Chapter 21 - Changing Courses

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Unknown System, Refugee Fleet, Battlestar Galactica - July, 2249

"Sir! Lieutenant Susan Ivanova, reporting as ordered, Sir!"

Bill returned her salute and gave an "at ease," then chuckled. The woman stood ramrod straight even in an At Ease position. He could tell she was nervous. But despite her youth, and she was very young, he could tell that it was due more to the oddity of being called before the Admiral than from any particular attribute of his or any lack of confidence in herself. This was clearly a highly confident and competent woman. "Relax, Russki. You're not in any trouble. Walk with me." He led the way out of the room and down the hall. "Commodore Sheridan and Colonel Garibaldi are on board, and they requested your participation. It's hoped that your time living and working amongst us might provide insights which help to prevent any cultural misunderstandings. Our separate frames of reference have lead to difficulties, despite our common language."

"Yes, Sir. I understand, Sir."

"This meeting is likely to be...tense. Just so that you are prepared."

"I'll do my best, Admiral."

He grunted. "What do you know about the Cylons, Russki?"

"What their fighters look like. The best way to engage them in space combat. I know they're synthetics...AI, but that they decided to destroy their creators. Apart from that, people have been rather reticent to go into detail. I gather that they developed some sort of camouflage, which allowed them to infiltrate the colonies and sabotage it from within. Apart from that, all I really know is that people refer to them as toasters."

"Just so long as you understand that they aren't human."

Russki glanced at him askance, clearly taken aback by the statement. "Yes, Admiral. I presume that would be obvious."

"You'd be surprised. Or rather, you will. Here we are." They had arrived at the Flight Deck Ready Room which had become their informal reception point from visiting Earth Alliance personnel. They were just in time to watch the landing.

Commodore Sheridan and Colonel Garibaldi had elected to fly themselves across in Starfuries rather than taking a shuttle. Once again, Bill marvelled at just how awkward that landing looked, with the fighters rolling over backwards to land on their engine bells. They simply weren't designed for landing on a ship under gravity. He had offered to evac the flight deck and shut down the grav plating, but the Commodore had declined the offer, saying it was better to adapt to the new reality. Bill found that laudable, and resolved to adapt himself… but he was certain he'd never get used to looking at a fighter cockpit and seeing the pilot's feet. Bizarre.

Moments later he was going through the coming aboard procedure as Sheridan and Garibaldi entered the Ready Room. "Welcome back to the Galactica," he offered, extending a hand.

"It's good to be here, Sir," Sheridan replied with a grin. "I have to admit, you've got me curious about this Cylon." Glancing to his left over Bill's shoulder, he made eye contact with Russki. "Lieutenant. You're doing well?"

"Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir."

"If you'll follow me." Bill turned about and led them on a long and winding route through the bowels of the ship. They passed a checkpoint into the Brig, Sheridan and Garibaldi and even Russki looking around in curiosity. They passed the short term holding cells and back towards the more long term facilities. Finally, they entered a small side corridor, ending in a heavy, locked hatch. It was crowded, filled really, by Colonel Tigh, a trio of Marine guards, and a pair of the President's bodyguards. And the President herself. Once more, greetings were exchanged. Tigh and Roslin ordered the Marines and bodyguards to remain outside. The Marine closest to the hatch unlocked and threw it open. Roslin strode through, followed by Colonel Tigh and the Earth officers. Bill followed them through, and then closed and dogged the hatch behind him.

He was a bit surprised to see Helo in the room. He was completely unsurprised to note the confusion and consternation on the faces of the Earth Alliance officers.

Helo had stood and come to attention the moment they entered. He'd been sitting on the bunk next to the Cylon. The Cylon itself paid them no mind, continuing to stare blankly at the bulkhead. She was getting thin, clearly not having been eating. Helo had probably brought in the uneaten tray of food sitting next to her. Bill had to remind himself she...it...was just a Cylon. He had begun to trust her...it...and even given it a mission. And then she had betrayed him. Cylons just couldn't be trusted.

"Gentlemen and lady, this is a Cylon," Roslin announced.

"She has a name," Helo snapped. "Admiral, what's going on?"

"At ease, Lieutenant. The Earth Alliance fleet is in danger from the Cylons as much as we are. They deserve to see the face of the enemy."

"Admiral," Helo argued, visibly fighting to remain calm, "Sharon's not the enemy. She risked her life to pull Anders and all those other Resistance fighters off of Caprica."

"And then she used that act to try to sneak a Cylon on board this ship! Now shut up, Lieutenant, or I'll have you tossed out."

