Rock A Bye Scion

by LeoLovesAries

Upon request I tried my hand at the old A/R New Caprica baby fic trope using some combined themes and elements from my past BSG works. Contains mature themes. Do not read if any BSG 2003 canon typical elements trigger you. Roslin centric. Roslin/Adama pairing. Canon divergent. WIP

20. Chapter 20

AN: Thanks for returning even though it's been months! Whenever I think I'm on a roll things start to roll back in the other direction. This one is a longer chapter that I just couldn't quite figure out how to split up.

Even with an outline this many characters become difficult to "move around" so I had to take extra time in figuring out things like timing and placement.
Future posting to FFN:
The chapter was posted on AO3 First because FFN formatting is becoming nearly impossible to manage. It just wont transfer anymore and it takes ages to repair once its been uploaded. So unless this issue is fixed I'm not sure if I will be posting this fic here anymore after this. I don't have the time it takes to go back and edit formatting that already should be there and I don't want to upload it without it as I feel the writing loses something without it. If that's the case and I can no longer upload here I will post the notice where chapter 21 would go.

*This chapter has a content warning for scenes that would not have been deemed appropriate for the TV series rating.

The chapter also includes some direct dialogue from series episodes as well as excerpts pulled from past fics of my own that have been reworked and repurposed for this story.

Lastly, I'm not sure if anyone would be interested in this or if it's sort of cheesy or hackish, but I have a music playlist compiled for this fic. It's a collection of songs I've used for inspiration, listened to while writing or would possibly use if mentally setting the scenes with a fantasy soundtrack of sorts. Some of the songs spoke to me in respect to particular characters or situations. Some were just mood setting songs that I have played often while writing. I do still add to it on occasion. If you'd like to give it a look you can find it on YouTube Here: /playlist?list=PLYGsFwahwcxBt7zLt1jm1nFoa-q1vm-uQ&si=e6WGD5gWYMJvB8rm

Copy and paste this url.

I've seen other authors add playlists to their fics and I thought since I actually had one this time I'd share it. Sorry if it's generally seen as tacky. I know most folks prefer to listen to their own music, but in case you want some suggestions they are all there, just not in any particular order. Anyway, here's your next installment.

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NEW CAPRICA CYLON MEDICAL CENTER

ROOM A8

WEEK 50 OF CYLON OCCUPATION

Kara's hip was stiff as she woke, her eyes swollen from crying herself to sleep. She'd attempted to stay up most of the night, trying every hour to rouse Laura Roslin from her deep post-op repose.

She'd eventually given up, returning to her own bed. She'd turned her back to Roslin, curled into a ball and sobbed in frustration until she slept.

Kara wasn't sure how long she'd been out, but it felt like a few hours at least. She'd slept harder than she'd intended. Deeper than she had since before her abduction. It was as if just the company of another person she knew had given her enough solace to finally allow her mind and body some respite.

With the sudden notion that someone could have come in and removed Roslin while she was sleeping, Kara jerked around, jolted up and leapt out of bed.

She let out a sigh of relief finding the other woman, eyes closed and motionless, but still very much there.

Kara bit her lip and moved toward the other bed, taking up her post where she'd spent much of the night. She began to scan Laura's body for any changes or signs of recent movement.

Something immediately caught her eye peeking out from under the auburn splay of Roslin's hair. Someone had tucked her glasses halfway under the pillow.

Kara frowned. She'd really slept through someone coming in and placing them there. She chastised herself for becoming so exhausted. She needed to stay alert and vigilant.

Glasses weren't exactly easily replaceable anymore. Kara had to wonder how many people had lost or broken theirs since the fall of the Colonies leaving them squinting through life.

She thanked the gods for her keen eyesight.

Deciding that the precious eyewear should really be placed in a safer location on the bedside stand, Kara reached over Laura's sleeping form to take them.

"No!" Laura suddenly screeched, her hands wildly flailing to push Kara's away.

"Ma'am!" Kara shouted. She was startled out of her wits but a rush of relief immediately washed over her. "Ma'am, relax, relax," she said, quickly pulling back to give the frightened woman space. "You're okay! At least I think. It's me. It's Kara!"

Laura's eyes flew open. Wild with fear they darted around the room frantically scanning her surroundings. Finally settling on Starbuck they nearly doubled in size.

"Kara?" she rasped, her voice trembling and still gravelly from her long slumber.

Kara's eyes instantly filled to the brim with tears and she nodded as she saw Laura Roslin realize who she was looking at.

Incensed by the appearance of the missing young woman Laura rushed to sit up only to find herself seized by deep sharp pains.

"Ugh!" she cried out, as the soreness from the retrieval made itself known.

Suddenly the memory of the harvest came flooding back and she winced in anguish and disgust. She'd been robbed and violated. Frakking soulless thieves, she internally cursed her captors.

She felt sick to her stomach.

"Easy there, easy," Kara warned, "Stay put. Here. Let me help," she offered, reaching for the bed's position control panel and raising its back slowly so that Laura was sitting upright. "That okay?" she tested.

"Yes," Laura nodded as the cramping and twinges subsided. "I'm fine."

"Really?" Kara scowled, unconvinced. "That didn't seem fine to me."

Something was very wrong with Laura Roslin. That much was obvious.

"Never mind that," Laura dismissed her own discomfort, pushing the distressing memory to the back of her mind. "Thank the Gods," she said looking up at Kara as if she were gazing at some holy apparition. "You're alive."

"Don't get too excited," Kara replied with a faint smirk. "I'm alive, but I'm still stuck here and now so are you."

"Frak," Laura swore, finally taking a moment to look her up and down.

Kara was in a hospital gown just like she was and looking rather pale and thin. She was a fellow prisoner, not there to rescue her.

"Yeah, frak," Kara darkly chided.

"Damn it," Laura muttered under her breath.

Attempting to shift her position in bed she once again found herself doubled over with residual cramping. "Frak those frakking bastards," she gritted through her teeth, recalling Ellen's forewarning; 'It's a needle as long as your frakkin arm!"

Laura held her breath waiting for it to pass.

"What- what's going on?" Kara asked, her brow furrowed in concern. "Are you sick? You're obviously hurt. I've been waiting for you to wake up for hours."

When the pain eased again Laura gingerly sat upright and let out a long groan.

"There was a- procedure."

Kara grimaced.

"What did they do to you? Because whatever they said it was, I can almost guarantee they're lying."

Laura didn't know what to say. It was obvious she was still in the Cylon hospital, probably in a recovery room. Not only was she far from ready to explain exactly why she was there to Kara Thrace, she also had to assume they might be under surveillance. They needed to be cautious of what they said aloud to one another.

