset about Saul. I was drinking. I got up to head to the latrines in the middle of the night. The tent was dark and I was hammered. I just tripped. Like an idiot. It's fine."
"You're sure?" Laura scowled.
Ellen felt her skin unexpectedly tingle with goosebumps as she recognized the look of obvious disbelief on Laura's face. No one else had seemed to think twice about her story. It fit the way most people thought of her after all. For once in her life Ellen supposed her reputation was serving her, providing a generally plausible excuse, but for some reason Laura Roslin looked clearly unconvinced.
"Yes," Ellen asserted. "I'm sure."
"But…that's what happened the last time," Laura recalled with a curious tilt of her head. "Isn't it?" she tested, recalling the day she'd dragged Ellen to her tent, dazed, exhausted and clearly injured.
A strange inkling quivered in Laura's gut. Something seemed off.
"Yeah. I did it again," Ellen shrugged. "Look, I know the booze doesn't help matters. You don't have to tell me," she performed, rolling her eyes in a display of irritation.
The two looked at one another for a moment more before Laura finally nodded. Ellen couldn't tell if she'd accepted her story as the truth or if she'd decided that she just didn't care enough to continue probing. Either way she was glad to move on.
"How is Saul?" Laura asked, apprehensive of the answer after what she'd heard earlier from Tory and Cally.
"Not well. He's got a cracked rib or two. His back is bruised all over," Ellen listed, squeezing her eyes shut against the sting of new tears. "Cottle had to put some stitches in his lip. He's home now but he's in bed."
"They're getting more and more violent," Laura winced.
"No shit," Ellen snipped in frustration. "They were interrogating him about everything from the fueling station fires to the baby. He'll never talk. He won't and eventually they'll just keep going until-"
"Ellen," Laura halted the morbid rant with a slight shake of her head.
Ellen crossed her arms and let out an exasperated breath. Whether she said the words aloud or not it was still the truth and for a moment she resented Laura for stopping her.
"What about you?" she frowned. "I heard they were here."
Laura swallowed against the memory of the cylons threats, but so far that's all they were and when it came to direct bodily harm Saul Tigh was the one seeing their warnings come to fruition.
"Only one came in here. They didn't touch me," she answered, leaving it at that.
Ellen nodded, both relieved to hear it and conversely resentful that out of the two leaders Saul was bearing the brunt of the cylon's brute force. It wasn't that she wanted to see Laura hurt instead. It was all just all becoming unbearable. Seeing her husband battered and punished for his suspected leadership and then being coerced into unspeakable acts was becoming a living hell and Ellen felt her patience for others being drained more and more each day.
"I should get back to him. He can't even walk to the latrines without help," Ellen said, kneading at her aching neck. "What about you? Did you need something?" she asked, remembering that she'd been summoned there.
Laura's mouth suddenly went dry.
Ellen Tigh hardly looked in any shape to help another soul and Lords knew she had her plate full with her husband's injuries but Laura needed her. She was the only one who could help.
"Yes," she replied in a strained whisper.
Ellen grimaced at what seemed to be a sudden change in Laura's demeanor.
"What's wrong?"
"Ellen, I need another favor."
"You too?" Ellen snorted, recalling her promise to watch Nicky. Why did it feel like everyone wanted or needed something from her now that she had nothing left to give, she thought to herself. "What kind of favor?"
"Ellen," Laura hesitated, attempting to lick her parched lips before she continued. What she was about to ask went against every part of her better judgment, but somehow she felt Ellen would understand. "I need to see him."
"Saul?"
"No."
Ellen's eyes went wide at Laura's response, realizing in an instant what she was asking.
"No, Laura," she answered. "I'm sorry I can't help you."
"You know where he is. You told me so."
"I shouldn't have. I'm not even supposed to know."
"But you do."
"And he's fine. I promise."
Laura's next words caught in her throat before she could reply. She closed her eyes, thumbing at the near constant tension in her forehead.
"I can't stand it, Ellen," she managed to say once she'd gathered her voice. "It almost feels like it was all a dream. Like he's not even real. Whenever I wake up and remember he's gone it feels like he's being taken away all over again…I don't think I can bear it much longer. If I could just see him once and see for myself that he's okay, maybe I could make it through this."