Bill meant it to. This scene was clearly making their visitors uncomfortable, and he wasn't willing to accept that. Helo, unfortunately, was just so damned ernest, that he didn't know when to quit. "Admiral...we'd just lost the baby. She was depressed and not thinking straight...please…"

Whatever it was he was going to ask, Bill would never know. Russki interrupted, grabbing everyone's attention by spinning on the President and blurting, "You monster...how could you?!"

Adama would have called her to task, but Sheridan and Tigh both did so simultaneously, snapping, "Lieutenant!" Roslin simply gave her a confused look, while Garibaldi looked entirely too curious.

"The baby didn't die. She kidnapped it and told the parents she was dead. Doing that to an enemy is wrong...but how could you do that to one of your own officers? It's his child too! And after you used it to save your own life!" Russki was clearly incensed...and just as clearly not thinking about what she was blurting out. The words struck the room like a bomb.

"That's a hell of an accusation to make!" Tigh snapped. He wasn't the only one who was clearly furious. Sheridan whirled on her, clearly intent on dressing her down. Roslin just looked stunned. Bill understood the feeling. How could the girl possibly know these things?

"Lieutenant Ivanova," Sheridan snarled, "you've been with this fleet for less than a week, and already you're breaking regs regarding telepathic scans? Explain yourself!"

Before she could do so, a small voice asked, "What did you say?" The Cylon...Sharon Valerii...had finally taken notice of them. She still sat in the same position, but she had turned her head and focused her eyes. They bored into Russki. "What did you say about my baby?" Some small semblance of hope had seemed to kindle in her. It fairly blazed from Helo.

"How could you possibly know that?" Roslin asked in bemusement, echoing Bill's earlier thoughts. He only nodded in his desire to get an answer.

Russki looked around the room, realizing she had well and truly stepped in it. And not knowing whom to answer first. She let her conscience decide, and turned to Valerii. "I said your baby is alive. And still with the fleet." Turning to Roslin next, she replied, "I keep telling everyone I'm a telepath. It's right next to my name in giant letters at the top of my personnel file!" Finally turning to Sheridan, she shifted her eyes, clearly uncomfortable with his murderous glare. Picking a point on the bulkhead behind him to stare at, she braced herself to attention and replied, "My apologies, Commodore, but I didn't perform any scans. The President was practically broadcasting the information, she was so focused on it. She may have a great poker face, but her mind leaks information like a sieve." She began to lose composure a bit. "Well, it's not my fault that everyone on this ship goes around thinking at the tops of their lungs! Ummm….I mean….well, you know what I mean! Commander Bester can explain better than I can," she finished sheepishly. Then she turned a curious eye on the President, "Actually, the President here leaks information far more than most. I'm no expert...but she might have some affinity for telepathy. Not a telepath, mind you, but perhaps with some basic disposition. Either that or something has opened her mind."

Adama's head swam at the bizarre monologue. Was it possible that this telepathy thing was actually real? How else would she have known? Sheridan's initial ire had clearly passed, and now he turned an unreadable expression upon Laura. "Is this true?" he asked simply.

Roslin paused for several seconds, looking thoughtful. Finally, nodding to herself, she simply offered, "Yes, it is."

"How could you?" Helo demanded.

Sharon leapt to her feet, but Tigh was having none of that. "Sit the frak down!" he commanded, striding across the room. Helo stepped protectively in front of her, raising his hands.

Sheridan seemed disinterested in the byplay, turning slowly to Adama. "And were you aware of this, Admiral?"

Without hesitation, Bill replied. "I was." The look on Helo's face was shocked and betrayed. The Cylon had begun to cry. Russki, realizing belatedly that she was the cause of all of this, had pressed herself back against a bulkhead, and was trying to look as small as possible...much to Colonel Garibaldi's apparent amusement.

Sheridan took a deep breath, then stepped over in front of Helo, and jerked his head to the side, commanding him to move. After a moment's hesitation, the young man did so. This allowed Sheridan to look down on and inspect the woman known as Sharon Valerii. The Cylon.

"And you claim this woman isn't human? You have medical scans to back this up?" He was staring at Sharon, but his words were clearly for Bill.

"To most instruments they are medically indistinguishable from humans. We have a Cylon detector, but it doesn't seem to work perfectly...and you would need Baltar to tell you how it works at all," Bill offered in disgust.

Turning to look over his shoulder at Russki, the Commodore asked, "And her mind? Is there any indication there that she isn't human?"