"I…I was mostly awake during it. I know what they did," she admitted, avoiding having to lie. "I don't want to talk about it right now, Kara. If that's okay? Gods only know if they're listening to us. I don't think it's any mistake that they've put us here together."

Kara frowned, confused as to why Laura wouldn't say what was wrong. Whatever it was, the Cylons already knew. They were the ones who brought her in after all. Why wouldn't she say what happened?

"Yeah…I mean…okay," Kara reluctantly let it go.

Laura smiled, reaching a hand out for her to take.

"My Gods, I just can't believe you're alive," she beamed, grasping Kara's hand as soon as their palms met. "Thank the gods."

Kara tried to return the smile, but it died on her lips.

"Does everyone- Does everyone think I'm dead?" she asked, suddenly realizing how shocked Laura really seemed.

"We didn't know. It's been so long."

"So did everyone stop looking for me?" Kara asked, afraid to hear the answer.

Through all the lonely days and nights she'd spent locked up in Leoben's flat the thing that scared her most had been the fear that she would be forgotten, that eventually no one would search for her anymore, that they would give up and move on.

"I don't think Sam Anders would ever stop looking for you," Laura told her, making an attempt at some reassurance. "But he's become disheartened as we all have. I've been arrested more times than I can keep track of over the last year. A lot of us have and none of us ever ran into you. Colonel Tigh, our resistance members, no one ever reported a sign of you. I would look for you every time they escorted me to a cell, doing my best to peek into every barred window I could. I tried to listen for your voice. Nothing."

"Yeah," Kara replied, licking at her dry lips. "Well, they don't exactly keep me in with the general population," she explained.

Taking Laura's lead she stopped there, forgoing the disturbing details of her unique imprisonment for the time being.

"Are you okay, Kara?" Laura asked, sensing that she had more to say.

Kara felt her throat begin to tighten against the impulse to claim that she was fine. For the moment she was. In that instant she was up and standing and breathing. But she'd been mentally tortured for the better part of a year, so isolated and depressed that she'd twice tried to harm herself just to escape the life she led as a deranged man's living doll. Was she okay?

"No, Ma'am," she answered, breaking down in tears again in the face of Laura's earnest enquiring eyes.

It had been so long since someone had asked her how she was feeling and truly cared to know the answer.

Laura's expression turned to one of deep concern and alarm.

"Why are you here in the hospital, Kara?"

"I don't frakking know," Kara sniffed, taking her hand back to wipe at her running nose. "Some bullshit excuse. Their quack of a doctor said I have uterine fibroids. Last time he told me something like that he cut into me for spare parts."

A jolt of guilt went through Laura's core as she watched the tears pour down the young woman's cheeks. She'd sent her on that mission back to Caprica and it cost her greatly.

When Starbuck was debriefed following her return Laura had never expected the horrors of the Farms she'd reported. They'd all sat there, knuckles white as Cottle explained to them that she was now missing an ovary. The young woman's most private business became part of a report being given to a room of her superiors. Kara hadn't said much about it other than the facts that she recalled. She'd never openly cast blame on Laura for sending her there, nor did she outwardly mourn over what had been taken from her. In fact the only true emotion Laura could remember Kara expressing was the satisfaction she'd felt in burning the Farm to the ground rendering anything they'd taken from her unusable and putting the rest of the captive women there out of their unspeakable misery.

The other women, Laura thought as her cheeks suddenly flushed. If Simon and Cavil were experimenting on her then chances were great that they were doing it to others. Even if it wasn't for the same reasons. They had done it back on Caprica. Why not here where they had access to dozens of female Colonial prisoners? Kara mentioned being treated for fibroids was curious. They'd already taken an ovary from her. Laura's stomach rolled as she began to speculate just why Kara was there with her. A farm they weren't, but the two of them could very well be the beginnings of a frakked up little garden.

"Gods we need to get out of here," she said, palming at her forehead.

"I agree, Ma'am, but if there was a way I promise you I would have figured it out by now," Kara said, crossing her arms.

"That…that doesn't mean a new opportunity won't present itself," Laura posed.

She had to remain calm for the time being. Alerting Starbuck to her suspicions would only send the hot-headed pilot into a rage and she couldn't risk the Cylons overhearing them talk about it. They'd be separated instantly.

"You always do that," Kara complained, interrupting Laura's rapid train of thought.

"What?"

"That politician crap. You make optimistic ideas sound completely logical and probable when really they're just hopeful."

Laura momentarily pushed her anxiety down far enough to offer up a smile.

"Would it make you feel better if I said, we're frakked?" she kidded.

"Yes," Kara returned.

"Well…we are pretty frakked," Laura winked, letting out a low soft giggle in spite of the darkness of the matter.

Starbuck cracked a smile and for a moment she began to laugh along, but in the span of a single breath her grin crumpled and her chuckles devolved into sobs all over again.

"Kara?" Laura called out to her, growing more and more worried over the girl's apparent unstable emotional state.

"I haven't laughed-" Starbuck attempted to speak, the words squeaking passed her tightened larynx. "I-I haven't even seen another human in so long."

Laura's heart sank in her chest. What had this poor young woman been through? And what were they going to inflict on her next?

"Come here, Kara," Laura beckoned, reaching out for her again. "Come over here."

Despite the pain it caused her Laura scooted over to one side of the bed making room for Kara to perch next her.

For a moment Kara hesitated to sit, but once she did Laura arms encircled her, holding her sob wracked body as she cried and cried.

For a while Laura just let her bawl, gently rubbing at her arm and wrapping her in the first human embrace she'd felt in so long.

When the worst of the wailing was over, leaving a wake of quiet tearful weeping Laura began to speak softly beside Kara's ear.

"I've been dreading the thought of one day having to tell Apollo and the Old Man that we lost you. But you're alive, praise the lords, you're alive, Kara,"

Laura said, almost as if she were reminding her.

Kara suddenly felt warm for the first time in months. Truly warm. She'd developed a deep chill during her confinement. No matter how high Leoben would turn the heat up for her in the flat she always felt cold to her core. Finally there was warmth. She'd never been particularly affectionate herself outside of her romantic relationships. At least not in any conventional way. She'd also never felt exactly comfortable or at ease around the president. Not even once she wasn't president anymore. But in that moment having Laura Roslin's dulcet voice whispering comforting words in her ear while being held in her arms made Kara feel like a child being rocked to sleep with a lullaby.

"You're alive, Kara," Laura said again, giving her a gentle squeeze.