"You will make it through this," Ellen insisted. "Of course you will. You'll do it for him. You've already endured so much for him. You can do this."
Laura shook her head in denial.
"I need to see him, Ellen."
"Laura, it's too frakking risky. You hid him for a reason. You'd be compromising everything. You're supposed to be in mourning. Besides that, Cottle and Meri told you to stay put for two weeks. They said eat, sleep and pump those frakkin melons of yours. That's it. No long walks, no heavy lifting or extra stress. Nothing that could setback healing and cause an infection or a new bleed. If you get sick or something happens to you then he doesn't eat. Think about that."
"Of course I've thought about that, Ellen, but if I could just know and see where he is-"
"It will make it even worse! Laura, once you know where he is it'll be like a frakking magnetic force for you. Do you really think your need to touch and feel and feed him is going to decrease once you see him? No! Of course not. It'll become even stronger. What if you can't stay away once you know?"
"But I will," Laura maintained. "I know how serious this is. I understand the risks. Ellen, please? I need to be able to function to survive this. I can't keep going without knowing where he is, without seeing for myself that he's alive and well."
"I promise you that he is. Saul and Sam and Tory, they've each promised you. They can't keep their promises if you compromise everything they've put in place," Ellen rationalized. "This is crazy. You're not okay, Laura," she accused. She'd heard enough from Tory about Laura's emotional state over the past week. When Cally voiced her concerns as well Ellen had realized how bad it probably was, but she'd never expected that she'd find the ever pragmatic Laura Roslin acting so unreasonably reckless. "You need to reach out to Cottle or Nurse Brigid. You're not thinking clearly!"
Ellen's words didn't phase Laura one bit. She'd made up her mind. Maybe her son would be better off without her, but she needed to see him once more before she completely died inside.
"Ellen, he doesn't feel like he's mine anymore," she pitifully appealed, her voice laced with the pain of her confession. "For the briefest of moments when I held him in my arms it started to sink in that I'm his mother, but…I'm starting to forget what that even felt like. I'm afraid it's going to fade away all together."
"Gods, Laura," Ellen hiccuped.
Her tears were falling too fast to keep up with wiping them away. She felt gutted by Laura's misery but so angry that she was putting her in such a compromising position.
"I just want to see him once more."
"I just got Saul back. He's not well."
"I know. I know and they're going to take me next, Ellen and they're angry. The truth is the next time they take me in they may not let me go. I'm afraid I'll never see my son again."
"Did they say that?" Ellen wept. "Are you going to be taken?"
"I don't know how much time I have left," Laura answered. "If they decide not to let me out…"
"I can't bring you there, Laura!" Ellen shouted on impulse, rubbing at her eyes until she began to see stars behind her lids.
"That's okay. I understand. I do. Just tell me where to go. I'll go myself."
Ellen's hand dropped to her lips and she bit down on her thumb as if the pain would ground her, as if it would stop her heartstrings from being pulled upon by every dismal sentence Laura uttered.
"Saul will kill me. And then Sam will have Cottle revive me so he can have a turn killing me."
"I swear to you, I'd never out you to them."
"Laura-"
"I'm begging you, Ellen. Do you understand that? I'm begging you. There's that godsdamn vigil for him tomorrow night. Every time I step out of here to go to the latrines people come up to me and say how sorry they are that he died and it's starting to feel like he really did. I keep having to remind myself it isn't true. You're right. I'm not doing well. I feel like I'm losing my mind, Ellen. I'm afraid that I might. Please?" Laura appealed once more.
"Frak! Fine! Godsdamn it!" Ellen shrilly swore with clenched fists as her resistance came crumbling down at their feet. "Fine!"
Laura felt her stomach drop at the outburst. She knew that she should feel terrible for driving the poor women to such a response, but her determination was overpowering her compunction.
"Really?" she whispered.
"I have Nicky tomorrow," Ellen glowered as she begrudgingly planned the endeavor, "You can come on a walk with us."