Russki concentrated for a moment, then shook her head. "There are some oddities there...a bit of an affinity for telepathy….very similar to the President's mind, actually. But nothing too out of the ordinary or that would indicate she wasn't human."

Glancing over at Helo, he then added, "And apparently these Cylons are capable of interbreeding with humans. Which, if I remember my grade school biology correctly, is actually a sign of being the same species." Turning around to regard the President once again, he slowly continued. "So, what I've got here, is a woman who gives just about every indication of being human, and a man who is both human and one of your officers...and your government has abducted their child and advised them that this child was dead. And further, the criminal activity that landed her in this cell...that might have provided some tiny justification for this abhorrent action...that happened after the kidnapping, not before it. Is that about right?"

"Now just a moment, Commodore," Roslin began to protest, but he spoke over her.

"I've heard a lot of self-superior commentary from some of the members of your fleet. Shock at how the Earth Alliance fleet is a military dictatorship, while the 'enlightened' Colonial fleet has free and democratic elections...a civilian government." He paused. "If this is the kind of behavior I can expect from a free and democratically elected government under these circumstances...then I have no doubt my fleet is operating under the correct command structure." He paused for a moment, considering, while Laura bristled under his scrutiny and commentary. "But, I believe I have a solution to offer you. You clearly don't trust this woman. It's pretty clear you don't trust her...partner...either. I am willing to find a spot for them in my fleet. Some place more comfortable and appropriate than a cell. Then perhaps you could return their child to them."

Roslin was clearly about to say something acerbic, so Bill decided to cut in. "That won't be necessary Commodore." Sheridan turned an enquiring eye towards him. "Sometimes the best way to determine the morality of a course of action is to view it through the eyes of a third party. Helo is a valued member of my crew...and it should be possible for Ms. Valerii to regain some trust that she has recently squandered. To become a full member of this fleet. We'll be releasing her shortly. She'll have to remain under watch by the Marines for the time being...but that should hopefully be temporary. Colonel Tigh, why don't you take Lieutenant Agathon down to crew quarters, and get him set up with a family housing cabin. We'll move Ms. Valerii in shortly after that...and then return their child. I'll ensure they are granted family status."

"Bill?" Tigh asked uncertainly.

"Just do it, Saul."

Tigh nodded without a word, and then collected Helo and turned to leave. Helo felt compelled to offer, "Thank you, Admiral. Commodore." He hurried out after the Colonel.

Roslin stepped forward. "And I'll return the child...Hera...to Ms. Valerii. She's currently residing aboard Colonial One. As you know, I have the Presidential Oath of Office ceremony in a couple of hours. Immediately afterward, I will personally deliver Hera back to her mother."

"Commodore," Bill said, "I hope you understand that the actions previously taken were done with what we hoped were the best interests of the fleet in mind. But I'm glad you called us out on it."

"Well, we can't change past mistakes, Admiral. We can only try to correct them and move on. An effort which I appreciate. And on that note...it seems Ms. Ivanova is having a hard time screening out everyone's thoughts. I know that can be disconcerting. If you wish, I can have her withdrawn and replaced with an officer who isn't a telepath."

"That won't be necessary, Commodore. We've started to grow quite fond of Russki here. That includes her...occasional lack of discretion."

"She does tend to grow on you," Sheridan agreed. "That having been said, please don't hesitate to reach out with any concerns. Now, I think Ms. Valerii has had enough excitement for one visit. We should probably call it a day. I'd like the chance to speak with her again in the future, if that's acceptable. I'd also appreciate any medical information you do have on the Cylons."

"I'll have Doc Cottle and Baltar compile and send it to you," Bill affirmed. He then called out sharply, "Marine." The hatch sprang open, the Marine on duty having paid close attention. "Lieutenant Ivanova. Please escort our guests back to the flight deck. Take all the time you need to answer any questions they may have."

Bill waited in silence for half a minute after they had left to give them a chance to get out of earshot, then walked out without a word. Roslin followed him out, as he knew she would. She waited just long enough to get beyond earshot of the Marines. "Admiral," she all but hissed, "just exactly what the hells do you think you're doing!?"

"Exactly what you asked me to."

"Excuse me?"

"You wanted me to build a relationship with the Commodore. To build trust. To get him to listen to me." He stopped walking, turning to face her directly. "Like most children, there's no chance of him listening to me if I don't return the courtesy. You want a familial relationship with the Commodore? This is part of the price. It won't be the only one." Having made his point, he turned and resumed walking. After only a tiny hesitation, she did the same, matching him stride for stride. "Besides, he may be right. Taking the child...it might not have been the right thing to do."