Kara sniffled and cleared her throat.

"For now."

BATTLESTAR GALACTICA

FLIGHT DECK EXIT CORRIDOR

"Apollo!" Athena shouted.

She'd caught Lee Adama exiting his raptor just in time. Not wanting to confront him on the deck she'd followed close behind him into the passageway to the exit corridor.

"Apollo!" she called again as he stopped in his tracks and looked over his shoulder. "Apollo, can we talk for a second?"

"Commander," Lee sternly corrected upon seeing who it was who had been calling him.

Athena flinched at her own misstep as she rushed to where he stood. She'd been so eager to speak with him that she'd become flustered, forgetting the protocol she was still getting used to.

"Commander," she rectified, stopping to properly salute him.

Lee frowned, looking at the Eight as she stood at attention. He could still hardly believe that his father had allowed it. A Cylon wearing the uniform. Nothing about it felt right. He couldn't help thinking of Laura Roslin and how abhorred she would be to learn that not only had his father allowed a toaster to become a full fledged officer, but that he also had afternoon tea with her in his quarters several times a week.

"What can I do for you LT?" he reluctantly asked, already late for his Captains meeting.

Athena relaxed her stance and let out her held breath.

"Well, Sir, you can start by calling off your campaign to abandon more than half the human population."

"Excuse me?" Lee scowled in the face of the Eight's blatant audacity.

"I think your reasoning is misguided and with respect, Sir, it's also shortsighted. I-"

"Hold on a second, Lt. Agathon," Lee interrupted, his tenor both cross and extremely irritated. "My father may let you speak to him with that kind of familiarity and disrespect, but-"

"I'm sorry," Athena attempted, wincing as she realized she'd cut him off. He was obviously angry. It wasn't going well, but she had to press on. "I- I apologize, Commander."

Lee looked back at her with narrowed eyes and his brow creased.

"You've voiced your concerns to the Admiral already, I'm sure. If you're not getting anywhere with him then you won't be able to with me so I suggest you move on," he advised, ready to turn and be on his way.

"But you're the one who changed his mind," Athena returned, halting his leave.

Lee's eyes went wide. He couldn't believe the nerve she had to even attempt such an overstep. His father's behavior had fostered this over-familiarity and now the Eight turned pilot had no sense of boundaries. What was he thinking?

"This is way out of line, LT. You wanted to be an officer on this ship, you better start acting like one," Lee barked.

Athena sighed, finding herself scrambling for a way to get him to listen. She wasn't intimidated by the younger Adama, but that wasn't the point. She needed to get him to hear her out.

"Then can I talk to you as a friend and not a subordinate?" she appealed.

"You are not my friend," Lee returned with an icy glare.

"Fine," she relented with a shrug. "Can I just talk then? Will you listen?"

"To what?"

"To the fact that leaving New Caprica behind isn't the right choice."

"Says who?" Lee scoffed. "We're lame ducks in open water at this point. If we're ever going to regain any hope of finding a suitable home and surviving we need to get a move on."

"Surviving for a generation, maybe," Athena replied. "And that'll be the end of it."

"Pardon me, but what the frak are you on about?" he mockingly posed, but Athena took it as an opening.

"You remember what Laura Roslin spoke about during her campaign," she began. "Continuing the human race with the surviving Colonial population would have been a challenge even counting those left behind on New Caprica. The numbers, the rate of reproduction and the birth and death rates within the Fleet all add up to a bleak outlook. That's why Roslin enacted that law, that termination ban, because every potential birth counts toward sustaining humanity," she finished, swallowing against the dryness in her throat.

Of course her baby hadn't counted as human as far as Laura Roslin had been concerned, Athena's intrusive thoughts nagged her even as she made her case with the woman's own words.

"If you have a point, get to it," Lee demanded, his patience rapidly running out.

"That is my point," Athena returned. "There's more people down on New Caprica than there are here in the Fleet. You say you'll be moving on to find a home, and then what? You'll die out in a generation or two. That'll be it. You might have had a chance back when everyone was still together. Even then it was going to be a battle, but now? It's as good as over. You'll never keep up with the rate of reproduction needed to sustain the human population. So what will you really be doing by leaving? Saving yourselves. Saving your own asses. Finding somewhere to stay while your race quickly dies off. You might get to live your life, Sir. You, your wife and some of your peers, the lucky ones," she went on, "and you may even have a generation of children or two…and then…it'll be done…But maybe that's all you care about."

"What?" Lee sneered.

What the hell was she accusing him of and why did she even care about the issue? She'd gotten Karl Agathon and asylum within the Colonial Fleet. What else did she want from them?

"Without the rest of the existing Colonials who you'll be leaving behind humanity has no chance of long- term survival. That's just numbers. It's just fact. So please don't act as if leaving and moving on is the noble thing to do, Commander. Don't act as if it's the answer to saving your race because it isn't. It'll end it. And for the love of whatever you hold holy, don't try and convince your father that this is what Laura Roslin would have done. That's just twisting what she meant when she said the survival of the human race is paramount," Athena finished, straightening her posture and taking a step back as Lee's eyes flared with anger.

"Don't you dare lecture me on what Laura Roslin would do," Lee berated, "In fact, if I'm being frank, I'd rather not hear her name come out of your mouth at all. You don't know that woman. I do! And she trusted me!" he proclaimed, his heart dropping into his stomach as he did so.

He could still remember how that trust had once made him feel. There was a time when he thought he might do anything to keep Laura's approval. Now they were leaving her behind forever.

Leaving Laura, leaving Kara who he still loved; the thought made him sick. But if Laura Roslin had taught him anything it was that his personal feelings couldn't factor into his decisions as a leader. It was something she'd usually prevailed at and something his father so often failed to do. Lee wanted so much to be strong enough to follow Laura's example rather than repeat what he saw as one of his father's greatest shortcomings.

The reality of never seeing Kara again was keeping him up at night as he lay in his rack with his wife. It was killing him inside. He saw his father suffering in a similar way when it came to Laura and he felt for him, but that couldn't matter. The Fleet had to come first.

"Maybe she did trust you," Athena relented, dropping her hands to her sides. "What do I know? But can you honestly say she would trust in what you're doing now?"

NEW CAPRICAN TENT CITY

DWELLING OF TUCKER & NORA CLELLEN

Alone in his tent Duck finished packing his duffle and zipped it up on his bed.

In just a few short hours it would be all over.

He chewed on his lip as he took one last look around his tent.