"Gods, thank you, Ellen. Thank you so much," Laura said as she moved forward to take her hand, but Ellen pulled away from her.
"I have to go," she said, spurning Laura's expressions of gratitude and turning to make her way toward the exit.
She was infuriated over Laura's exploitation of her sympathy but she was more angry at herself for succumbing to it.
Laura nodded in understanding. She was too overwhelmed at the prospect of Ellen's agreement to be distracted by the resentment it was causing her.
"I'll see you in the morning. Be ready at ten," Ellen muttered before slipping outside.
NEW CAPRICA; COLONIAL TENT CITY
WEEK 43 OF CYLON OCCUPATION
"Here," Ellen said without a greeting as she held out a small covered container.
Right at ten as promised she'd arrived at Laura's tent.
She stood with the vessel in one hand as the other patted at a large awkward bulge in her coat. It took Laura a moment to notice the Tyrol baby's hooded head sticking out above her zipper.
"What is this?" Laura replied as she reached to take it, finding it warm to her always freezing fingers.
"Oatmeal," Ellen answered, glancing around in observance of who might be witnessing their interaction.
"Oh. You didn't have to-"
"We're coming in," Ellen announced before sliding past Laura and entering without invitation.
Laura followed her inside, unbothered by the abrupt entry. It was obvious that Ellen didn't want to be there and she didn't really blame her. As angry as she'd seemed with her a day ago she was a little surprised at the gesture.
"I appreciate the breakfast," she said, turning to find Ellen unzipping her coat and adjusting the sling wrap underneath that held Nicky to her body. "I'm just not very hungry."
She had no appetite over the last few days. She made herself eat enough so that she could continue to nourish her son for as long as she was free, so that she wouldn't fail him in yet another fashion, but it was becoming harder and harder to get anything down.
"You should eat it anyway," Ellen shrugged. "When Cally started nursing Nick that's what Raya told her to eat every day for breakfast, or whenever she could get some."
"Raya?"
"The old Gemeniese woman I told you about," Ellen reminded Laura before pausing to tighten the wrap. "The one who helped me make you that broth."
"Oh. Right. Yes. I remember."
"She told Cally oatmeal would increase her milk supply. And this little man just gets heavier and heavier every day so it sure seems like it works."
"I appreciate you bringing it," Laura said, looking down at the container.
As it warmed her hands she was reminded of all Ellen had done for her, of what she was still doing for her and how she would never be able to repay her.
"Yeah, well, don't thank me yet. I originally made it for Saul this morning. He says it's lumpy as hell," Ellen warned, rolling her eyes. "But, lumps or not, it should still work for what you need it for."
"Thank you….and thank you for agreeing to-"
"Don't thank me for this, Laura," Ellen warned. "As far as either of us are concerned after this morning, this didn't happen. I didn't bring you anywhere. I didn't tell you jack shit. We went on a walk with Nicky."
"Right," Laura nodded.
Ellen zipped up her jacket over the sling and secured the baby's hood over his head.
"Let's just go."
The two women walked through the encampment with a doleful air between them. It wasn't tense or hostile, but it was heavy with a mutually understood feeling of acrimony that they both knew they would never have the time or energy to repair.
A few times Laura was stopped by fellow citizens offering their condolences only to be chased off by Ellen's stern interjections.
"President Roslin isn't feeling well. We have to be on our way," she curtly told at least three different people.
Laura would have been irritated by her lack of tact, but she found herself too consumed with their destination to care.
They meandered up and down tent rows and cut-throughs, careful not to take anything close to a direct route. It wasn't until they were half way there that Ellen realized how much walking her paranoid path had added to their trek as Laura began to slow down.
"Are you okay?" she tested, easing her pace to match.
"I'm fine," Laura claimed, keeping her eyes forward.
"You're still sore," Ellen guessed, flinching over the fact that she hadn't taken Laura's condition into account.
She'd just wanted to get it over with and get back to Saul.
"Yes," Laura admitted. "It's getting better but everything seems to flare up when I'm on my feet too long."
"We can stop and rest if you're in pain," Ellen offered.
"It's not that," Laura insisted. "Not yet at least. I just couldn't sleep last night."