Roslin only snorted, then walked in silence for a few more moments. "And the telepath? Are we buying into that fairy tale now?"

"How else would she have known?"

"Then why didn't you have her replaced when it was offered?"

"Because that's not the action of someone who is trustworthy. No, we'll have to tackle the telepath problem a different way."

"Oh? You have something in mind?"

"Well, if we're very lucky, then Baltar will be able to rig up some sort of countermeasure. I wouldn't hold my breath, though."

"And until that glorious day?"

"We'll simply have to be less...furtive."

"Oh, joy."

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Unknown System, Refugee Fleet, Cloud 9 - July, 2249

Gaius Baltar walked uncertainly through the door into the apartment he had arranged on the Cloud 9. An apartment that, hopefully, no one else was aware of. He tried to shrug off his nerves. I don't have anything to worry about. This is going to be fine. The source of his concern greeted him morosely. She just never seemed happy. Not that he could blame her for that. She was still working her way through the trauma she had endured. The woman directed him to take a seat on the couch. She then sat on her knees facing him, her crowded coffee table between them.

Gina. Gina Inviere. Cylon. Gods she's beautiful. Despite being quite possibly the smartest man in the Colonies...Baltar knew he was never quite able to stop thinking with his other head. He remembered what she had looked like, beaten and battered, completely in shock, as he had tried to work with her in her cell aboard the Pegasus. She had been beautiful even then. He fumbled with his words for a moment, not quite certain how to start, looking anywhere but at her. "Well….well. Roslin will be remaining as President. I'm sorry. She...knows I had some part in the fall of the Colonies. She has no proof, but she's going to be coming after me. Well….I think my ability to see you will no doubt be...uhhh...requirements of countering whatever move she has in mind...and the scrutiny I will no doubt be under. They might throw me in a cell...but in the end they have no proof! Justice will be served! Listen to me," he added with a chuckle. "I sound like a lawyer. But obviously, we...umm...we will have the chance to connect...to, uhh...to get together again, once this blows over...once…"

"It's alright Gaius. I never had any intention of going to New Caprica. This is almost a relief."

He looked at her in confusion. "What? What are you talking about?"

"I never intended to go to New Caprica." His confusion intensified. Had he been President, they would all have gone to New Caprica. But before he could argue, she continued. "Gaius...if this woman is going to remain President...I need to understand her. I need to know that she isn't Cain. I need to see her with my own eyes."

"That's...that's more than impossible...that's crazy. There's no way that could happen."

"You're required to be at her swearing in aboard Colonial One, aren't you? Take me with you."

"Are you insane?" he asked sharply. When her face crumpled and her gaze dropped immediately to the floor, he amended, "No...no...I didn't mean it like that. It's just that...this is Colonial One. Security will be tight. They will certainly recognize that you're a Cylon. And Roslin will have you...will have us both...put out an airlock."

"Then just hide me aboard your shuttle. I won't pass through security. I'll stay hidden. I just need to hear her words for myself. Please, Gaius."

He dropped his gaze to the table. "I can't do this anymore." He stood, gave her one last glance, and walked around the table, heading for the door.

"Stay," came her uncertain voice, from behind his back. He paused for a moment, then turned to look at her. Without turning to look at him, without rising from her knees, she slowly undid the hooks fastening her top. Once that was done, she shrugged it off and down her arms, exposing her naked, scarred back and shoulder to him. Setting her blouse to the side, she slowly rose and turned towards him. Crossing her arms in front of her to cover her exposed chest, she walked slowly, without a further word, towards the sleeping alcove.

Gaius followed her with some trepidation, but very little hesitation. Standing with her back to him in the semi-darkened alcove, facing the bed, she slowly pulled her skirt down over her hips, then drew it down her long legs. All thoughts of leaving having vanished, Gaius pulled off his jacket and tie, then began undoing the buttons on his shirt. Looking up, he saw her holding out her hand to him. With the barest hesitation, he reached out and took it, and allowed himself to be pulled into the glories that were Gina Inviere.

.

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"If you will raise your right hand and repeat after me…"

Less than two hours later, Baltar found himself aboard Colonial One, surrounded by people who cared nothing about him, and a good many who actively despised him. He didn't want to listen to that bitch retake her Oath of Office...but he hadn't been given a choice.

The officiating priest was continuing. "I, Laura Roslin, do now avow and affirm..."

Her response was steady and unwavering, "I, Laura Roslin, do now avow and affirm..."