Humble as it was, he and Nora had been so thankful for it in the beginning. Solid ground under their feet and some semblance of a roof over their heads. It was the promise of hope for their future. Not the one they'd expected or planned on, but the promise of possibility. There in their tent on New Caprica they could make plans to one day build a house, work hard and start the family they'd always wanted. But all of that was gone now.

Duck turned from his duffle bag and headed toward the dresser where Nora had made their prayer altar. His eyes went right to the framed photo of the two of them he'd put there the night after she was killed.

Duck gulped back the lump in his throat as he gazed upon his wife's beautiful smile. In that moment captured within the photograph she'd been so excited for what was to come.

Reaching over the altar cloth, Duck picked up a small quartz figure of Dionysus that had fallen over.

He held the little idol between his fingers and looked down upon it.

"I know I haven't lived a model life. I've made a lot of mistakes. This time I feel like I'm making the right choice, but I'm going to need your protection today," he prayed, placing the figure back on the altar.

Looking up into the cracked dresser mirror Duck let all the air out of his lungs before taking the deepest breath he could manage. The feeling was something he'd never really noticed before, constant as it was, the satisfaction of just breathing in.

Taking a final look at himself in the broken glass, Duck glanced back down at the picture frame and reached for it.

Taking it in his hands he tried to imagine how he'd felt in that frozen moment. He had to believe it was something he would feel again soon.

Making his way back to his bed he gazed down at the photo one more time.

"I'll see you soon, Nora," he said, tossing the frame on the mattress and picking up his bag.

NEW CAPRICAN CYLON MEDICAL CENTER

ROOM A8

Laura was in pain.

She'd held onto Kara for quite a while, surprised when the young woman actually drifted off to sleep in her arms. Kara had said she was up most of the night checking on her. Appreciative of how concerned and attentive she'd been and conscious of how emotionally drained she seemed Laura hadn't wanted to wake her, but with Kara's body weight pressed up against her it was making the increasing discomfort even worse. It wasn't the residual cramping from the retrieval or the deep soreness of the internal needle puncture that was bothering her most. Now it was her breasts.

Since her arrest she'd hardly been able to express any milk except for when they'd allowed her short bathroom breaks. It had been enough to take the edge off and keep things tolerable until they'd done the harvest. Laura had no idea how long she'd even been unconscious after it was over. Kara could only estimate how long ago she'd been brought into the room.

As the aching pressure built Laura couldn't help shifting with the discomfort and eventually the movement woke Kara from her unintended nap.

Apologetic and seeming a little embarrassed over falling asleep in Laura's arms, Kara made her way back to her own bed.

Unfortunately the absence of her weight hadn't given Laura the relief she'd hoped. She needed to get to a restroom soon.

It had been way too long and now her breasts were engorged, rock hard and impossibly sore. One side seemed to be worse off than the other and she began to feel an acute throbbing pain in addition to the overly full ache. She did her best not to draw too much attention to her distress. With Kara already in a precarious emotional state Laura didn't want her to be burdened by her predicament as well. More than that she knew the conversation it would undoubtedly spurn.

For as long as she could she kept it to herself, but Kara Thrace was observant and there wasn't much to do in the hospital room other than stare at one another.

"Ma'am?" Kara called from her bed.

"Hm?"

"What they did to you," she tentatively began. "The procedure…"

"Yes?" Laura prompted, turning onto her side to face her as she tried to hide the pain from showing on her face.

"Did it…Did it have to do with the baby?" Kara asked, flinching as the words came out of her mouth.

Laura froze for a moment and swallowed hard considering how to reply.

"So you've heard," she said, keeping her eyes downcast.

"Then it's true?" Kara asked. Sitting upright in the bed her brows knit together foreshadowing the return of her tears. "You really had a baby?"

Looking over at the worried young woman beside her Laura couldn't help but almost feel annoyed that she appeared to be on the brink of breaking down again. The last thing she wanted to do was console someone else over her own child.

Reminding herself of how close Starbuck was to Bill she pressed on, choosing her words as carefully as she could.

"A few weeks ago," she confirmed.

"And he's…he's dead?" Kara's voice trembled and cracked.

Inwardly Laura cringed detesting that she had to lie to her.

"They told you?" she asked instead, avoiding a direct answer.

Kara nodded as the inevitable tears began to spill down her cheeks again.

"Ma'am, I'm so sorry," she offered with a hitched breath. "I didn't believe them. I prayed it wasn't true."

"It's been…difficult."

"The Admiral," Kara wept. "Gods."

Laura wasn't sure what to say. She didn't want to add any more details to the assumed lie. She didn't want to talk about it at all.

"So this procedure…I mean, what did they do to you here?" Kara asked with a sniff, wiping at her face in an attempt to compose herself.

Laura sighed. She was going to have to give her some kind of explanation.

"I was still experiencing some bleeding from delivery complications. Bleeding that should have stopped on its own by now. When they took me into custody they assessed me and decided to bring me here to the hospital to help mitigate it."

"And that's why you're in pain?"

"Partly," Laura sighed as she tried to discreetly press her thumb against a swollen duct in an attempt to counter the gnawing pressure. "They said it would be expected."

"I don't believe anything they say," Starbuck bitterly replied. "Even when they're telling the truth it's to cover a bigger lie."

Laura pulled the bedsheets up to her neck and curled into herself tighter. Kara was right. Whatever the Cylons confessed to, the truth had to be so much worse.

"Kara, when are you supposed to go in for your procedure?"

"I dunno," Kara said, shaking her head and anxiously chewing at her thumbnail. "It doesn't even hurt anymore. Who knows if I even need it? Who knows if they're even doing what they claim?"

"I'm surprised no one has been in to check on us," Laura observed, wondering how the hell she was going to get out to find a bathroom.

"Someone came while we were both asleep. They left your glasses. I put them over there," Kara told her, gesturing to the bedside table.

"Oh," Laura uttered, looking over to find them placed nearby.

She hadn't had them in her possession since Baltar gave them back on the basestar. As soon as she'd arrived at the medical center they'd been taken again. They looked almost alien to her sitting there and for some reason she didn't reach for them.

"I don't think it'll be long til someone else shows up," Kara shrugged. "I sort of have a daily visitor."

"Who?" Laura frowned, observing her unease.

Kara gulped back the immediate urge to divulge everything she'd been through. That creepy frakking Five we airlocked! He's held me captive this whole time, she so badly wanted to cry out.

"Just some frakked up toaster," she said, shaking her head. "A Five. I dunno."

Before she could ask anything more Laura winced as a sharp pain pierced through her left breast.

"Ma'am? What's wrong?"

"Who the frak do we call to get to a restroom?" Laura griped, sitting upright in the bed.