She was in pain but more than that she was fatigued. Convinced it was likely her last chance, Laura was desperate to see her son.
She had begun to resign herself to resuming an existence of loss and loneliness for however long the cylons kept her alive. She hated how easy it felt to sink back into that state. It made her angry that the sense of love and nearness she'd experienced for months while carrying Will had felt so alien to her and yet solitude felt as familiar as an old worn shoe. As exhausted as she had been,, sleep wouldn't come while she waited for morning thinking about what it was going to be like to see her baby again, possibly for the final time.
"You've gotta pull yourself together after this, Laura," Ellen spoke in a hushed but agitated tone as they walked on. "For frak sake. Maya and Tory are worried about you and you won't let them help," she accused, ignoring Laura's side-eyed glare. "I know the situation is awful and I understand that I can't begin to know how it feels but you've gotta get a grip if you're gunna get through this. Women battle depression after giving birth in the best of circumstances. It's no wonder you're a
mess with all you've had to endure, but you need to get help now before they take you," she finished.
"That isn't what this is about, Ellen," Laura contended. "I know how to live with depression well enough," she said with a bleek finality.
"Yeah," Ellen mumbled as they turned down a new row. "Same here."
They walked a while longer passing the pyramid courts and the front entrance of the market. A few times they stopped when Ellen noticed Laura attempting to disguise expressions of discomfort.
"I know what you look like when you're in pain," Ellen flatley reminded her while they took a short pause.
"It's just some slight cramping," Laura alleged before they continued on.
It was a while before Ellen finally spoke up again.
"I want you to promise me that you'll reach out to Meri tomorrow and get some godsdamn help," she began, knowing they were nearing their destination and it would be her final opportunity.
"I'm fi-"
"Frak that, Laura," Ellen swore in a wave of resentment and frustration. She'd gone out of her way to help this woman for months out of compassion and concern, all while knowing Laura probably didn't give a damn about her in return. She didn't even mind that part, she'd never asked for her friendship, but the least Laura could do at this point was placate her simple request. "I'm doing you a favor. Do one godsdamn thing for me, will ya?" she pressed, stopping her steps and reaching out to grab Laura by the wrist. "Promise me."
Laura's cheeks began to burn and she didn't exactly know whether it was out of shame or anger. She didn't want to agree to something she knew would be a lie, but she had a one track mind and all she could think about was getting to see her son. When it became clear that Ellen had no intention of continuing until she complied she finally agreed with a nod.
With an exasperated and unconvinced huff Ellen resumed their journey.
For a while more they continued in the same dispirited silence they'd bagan in. At the midpoint of a crowded row Ellen took hold of Laura's elbow and pulled her off to the side of the walkway, out of the way of the foot traffic of busy citizens.
"We're here," she told her.
"We are?" Laura replied, anxiously surveying their surroundings. "Where?"
"Right there," Ellen answered, discreetly tilting her head in the direction of the foster home. "The little house."
Laura's focus finally zeroed in on a small shanty home, constructed with a combination of building materials. Outside sat a boy and a girl playing at the feet of two women, one of which was bouncing a toddler on her knee. The other was gently rocking a covered pram back and forth.
Her throat instantly seized up with a sharp stabbing pain that caused her eyes to water.
"Just stay by my side," Ellen whispered, offering Laura her hand to take. "We'll bring Nicky over to say hi so you can see inside the carriage. Then we keep walking. Got it?"
Unable to take her eyes off of the sight, Laura heard the plan echo within her ears. She felt herself nod in agreement as Ellen gave her hand a gentle squeeze before pulling her further down the path.
It was as if nothing else existed around them. Laura could only see the baby buggy rolling to and fro. The usual noises of the city were absent to her ears and everything around her sounded muffled and far away except for Ellen's voice.
"Okay. That's the foster family," Ellen said when they were just a few tents away. "They usually have the kids out playing in the afternoon unless it's raining. I pass by here on walks with Nicky sometimes and they're always friendly. The one with the braids is Petra. I can never remember the wife's name. We'll just say, hello, I'll make some small talk and you'll have a look. Ready?"