"...that I take the office of the President of the Twelve Colonies of Kobol without any reservation or mental evasion…"

"...that I take the office of the President of the Twelve Colonies of Kobol without any reservation or mental evasion…"

"...that I will protect and defend the Articles of Colonization..."

"...that I will protect and defend the Articles of Colonization..."

"...with every fiber of my being."

"...with every fiber of my being."

"Congratulations Madame President," the priest offered, smiling and shaking her hand. General applause broke out all around. There was a rush of well wishing and congratulations. No one paid attention to him.

Well, almost no one. "Gaius Baltar. What a pleasure seeing you here. Enjoying the ceremony?"

Baltar turned. Saul Tigh. And his wife. "Colonel Tigh," he said without acknowledging the insulting question. "What are you doing here?"

"The Admiral couldn't make it. He sent me as his representative. We're just here to put on a happy face." The man did indeed seem to be quite pleased with himself. He was certainly enjoying the free drinks.

"Oh," his wife...Ellen, if Gaius remembered correctly...commented, "didn't you also need to speak with Ms. Foster? She seemed quite upset about something."

The Colonel shot her a disapproving glare. Clearly he didn't want to discuss the topic. He supposed there might have been something worth digging for there, but Gaius really couldn't have cared less.

He turned without a further word and made his way back to the shuttle. That woman was surrounded by fools and sycophants. He just wanted to be away. Well, if anything good came of this day, at least Gina might be happy. It had still been an incredible risk, bringing her along, but at least she had agreed to stay on the shuttle, and merely listen in. If anyone had seen her, the alarms would certainly have been raised by now.

He boarded the shuttle which had been set aside for him, without acknowledging the young pilot sitting in the cockpit, and headed for the side room in which Gina would be waiting. Opening the door, he walked into the empty room. That was unsurprising. No doubt, she was hiding as she had promised. You couldn't be too safe. He walked over and opened the closet. Empty. Surprised, he backed up, then spun and checked under the bed. Nothing. He bolted up and scanned the room wildly. There was nowhere else to hide. Wait...that footlocker...you could maybe squeeze… Tearing open the lid, he looked in at a pile of spare sheets. It took less than a second to confirm that she wasn't hiding underneath them. She's not in the room!

Tearing open the door, he darted back into the main cabin of the shuttle. Empty. His eyes settled on the door to the bathroom, and he darted inside there. No one. He took the time to open the tiny cabinets, even though there was no possible way she could squeeze inside those. Panic set in. She left the shuttle. Impossible! She promised! She couldn't be so foolish! He opened the door and dazedly stepped back into the main cabin, once more looking around in blind hope. Nothing.

"Is everything alright, Sir?" It was the pilot. The little twit was looking at him as though she might possibly be able to help him.

He stared at her blankly. Gina's going to get herself thrown out an airlock.

"Sir?"

Gina's going to get me thrown out an airlock!

"Sir, are you alright?"

Shaking himself, he put on a smile. "Yes. Yes, of course. It's just been a long day, and I'm afraid I'm rather exhausted." Have to get out of here! "I'm not really all that welcome either...being the opposition party and all. If it's alright with you, I'd just really like to get out of here immediately."

"You'll miss the buffet."

He felt like strangling the little twit, but then, who would fly the shuttle? "It's alright, I'm not really hungry.

She sighed. Clearly she was going to miss the buffet, but she had a job to do. "Back to Cloud 9, Sir?" she asked, turning to her controls.

"No! I mean...I was just visiting a friend there. My quarters are aboard the Galactica. Please take me there.

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Unknown System, Refugee Fleet, Combat Action Patrol - July, 2249

"Coming up on waypoint," Russki commed to her Wingman. "Which ship is that?"

"It's the Cloud 9. At this velocity we should be there in just over a minute." Kat seemed disinterested in the conversation, but at least she was no longer hostile. Susan would take it.

She also couldn't tear her eyes away from that ship. She loved the green cores of the Whitestars, but they always felt artificial. Looking up and seeing people and trees upside down and above you tended to do that. But the huge dome of Cloud 9 somehow gave the impression of looking down directly onto a planetary surface. It was mesmerizing.

Thus, she was staring right at the ship when the damned thing exploded. "Frag me!" she shouted, horrified. "Galactica, this is the CAP, declaring an emergency! Please respond!"

"CAP, Galactica Actual. What the frak is happening out there?"

"The Cloud 9 just exploded, Admiral! It must have been nuclear. I'm seeing...one...two...at least three other ships destroyed in the blast. Oh, shit….I don't see Colonial One!

There was a long pause. "Any chance of survivors?" Came the quiet response.