She couldn't wait anymore. She had to try to give herself some relief.

"No one," Kara answered. "There's one right over there. Guess they put us up in a suite."

"Oh thank the Gods!" Laura exclaimed as she began to tentatively shift herself off the bed.

"Sorry. I should have mentioned it when you first woke up. Can you walk?"

"Yes. I think so," Laura cringed, sliding off of the bed and holding on to its rail.

"Do you need some help?"

"No. I think I can manage," she insisted, but the first step she took sent a jolt of pain from deep in her pelvis up into her belly. "Frak."

"Are you okay, Ma'am?" Starbuck called after her, already starting to get out of bed to assist.

"Stay put," Laura said, stopping her. "I'll be fine."

Once in the restroom with the door shut Laura openly grimaced in pain. With her hand over the most excruciating point she attempted to take some deep breaths. It was an all too familiar setting, locked inside of a tiny bathroom, clutching her breast in agony. The sense that it had all happened before was setting off every nerve in her system. She was beginning to feel as though she was on the verge of another panic attack.

Without knowing when someone would come to check on them Laura couldn't afford to waste time in the throes of hysteria. She had to get on with it and it never seemed to work well when she was anxious. She needed to try and relax.

Turning on the sink she prayed for warm water.

The faucet ran hot almost immediately. Of course the Cylons made sure they had plenty of hot water running on their side of the city while they let the entire Colonial encampment suffer without reliable plumbing.

Glancing around the tiny space Laura looked for anything that might be useful to her. A small stack of washcloths sat folded on a metal shelf.

Grabbing two she tossed them both in the sink basin. While they soaked up the hot water Laura untied her hospital gown with unsteady fingers. She was quite aware that what she was about to do was going to be incredibly painful. It had never been this bad before. Not even close. As she palmed her breasts they both felt knotted and uneven. The overfilled ducts formed lumps under her skin. It was eerily reminiscent of the feeling of a tumor and as Laura's fingers grazed the largest mass that sat tauntingly under her biopsy scar bile rose in her throat. The memory of first finding the cancerous lump in her left breast flashed in her mind. She'd known in an instant that day as the pads of her fingers pressed into her tender flesh that death had come for her.

"Damn it," she swore under her breath.

She had to get a hold of herself. She tried to focus on the beating of her heart as her blood pumped through her veins. The blood that Hera had blessed her with, the reason she wasn't sick anymore. She wasn't sick, she told herself again and again.

After wringing out both dampened washcloths Laura placed one over each aching breast and tried to calmly count to thirty. She needed to trigger a let-down and the cold stale hospital air wasn't going to make it easy. Despite the pain Laura tried to knead at each breast through the warm cloths in preparation. She decided she would try the right side first. The left was going to be far worse. The throbbing there felt like some kind of bodily haunting; the ghost of her past illness coming back to terrorize her. She was dreading even touching the swollen duct.

After a few minutes leaning over the sink trying to express the built up milk by hand Laura's frustration was peaking. It wouldn't come, at least not enough to make a difference. She managed a few drops here and there, but the tell-tale prickling sensation of a milk let-down evaded her. She tried the warm cloth again. Finally a little more came, but it stopped quickly and she felt no better for it. Angered and exasperated with the arduous task, Laura decided to switch sides. It had to be done no matter how much it was going to hurt.

But it didn't just hurt.

Once she started it proved to be nearly intolerable. She wanted to scream. It felt like there was broken glass inside her flesh with every compression and nothing was coming of it. A drop or two and then no more.

In the absence of flowing milk, Laura's tears streamed freely. Her breath was ragged and she couldn't help but let out a few whimpers and groans as she struggled. She worried Kara could hear her.

The mass had grown bigger and she could hardly bear to touch it.

It was no use. She was just causing more swelling. She would have to stop, relax her body as much as she could and then try again.

She was in pain, but the thought of having to ask the Cylons to help after what they'd just put her through hurt even worse. She wouldn't let them touch her again. Not if she could help it.

After using the toilet and washing up Laura did her best to compose herself and returned to her hospital bed.

"They'll be in soon to do rounds," Kara told her. "If you complain enough they'll probably give you something for the pain to shut you up," she suggested after watching Laura for a while.

She was in obvious distress after returning from the restroom. No matter how well she thought she was hiding it, Kara could tell she was suffering.

"I don't think that'll help I'm afraid," Laura answered, her voice low and restrained, as if she were repressing a cry of anguish.

"Why not?" Kara questioned. "I came in the other day doubled over with the worst cramps of my life. They shot me up with something and I wasn't feeling a damn thing after that. They've got the good stuff."

Through no fault of her own Kara's voice was beginning to grate on Laura's nerves. Not because she was irritated by the girl's well meaning concern, but because it was taking most of her concentration just to breathe through the pain she was in. Not only that, but her anxiety was through the roof. The cursed location of the painful mass was tormenting her beyond just the physical discomfort. She knew she needed to try to relieve the pressure again soon. She had to try and calm her nerves as best as she could, but it was more than apparent that Kara was starting to grow more worried. With a deep sigh Laura decided to let her know what was really going on. At this point it would take less effort than trying to hide it any longer.

"The soreness from the procedure isn't what's getting to me, Kara," Laura began. "It's…well, it's been too long since I was able to express any breast milk and now I'm engorged and I can't relieve it," she explained, bracing herself for the inevitable questions.

"Engorged?" Kara scowled.

"Yes," Laura winced, turning to her side and curling in on herself.

"What's that mean?"

Laura's jaw clenched. As glad as she was to have found Kara Thrace, the growing pain and agitation she felt was making it increasingly difficult to tolerate her curiosity and desire to converse. She hoped telling Kara the truth about what she was experiencing would at least stop her from continuing to pry.

"It means my breasts are too full," she muttered through her teeth.

"Frak," Kara swore, cringing at the description. "That can happen?"

"Apparently so," Laura answered, more tersely than intended.

"How do you usually stop it from happening?" Kara asked.

Laura closed her eyes and counted to ten, gathering the patience and strength needed to speak.

"The midwife gave me a manual breast pump. That works best. Without it I can usually do it by hand, but now the pressures built up for too long. I think there's a blockage on one side at this point."

"What can I do?" Kara asked, already climbing out of the bed and making her way over.

"Nothing, Kara," Laura told her. "Don't worry."

"Don't worry?" she scoffed, arriving at Laura's bed side. "Look at you. You're shaking."

"I'll be fine," Laura insisted. "It'll pass."

"It will?" Kara said skeptically. "Frak, that must hurt like a son of a bitch."