Laura opened her mouth as if she were about to say something but before she could the high-pitched cries of a newborn began to emanate beneath the visor of the carriage. The tiny shrieking sound hit her ears like a bolt sent from Zues. She froze in place as the woman who had been rocking the pram stood from her chair and leaned over pulling back its cover. With a sweet smile she spoke over the infants wailing to comfort him.
"It's alright little Atlas," Laura heard the women say.
As the baby's cries became louder Laura's body innately responded. Her breast immediately began to tingle and she broke into a cold sweat. In an instant her milk let down wetting her sweater as she watched the woman reaching into the carriage to scoop her arms around the bleating bundle. Before the woman could lift him above the cover Laura turned away, taking off back down the path they'd come from.
"Laura?" Ellen called after her.
She was racing down the row at a speed double what they'd taken there.
Bracing her arms around the sling Nicky hung from Ellen rushed after her.
"Laura, what the hell are you doing?" Ellen griped once she caught up to her. "We were there. I told you to stay with me."
"I'm sorry, Ellen," Laura answered, keeping up her hurried pace despite the tears streaming down her cheeks. "You were right. This was a mistake. I shouldn't have done this. I'm sorry."
"Laura, wait!" Ellen attempted to grab for her arm, but Laura slipped from her grip.
Ellen stopped her chase, letting Laura continue her frantic and sudden escape.
As she walked along, her arms wrapped around the sleepy baby she held, her anger began to surge. It heated her chest and face as she attempted to keep track of Laura's russet mane, watching her weave through the encampments' busy morning shuffle.
She'd left her injured husband's side for this. She'd hauled Nicky out during his naptime, put her own well-being on the line and for what? Now she had to go after a manic Laura Roslin. Her life had always been various levels of chaotic but now it was getting nearly impossible to navigate. It was as if she was fighting to keep her eyes open in the middle of a dust storm. She cursed herself for giving into Laura's pleading, she cursed Laura for putting her in the terrible position in the first place. She cursed Cally for sticking her with Nicky as she held onto him, unable to walk as swiftly as she'd like with his weight hanging off of her. She cursed the shoddy unfinished wooden walkways and the dank dirt paths under her feet. Everything around her made her ire swell more and more.
"Laura, take it easy!" she called out just before she finally lost track of her in a crowd of people.
Frustrated, Ellen stopped in her tracks, deciding that she wouldn't waste her frakking energy or endanger Nicky for another second by running after her.
Laura was obviously headed back to her tent and Ellen knew she wouldn't be able to keep up the speed for long.
They'd catch up to her eventually, she thought as she continued on at a reasonable speed patting the baby's back in reassurance as they walked.
Laura took quick wide steps nearly leaping down the narrow rows of tents. She could only think of one thing; getting herself as far as possible from the sounds of her son. She traveled as fast as she could without breaking into a full jog, terrified that she'd hear the tiny muffled sounds of the infant again. Rationally she knew that she was already far enough from the foster home for it to be possible but she couldn't stop her feet from fleeing from him. She hated herself for being such a coward. Her chest ached with an increasing tightness, her mouth was dry and her belly was cramping and spasming harder with every hurried step she took. She could tell she was bleeding more than she should be. Every part of her body was begging her to slow down, to stop and rest. Finally, fed up with her abuse it simply gave out.
Laura's vision went dim as pain shot through her middle so sharply that it took her breath away and caused her to double over stumbling to the ground. Once she was down, her heated cheek nestled into the cool damp dirt, she gave in and allowed the darkness to overtake her.
Ellen knew it was Laura as soon as she saw the group of concerned bystanders kneeling and crouching around someone on the ground.
Her heart went into her throat as she rushed over and saw her laying there.
"Frak!" she exclaimed, dropping to her knees and taking Laura's limp hand.
"She's breathing," someone said, over her shoulder. "She passed out. My brother ran to get help."
"Laura!?" Ellen shouted, squeezing her fingers with one hand and patting her cheek with the other. "Laura, you pain in the ass, look at me!" she nearly screamed in her face, jarring Nicky and causing him to go to tears.
At the sound of the baby's cries Laura's eyes opened.