"Unknown, Sir. It's bad...but it might be possible...on the other ships."

"Then get in there and start looking. We're launching all birds now. I'll contact Commodore Sheridan to see if he can lend a hand. Galactica Actual...out."

Susan took a deep breath, then accelerated her Viper towards a small slice of hell.

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Unknown System, Refugee Fleet, Battlestar Galactica - July, 2249

Gaius Baltar leaned forward, palms flat against his lab table, trying to relax and stay calm. Trying to shake off the fear and the nerves and the mass of guilt that plagued him. The woman he had come to think of as the Six in his Head, seated on the table directly in front of him, was trying her best to help him with that. Of course, the fact that his pants and her dress….that lovely red dress...were down around their ankles, definitely helped in the relaxation. On the other hand….things were gradually going from relaxing to frantic.

He didn't hear the hatch open. He did, however, hear the scream, "Oh my God!"

His hips froze, body still hunched over Six, and his head and eyes swiveled to stare at the woman standing with her mouth and eyes wide. Gods. It was that Earther pilot. The Lieutenant. What was her name again?

"Lieutenant Ivanova," he said calmly, "it's good to see you. I was just…" What do I say? She couldn't see Head Six, afterall. Just say something. I know... He bounced up and down on his toes. "Just keeping up with the old exercises. He shook out his arms and rotated his head. "That should...uh...do me…..do me for today." He turned his back to her, rapidly reaching down to pull up his pants. "So, uh, what...oh, ha ha, I feel a lot better, what brings you to the lab at this time of the night?"

Ivanova and Six responded to him simultaneously. "It's the middle of the afternoon." Six continued, leaning in close to lick his earlobe then whisper in his ear, "you keep making that same mistake, Gaius."

"Yeah, of course it is. Crazy workload. I totally, totally lose track of time. So, uhmm...what can I do for you?"

Glancing at him from where she had been averting her eyes, she responded, "Just zip up your fly." Her eyes then shot back up to the ceiling, her face a bright red.

Frantically, he glanced down to see his shirt sticking out past his pant zipper. He frantically stuffed it back in, then zipped and adjusted. He then slowly straightened and tried to act casual. "So, uhh…?"

"I'm terribly sorry Doctor Baltar. I didn't actually mean to come in here. It's just that I was at the end of of an eight hour CAP, and then the Cloud 9 went up and I spent the next six hours doing rescue operations, and somebody got it in their head that the other exchange pilots and I were the perfect candidates for running Ops coordination for the rescue efforts, so then I ended up trying to act as an ambassador and interpreter and traffic control, all while still flying rescue ops….and I'm sorry but I'm just completely exhausted. And this ship is even bigger and more confusing than the Nova, which I didn't think was possible, and I just lost track of where I was, and I thought this hatch was a shortcut back to the barracks...and I'm so sorry for interrupting you Doctor. I'll just get out of here." The poor girl...and she was indeed very young...was still staring at the ceiling, but she began to back out of the hatch.

Six leaned back over the desk to look at the girl more fully. "There's something terribly interesting about this one. We'll have to pay particular attention to her."

"No!" Gaius said sharply.

"Excuse me?" the two women said simultaneously, both looking directly at him.

He cleared his throat. "Excuse me. I mean, no, why don't you let me escort you back to the barracks, I know the way."

Ivanova looked terribly uncomfortable. "That's really not necessary, Doctor. You can just go back to...what you were doing."

Six rolled her head back, giving him a very direct and very serious stare. "What are you up to, Gaius?"

"If you're as tired as you say, then you're liable to get turned around again," Baltar replied smoothly. "Then you'll get even less rest. I could have you tucked into your bunk in just a few minutes."

"Really, Doctor…."

"Please. There's nothing I'd rather be doing."

Six hopped down off of the table and sauntered right up to him, completely unbothered by her complete lack of garb, so she could lay her right hand on his shoulder and stare over hers at the officer at the hatch. "You and I were just making love on the table, and there's nothing you'd rather be doing?" She reached down with her other hand and squeezed him someplace terribly uncomfortable.

He winced, but she wasn't done. "Gaius Baltar, you are unbelievable. You really do want to tuck her into her bunk. She just walked through the door, and you already want to frak her."

"Doc...you're clearly a very busy man. I'd hate to waste your time," the Lieutenant said at the same time as Six's statement. She took another half step back towards the hatch.

"Don't be ridiculous…" he said, uncertain to which of them he was saying it.