"About as painful as you'd imagine and then some," Laura replied. "I'm usually better at tolerating pain. It's just…" her explanation trailed off leaving Kara nervously looking over her trembling body.

Kara had seen the president give press conferences near death. She was sure that Laura Roslin had been in terrible pain during that time, and yet she'd watched her bear it all until the day she couldn't stand on her own two feet any longer.

Her cancer, Kara considered. Was that what was making Roslin's current condition so especially grievous?

Her thoughts went to veteran soldiers who had suffered injuries or trauma in battle and years later could be triggered into episodes of panic by even minor injuries and situations that somehow sparked their hellish memories.

"This reminds you of being sick, doesn't it?" she presumed, not thinking twice before asking.

Laura momentarily looked up at Kara, squinting at her through the slits of her eyelids.

If she'd intended to say something she decided against it, closing her eyes once again and tucking her chin to her chest as she hugged herself even tighter.

"Try not to freak out. You're ok," Kara attempted to counsel. "It's not the cancer."

"I know that, Kara," Laura grumbled in irritation.

"I know you know. I'm just trying to help remind you. Your body's responding to the memory. It's a trauma response."

"Thank you, Kara. I understand, I just…"

"Sorry. I'm just trying to help."

"It's okay. I do appreciate it."

Kara took a seat at the foot of Laura's bed wishing there was something she could do. Maybe if she distracted her from the memory of the pain of the past she would only be able to focus on the current discomfort, she contemplated.

"My mom died of cancer," she said, instantly cursing herself over the stupidity of her choice of topic. She was supposed to be steering her mind away from the subject.

Had normal conversation become so foreign to her that she couldn't stop herself from blurting out any thought that came into her head?

"So did mine," Laura reluctantly replied after a long beat.

Talking through the pain wasn't comfortable, but it was forcing her to let out the breaths she kept holding as she tensed up at every shocking pang.

"Of breast cancer?" Kara asked.

"Yes."

"So it runs in your family?"

"Afraid so."

Kara looked over her shoulder to see Laura's eyes still squeezed shut in misery and she shivered at the sight of her. She'd never really had the desire to have a child anyway, but as she witnessed the anguish on Laura's face she knew for sure that she never wanted any part of the process. There was no way she ever wanted to subject herself to such a taxing physical state. Frak that.

"My mom had stomach cancer," she continued, kicking her feet like a nervous child as they hung off the side of the bed. "She smoked like a damn chimney. You'd think it would have been her frakkin lungs. Anyways, I bet you took care of your mom, huh? Visited her when she was sick and all that?"

For a moment Laura didn't reply and Kara began to wonder whether she'd decided to ignore the question or if she just couldn't find the will to speak anymore.

"I did," Laura eventually answered, her voice halted and strained. "As much as I could until her dying breath."

"Of course you did," Kara said, chastising herself for asking. Why wouldn't she have? That was normal. It was expected. Laura Roslin had probably come from a normal family.

"What about you?" Laura asked, to Kara's surprise.

"What about me?" Kara stalled, suddenly deeply regretting the road that she'd let her nervous rambling take them down.

"Did you help care for your mother when she was sick?" Laura returned the question.

Kara looked back over at her. Her eyes were still shut, though not as tightly.

She felt awful for the poor woman's condition, but the fact that she wasn't looking back at her made it a little easier to respond.

"We weren't even speaking at the time," she admitted with a shrug. "She never told me. I…I was angry. So was she. She…died alone."

Kara's cheeks began to burn with a mix of shame and grief.

"I see," Laura softly acknowledged.

There was no noticeable tone to her response and Kara couldn't really tell what she'd thought of her admission.

"I didn't think she wanted me there," she awkwardly added.

This time she looked over to see Laura's expression turn from her own discomfort into a look of pained pity.

"Were you her only child?" Laura asked.

Kara leaned back on the bed a bit, bracing herself at her wrists where Laura's feet would have been if she were not tucked into a ball. Despite the subject matter Kara was glad to find her talking a little more. Maybe it was working.

"Yup. Her one and only disappointment."

"Do you regret it?" Laura followed. "Not being there, I mean?"

Kara's cheeks warmed again at the question. No one but Zach had ever even cared to ask her that.

She glanced over at Laura again. This time her eyes were open.

"Only every day of my life," she confessed.

Laura offered her best attempt at a sympathetic smile.

"I would have died alone back when I was ill…" she began, her voice far less curt than it had been before. "I mean I was surrounded by people but…"

"You still felt alone."

"Yes."

"I get it," Kara told her. It was a feeling she was well acquainted with. "The Old Man, he stayed by your side though. I mean he was there with you a lot in LifeStation. Wasn't he?"

"He was," Laura nodded. "When he could be. It wasn't the same between us back then…but I suppose it's one of the reasons I-"

"It's okay," Kara stopped her. As much as she knew she should be over it by now she just wasn't eager to hear the details of how the President and the Old Man had fallen in love. "You don't have to explain."

"You either, Kara," Laura reminded her, closing her eyes again.

Kara swallowed and nodded, though she knew Laura wouldn't see.

"How long is it going to last?" she asked, killing the brief silence.

"The pain?"

"All of it," Kara clarified. "Won't your body eventually figure out that it doesn't need to do this anymore? I mean frak. When's it stop? You can't keep producing milk the rest of your life. You're not a dairy cow."

"I don't know," Laura replied, nuzzling her face deeper into her pillow as the throbbing began to increase again. "I think everyone is different."

"Sorry. I don't know much about this stuff."

"I didn't either until it happened to me."

"It just seems so frakked up and unfair that you have to deal with this. I'm sure it sucks to have a constant reminder of him."

Laura grimaced at both the pain and Kara's oblivious remark.

"I don't think I could stop thinking of him for a moment either way."

Starbuck felt her heart plummet in her chest at Laura's mournful remark. How awful. The Gods could be so cruel.

She wondered what the baby had looked like. The poor thing had never even gotten the chance to take a breath. She closed her eyes for a moment and tried to remember baby pictures she'd seen of Lee and Zach. She wondered if he had the indicative Adama-blue eyes. Her stomach lurched as she realized that Laura probably never even got to see him with his eyes open, born as if he were forever sleeping.

"Did the Old Man know you were-I mean before the Fleet left?"

"No. I didn't even know at that point."

Kara wasn't sure if she still believed that the Admiral and Lee would return for them. How could they even attempt it with the entire orbit of the planet occupied? But she couldn't help but think of how the Old Man might react to finding out about the baby if he ever did come back. He already had to live with the loss of one son.