"Laura!?" Ellen called.
"Please," she weakly replied, her tearfully anguished eyes squeezing shut again, "make him stop."
NEW CAPRICA CITY; COLONIAL MEDICAL TENT
WEEK 43 OF CYLON OCCUPATION
"Ma'am?" Tory spoke through Laura's haze.
She blinked a few times and then winced against the painful brightness.
"Look at me," Cottle instructed as he flashed his pen light into her eyes.
"Laura?" Tory attempted again.
"My head," Laura rasped, her throat dry and sore. "It's throbbing."
"I don't doubt it," Cottle grumbled.
"Frak," she swore as she felt the too-full ache in her chest. She kneaded at the side of her breast and hissed, finding it firm and sore to the touch.
"I'll send someone in to help you with that in just a moment," the doctor acknowledged.
"How long have I been out?," she asked as her vision finally adjusted and she could see the pair in front of her looking somber.
"Well, you came round for a while after you got here," Cottle reminded her. "Do you remember that?"
"I think so…Ellen," Laura suddenly recalled. "Ellen Tigh was with me."
"She didn't stay long," Cottle filled her in. "She had the Tyrol kid with her. Had to get him back. I sedated you after we got the bleeding to ease up."
"Bleeding," Laura echoed, causing Cottle to frown.
"The uterus needs time to heal from where the placenta detaches," he went on, obviously annoyed to be repeating himself. He'd explained it all before discharging her from the clinic knowing how likely she was to listen. "It's like any wound. You put stress on your body before it was ready and you set yourself back a good week. You'll probably have some cramping on and off for the next day or so. It'll subside."
"Frak," Laura winced as more of what had led her there came back to her.
She'd been so close to seeing her son. She felt like such a coward.
"Want to tell me what was so important that you had to travel to the other side of the encampment ?" Cottle tested, but something about his admonishment seemed to lack its usual bantering tone.
"I was going stir crazy," she lied. "I thought some air and a change of scenery would help."
"We can talk more about that later," he said, hanging her chart back on to the bedside clip. "I have two dozen other patients to check in on."
Cottle turned and left without another word.
Something was off with him, Laura decided.
She looked to Tory for some sort of explanation and found her looking morose.
"Ma'am…Laura…" Tory began as if she was fearful of speaking.
Suddenly Laura realized that something was very wrong.
"What? What's the matter?" she pressed, her fear growing within. "Something's wrong." Had her trip to the foster home tipped off the cylons? She wouldn't be able to live with herself any longer if it had. "Tell me, Tory."
Tory gulped and nodded.
"There was a Police attack last night," she shakily reported. "Some armed civilians fought back. It got pretty bad."
Laura felt her skin flush cold.
"How many did we lose?"
Tory was too stricken for it to be just a few casualties. Laura braced herself for the answer.
"Twenty-three. With about thirty others injured. I'm surprised you slept through it all. It was a madhouse in here for most of the night."
They'd hardly had room for her as dozens of injured Colonial were brought into the medical tent. Had she not been under sedation and hooked up to an IV Cottle would have let her go to alleviate some space but she'd been in no shape to travel home and he'd made due somehow.
"My Gods," Laura let out, with little sound left to her voice.
She was stunned numb.
"Cally Tyrol was there but she made it out unharmed," Tory continued.
"Out?" Laura questioned. "Where did this happen?"
Tory hesitated to answer. It was the explanation she'd been dreading the entire time she was waiting for Laura to wake up.
"Ma'am it…it was during the temple vigil," she finally replied. She forced herself to keep going even through the look of instant horror in Laura's eyes. She knew that the news was going to destroy her. "It was a large turnout. People gathered in and around the temple tent. Police came with centurions to clear the crowd. Apparently some civilians tried to resist and a bullethead opened fire on the crowd. Some Colonials who were secretly armed fought back. There was a chaotic rush as people scattered from the area. There were about a dozen arrests. We don't have all of the names yet."
Laura's head fell limply down toward her lap. For a fraction of a moment her thoughts went to which God she should cry out to in despair, but the notion was fleeting. They'd all stopped listening.
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