"You really do want to frak her. This child. I didn't realize you were into pedophilia, Gaius. Or is it lesbians? Want to tame one for yourself? Does that butch uniform really do it for you? Well, go ahead Gaius. The table's open now. I won't mind. Just bend her over and go to town." Baltar tried to say something, but Six was far from done. "Go ahead, Gaius. I can see it in your eyes, and I certainly felt it. You'd like nothing better than to be swatting that fat ass, and hanging on to those udders of hers…"

In three strides Russki crossed the room and laid her fist upside of Six's jaw. Six flew backwards to slam into the rear wall of the small room, then dropped to her ass on the floor, her legs tangled up beneath her. Russki took another step forward to loom over the blond, hands clasped loosely behind her back. "Not that it's any of your business, but I am not a child. This uniform is not butch. I am not gay. And you are the last person who should be accusing someone of having udders or a fat ass."

Gaius stood, stunned speechless. His gaze darted back and forth between the two women. Eyes wide, Six seemed equally shocked.

But the pilot wasn't done, it seemed. "And another thing. If either of you ever speak to me like that again, I will personally drag you both through that hatch, down the hall, across the ship to the nearest airlock, and toss you both out! And just one more thing. I'd like you both to develop a personal mantra. Ivanova is always listening. I will not insult Ivanova. I will respect Ivanova at all times. Ivanova...is God. And, if this ever happens again...airlock!" Russki turned and was out the hatch in four strides, slamming it shut behind her.

Baltar turned and stared down at Six. Bizarrely, she was smiling. And still not giving a damn about being naked. "Like I said, Gaius. There's something terribly interesting about that one."

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Unknown System, Refugee Fleet, Battlestar Galactica - July, 2249

Admiral William Adama marched down the halls of the Galactica, a pair of Marines in tow. He refused to acknowledge the bulk of his thoughts and feelings regarding the recent calamity. But this one action..this one responsibility...he was very much looking forward to. Gaius Baltar was finally going to see some justice.

Arriving at the door to Baltar's lab, he threw open the hatch without knocking and strode in. The Marines, half a step behind him, nearly ran into him when he froze upon seeing the occupants of the room. Baltar was not alone. He was conversing with Tom Zarek.

Zarek rose. "Admiral. I'm glad you're here. I was going to speak with you next, after Doctor Baltar here."

Bill didn't appreciate the interruption, but kept his irritation mostly in check. "Regarding?"

"The future actions of the fleet, of course. But, before we get into that, it looked like you had a specific purpose for being here. Please, don't let my presence stop you."

Bill decided that was good enough. Turning his glare on Baltar, he stated, "The analysis of the Cloud 9 incident is in, and it's definitive. The blast initiated with a nuclear device. Specifically, a device with the exact same yield and energy signature of the device we loaned to you. Neither Cylon nor the Earth Alliance nukes have this signature. We checked. All of our stocks of that model of nuke have been accounted for. Yours is missing. Tell me, Doctor Baltar, do you happen to have that nuke."

"I do not."

"Then either it was stolen from your lab, and smuggled aboard Cloud 9 by a Cylon agent, or you handed it over, perhaps for that purpose."

Baltar grew indignant. "Don't be ridiculous, Admiral."

"This may be the first step in a coordinated Cylon attack," Adama ground on, biting back his urge to shake the fool. "My first priority will be to focus in on internal security. To that end…"

"No," Baltar cut him off. Bill stopped in astonishment. "No, I don't think so," Baltar continued. Our first priority is to the people. I must recommend the we see those people safely established on New Caprica. Once that's established, we can put this tragedy safely behind us."

Adama, seeing red, took a half step forward, "Who in the hells do you think..."

"Admiral," Zarek cut in sharply. "Perhaps I had better explain why I was here, before this goes too much farther."

"Mr. Zarek, I'm here on official business…"

"As am I," Zarek interrupted again. "Were you aware, Admiral, that the Quorum just convened an emergency session, a session which finished barely an hour ago."

"I'm aware. That's hardly surprising, given the core of our government just vanished."

"Exactly. And in order to maintain continuity of that government, decisions had to be made. The President is gone. The Line of Succession had to be determined."

Adama looked from Zarek to Baltar in horror. "The President's not dead."

Baltar scoffed. "Colonial One was in the blast radius. And now it's gone. Unless you've been hiding the President in you cupboards, then of course she's dead."

Zarek held out a hand to indicate that Baltar should shut up, but Bill responded hotly anyway. "All of the other ships destroyed were either largely intact or left massive debris behind. Even Cloud 9. And yet there's nothing of the President's ship. Not so much as a single fleck of paint has been found. Colonial One was the farthest from the blast of the affected vessels. It couldn't possibly have been vaporized."