For a moment she imagined how he would have reacted if he'd returned and the baby had actually survived. She wondered how Lee would have taken it. Maybe it would have brought them some sense of joy; a tiny addition to their family who had lost so much.

"Ya know, I used to want a little brother so bad," Kara began to recount. "All the kids in my building had siblings. It was military and veteran housing so the place was crawling with Fleet brats. It seemed like every kid I knew had a brother or sister or a few of each. I was the stereotypical lonely only child," she went on. "Did you have any siblings?"

"Two younger," Laura replied, leaving it at that.

"I used to think about what it would be like to have someone look up to me, to show how to score a goal in pyramid. Someone to keep me company," Kara continued, recalling how she'd most wished for a sibling on nights her mother was out late and she was left home alone to fend for herself. "But my mom was such a frakkin mess. I knew another kid would only make things worse for us and so I prayed to the Gods she'd never have another child no matter how much I hated being the only one," she finished, shaking her head.

When Laura only let out a little hum in response Kara suddenly felt foolish for oversharing again. What the hell was anyone supposed to say to all that anyway, she internally scolded herself. Maybe Roslin was offended at the implication that she would have even considered the baby boy her brother.

Clearing her throat Kara shifted slightly on the mattress.

"I was just wondering," she hesitantly spoke again, "did he have a name?"

Laura's eyes suddenly flew open wider than they had since she'd awoken startled out of her drug-induced sleep.

Kara instantly regretted her question.

"Kara, I don't want you to take this the wrong way," Laura started, her words firm yet not exactly unkind, "but I can't talk to you about him right now," she stated with finality. "One day if you and I ever get out of here I will, but I just can't now. I'm sorry."

Kara gulped down her embarrassment and nodded.

"You don't have to be sorry. I'm an idiot. I never know when to shut the hell up and it's just been so long since-" Kara's words abruptly stopped as she noticed beads of perspiration had appeared on Laura's forehead. Her breathing also seemed a bit labored and she was obviously flushed and shivering. "Frak, Ma'am," Kara exclaimed, shooting up from where she was perched on the bed and turning to face Laura. Leaning over, she placed her palm over the woman's rouged cheek. "Damn it. I think you have a fever. Can that blockage cause infection?"

"Yes," Laura said through chattering teeth. "I think it probably has.

NEW CAPRICAN TENT CITY

DWELLING OF SAUL AND ELLEN TIGH

"Hey," Sam greeted, stepping into the tent to find Ellen sitting at the table, her chin resting in her palm propped up by her elbow.

He shouldered the satchel he held and frowned at the sight of her. She wasn't happy to see him. She wasn't angry either. There was nothing. No emotion. She just looked tired.

"Saul's out," she flatly responded, watching as he made his way toward her.

"I know," he told her when he got to the table. "I came to see you."

"Oh."

"How are you feeling?"

Sam had spent as much time at the clinic tent with Ellen as he could, considering the mess he had to help his men clean up. Once he'd assisted Saul in getting her home he'd tried to give her some time to rest.

"Better than I was before the clinic," Ellen shrugged. "At least I know what's wrong now."

Sam nodded.

"You scared me," he told her, taking the bag from his shoulder.

The memory of rushing her to Cottle limp in his arms as her terrified husband struggled to keep up had been playing in his head over and over since she'd collapsed.

"I scared myself," she said with a sigh.

Sam gave her another nod.

"Have you eaten anything today?" he asked, holding up the bag in front of her.

"I just had some tea," she answered. "Took the pills Cottle gave me."

"That's not food," Sam grumbled, turning the sack over to spill its contents on the table. "Here," he said as half a dozen rolls fell out in front of her.

"What's all this?" Ellen asked, taking her head from her hands and leaning back in her seat.

"Bread. You remember bread. Flour, water, yeast. Used to come in little baskets at the bistro after you ordered your martini," he teased. "It's still warm. Eat up."

Ellen looked down at the little rolls scattered in front of her.

"Thank's Sam, sweetie. I just can't right now. Maybe in a little while."

Sam paused, looking at her with narrowed eyes, before tossing the empty sack to the table.

"You're supposed to be taking better care of yourself," he said, pulling out the other chair in barely restrained aggravation.

Flopping down into the seat with a huff, he ran his palm over his face. Ellen watched him but said nothing.

Sam felt guilty.

Doc Cottle had said Ellen's heart condition was probably brought on by her drinking. She was an adult and responsible for her own decisions, but Sam had undoubtedly made it easier for her to self-destruct to the point of physical illness. He'd told himself he was keeping her safe and out of the way. He'd figured if she just had booze on hand she wouldn't go out looking for it, wouldn't be out drunk late at night.

Even when Cally and Galen got on his ass for it and accused him of enabling her, Sam justified his reasoning. He never let her go without and with the bootleg hooch being made daily he hardly knew what he was bringing her half the time. Now he felt like he'd poisoned her.

Consumed with remorse, Sam attempted to apologize for his part in Ellen's condition while she was still at the medical tent. It only caused Saul to lash out at him and the shouting stressed Ellen even more.

"You promised you'd start doing what Cottle told you," he attempted. "Drinking more water, eating three meals a day, getting enough sleep," he listed as she stared back, her eyes vacant and unblinking.

"I know that, Sam," Ellen responded. "You don't have to remind me."

"Obviously I do."

"I have Saul to lecture me. He doesn't need an echo."

Sam shook his head and chuckled darkly under his breath.

"You know if you die, it'll kill that man," he told her, fully intending it to sound like the accusation that it was. "You might as well just take him with you."

"I'm not dying! For frak sake," she snapped and Sam was actually relieved to see a spark of the women he knew return for a split second.

"You have a heart condition, Ellen! And you're skin and bones" he shouted back, stopping himself from continuing his rant. He felt foolish for yelling at a sick woman. She was just being so dismissive. It was maddening. "I- I feel like you're disappearing," he confessed, his voice slightly cracking with the threat of the tears he held back.

Ellen rolled her eyes, unable to face his raw expression of concern.

"Oh, holy Zeus on the mount! Could you be more dramatic? Give me a damn roll. I'll eat it if that's what'll make you feel better."

"It's not just that, Elle," Sam said, looking back at her in a mix of disappointment and dejection. "Something's wrong. It's you. Not just your body, not just your health. It's the light in your eyes…your strength, your humor, it's all fading away," he told her, gulping down the emotion rising in his chest. "It's like you're disappearing right in front of my eyes. I can feel it and it scares me as much as your heart does."