"Then where is she?" Zarek asked with honest curiosity.

"We speculate that she jumped away."

"That's ludicrous," Baltar interjected. "You're saying that Colonial One's pilot had the reaction speed to jump away from an unexpected nuclear explosion!? That's physically impossible. And even leaving that little fact aside," he added, scoffing, "she would have needed to have her engines spooled up, and a destination laid in. And further, if she did jump away, then why hasn't she jumped back? If Colonial One still exists, Admiral, then where is she?"

"You're correct that her engines would have needed to be ready to jump. But she wouldn't have needed to have jump coordinates plugged in."

"A blind jump. Really." Baltar put as much scorn as he could manage into the final word.

"It would explain why they haven't returned. They could easily be lost, have jumped far enough to require a number of planned jumps to return, or even had their engines damaged in the process."

"And any one of those things could be a death sentence," Baltar continued. "And you left out the possibility that they jumped right into a star, or a planet, or the middle of the Cylon fleet!"

"That's why we go look for her," Bill ground out.

"A waste of resources," Baltar snapped. "As I said before, we need to begin settlement of New Caprica. That is your responsibility now, Admiral."

"The President's not dead," Bill repeated mulishly. He'd be damned if he let Baltar claim the Presidency under these circumstances. He was prepared to order the Marines to put this down right now, but Zarek spoke first.

"Perhaps you are correct, Admiral. I certainly hope so. But it can't be argued that she's not here. Which fits the definition of 'unable to carry out the duties and responsibilities of President.'"

"And when I find her, that won't be the case."

"And as I said," Baltar interjected again, "that search is a dangerous waste of resources. I won't have it. You know my intentions."

"You're not listening."

"I'm the President. I don't need to listen."

"In point of fact, Dr. Baltar," Zarek cut in, "you are not."

Both Bill and Gaius turned to the man in surprise. Baltar spoke first. "Excuse me? I'm the Vice President. The Line of Succession is clear."

Bill smiled. "The President asked you to resign. And when you refused, and ran against her no less, she made if very clear she intended to have you replaced by Wallace Gray."

"Which was never made official!" Baltar objected. "I am still the Vice President."

"Correct Doctor," Zarek stated calmly. "You are still the Vice President. The Quorum has the right to adjust the Line of Succession. President Roslin had made it very clear that removing you would be practically her first action after being sworn back in. Her untimely death or disappearance nullifying that fact, and allowing you to become President...was unpalatable to the Quorum. That, coupled with the fact that the People had just used their ultimate power to decide to keep you out of the Presidency...well, it was more than enough justification for the Quorum to keep you in the VP slot."

Bill smiled. "Then Wallace Gray…"

"Was never sworn in as Vice President," Zarek cut in. "There's only so far the Quorum can bend the Line of Succession. Besides, in case you weren't aware Admiral, Wallace was on board Colonial One when it...when it went missing."

Bill turned to face Zarek directly, his stomach sinking. He knew what the man was about to say, but it was still a shock to hear it.

"The Quorum has officially named me as Acting President." He turned to Baltar. "And no, Vice President Baltar, we will not be settling New Caprica. The People made it very clear that they wish to continue our association with the Earth people. I personally can't stand a military dictatorship...but I won't circumvent the will of the People, no matter how I feel."

"And the search for Colonial One?" Bill asked.

"Should absolutely go ahead. In fact, I hope you weren't waiting on permission to begin. Recovering President Roslin, if possible, is a very high priority for us. Just not the highest. Gaius is correct in that it would be a dangerous expenditure of resources. So you need to limit the search to a force that will not materially detract from the defense of the fleet."

"And if...when, we find her?"

"Then I will happily step aside, and ensure the Quorum returns her to her proper standing. She can do what she wants with Baltar then."

Adama nodded. He supposed he could live with that. Then his glance slid back to Baltar. Time to finish what he had come here for.

"And Admiral," Zarek cut in one more time, "this fleet has had enough conflict and controversy for a while. If the reason you brought those Marines along was to incarcerate the Vice President and hold him responsible for the loss of Cloud 9...then think again. I'll make it an official Presidential Pardon if I need to, but I'd rather avoid the whole mess if at all possible.

Bill stopped and stared at Zarek ...Acting President Zarek, for several moments. He then aimed one last disgusted glare at Baltar, then turned on his heel and marched out. The Marines followed suit, one of them pausing to close the hatch behind them. Oh well, it could be worse. At least the man's not a complete fool.