"Sam-"

"You used to talk to me," he pressed on. "When we first met and got to know each other, it just felt right. Felt easy, like I'd known you all my life. Now there's this distance. And I know part of that's my fault. I've been…withdrawn and I'm sorry for that. But I know what you're going through. I know it too well. But ya know what? Saul's still here. You're acting like …well, like you've already lost him. And I think that's frakked up. You don't know how much time you have left with him. For a lot of reasons, but mostly because none of us do. That's life. The uncertainty is terrifying and it can be depressing. I get that. But right now Saul's here. I wish I had even a few more days with Kara. I sure wouldn't waste that time letting myself go and frakking wallowing in what-ifs."

Ellen's eyes went down to her lap and all the tears that had welled as Sam spoke began to fall onto her skirt.

"You think I can control any of this?" she asked, the words shuddering out of her in whispered anger.

Was he joking? Surely he understood that if she could make things better she would.

That was what she'd started out trying to do. That was her goal. She'd tried to make it her entire purpose; to secure her husband's safety, to ensure that their lives were less uncertain. She'd given it all she had and where had it gotten her? Her good intentions had been weaponized against her, held over her like a looming scythe.

But what did Sam know? Nothing. All he saw was a woman self-destructing. And he couldn't know. If he did he wouldn't be sitting across from her looking so sullen.

"If you can't," he began in earnest," if you feel out of control or if there's something going on beyond the stress and your illness then please tell me. Let me help. I'm your friend, Ellen," he said, reaching out to take her hand across the table.

He didn't know what he was saying, but she loved him for it anyway.

Within the Fleet Ellen had found herself quite lonely. Gone were the days she could call up her girlfriends to meet for weekend brunch or go out for a ladies night with the women from her real estate firm after work. She was a long way from Picon. The women who she used to laugh and sip cocktails with while flirting with cute young waiters were all long dead; the bistros and bars they'd frequented all turned to rubble and left behind.

Ellen had eventually made some drinking buddies on Cloud 9 and a few acquaintances aboard Galactica, but she'd known that most of them would never have claimed to be her friends outside of her presence. Not with all the rumors and scuttlebutt constantly circulating about her within the Fleet. It hadn't really bothered her at the time. She was so thankful to be alive, so thankful to be reunited with Saul that she didn't care if she had anyone else in the world as long as she had him. She'd put her energy into making sure their place in the Fleet was secure. She wasn't there to make friends.

But then they found New Caprica and for all its darkness the planet had reminded her of how precious the light of friendship could be.

Without the oppressive ship politics the sudden equalizing of status had changed everything. She'd gotten to know people and they weren't embarrassed to get to know her. She'd been so glad to befriend the Tyrols and Kara Thrace and most of all Sam Anders.

It was so easy with Sam. They understood one another. They laughed and laughed and Saul wasn't even jealous. He was glad to know him too.

Whether she was sober or not Sam listened to her as if every word that came out of her mouth was the most interesting thing he'd ever heard. Now it hurt to see him so disappointed and to know what he would think of her if he ever found out just how deeply she'd really frakked up.

"You are," she told him, looking up and smiling at him despite her tears. "You are my friend, Sam."

Worlds ago he'd studied at her feet for years until she'd lifted him up to walk beside her in shared dedication to the preservation of their race. They had been each other's confidantes, enjoying a mutual passion for their work and a true friendship that extended beyond their labratory to birthday dinners and joint beach holidays.

All of those memories had been obliterated. But Cavil couldn't erase the feeling of kinship anymore than he could erase love. They survived all things and they were all that remained.
"I'll always be here for you," Sam pledged, squeezing Ellen's hand.

Her eyes watered and her entire body shivered.

When Sam left the clinic tent the night she was there, finally reassured that she was stable, he told her that he was going home to get some rest. She'd smiled, thanked him and said goodnight, pretending as if she didn't know that Saul was sending him to go help bury the dead body of a confirmed traitor.

She was only one loathsom visit with Cavil away from such betrayal and the thought of it made her mouth go dry.

"I won't hold you to that, Sam honey. Always is a long time."
"Then here's to a good long time," he said with a playful smirk, attempting to lighten the mood.

Ellen stretched in her seat, suddenly feeling confined.

"Ugh. I really want to take a hot shower," she complained through a yawn.

"Eat a roll and then I'll walk you over there," Sam proposed. "But I want you to hurry on back here as soon as you're done."

The realization of why he wanted her home so quickly made Ellen's blood run cold.

"How much time is there until-"

"Couple of hours," Sam answered, cutting off the question so she didn't have to say it, so he didn't have to hear it out loud.

"That poor sweet boy," she lamented, shaking her head and dabbing at the tears that had quickly sprung to her eyes at the thought of Duck's sacrifice.

How devoted he was to his wife, she thought. Without his Nora nothing was worth it. His love for her surmounted all and now there were no limits left. Ellen understood it and she almost pitied anyone who couldn't. It meant they'd never known a love so beautifully consuming.

"Here," Sam said, holding out a roll.

Ellen took it from him with a strained smile that she could only muster through the desire she had to put her friend at ease.

Putting the bread between her front teeth she gave him a wink before taking a bite.

NEW CAPRICA CITY

CYLON DISTRICT

"Caprica Six?" D'Anna greeted, sidling up to her sister as she walked.

"D'Anna," Caprica returned, surprised to see her.

"Where are you off to?" the Three asked, giving her signature feline smile.

Caprica hesitated to respond, she hoped not long enough to draw suspicion.

"A member of Gaius' staff has taken ill," she told her, reciting the excuse she'd decided upon on the way over on the chance might be asked. "Gaius sent me for a visit to check on him."

"Still playing First Lady, I see," D'Anna quipped.

"Hardly," Caprica defended, abruptly deciding to stop walking before they got any closer to her destination.

Something about the way the Three was forcing the conversation had her unnerved. She wouldn't continue on until D'Anna left her alone.

"Sorry," the Three smirked. "Didn't mean to offend."

"It's- forget it, D'Anna."

"I haven't seen you much. You must be excited for the coming blessing."

"I don't know what you mean," Caprica frowned, doing nothing to hide her displeasure.

"Yes you do," D'Anna said with an arched brow. "The child that'll soon be conceived."

"I'm sorry, D'Anna, but I just don't share your vision when it comes to that. I don't feel like God could be pleased with the plans that have been made. Not this way."

"Yet you called Roslin's baby a miracle," D'Anna challenged.

During Laura Roslin's pregnancy Caprica was quite obviously captivated by the situation. It wasn't just the awestruck look in her eyes that she had when in Roslin's presence or the zeal with which she spoke of the woman and her baby. It was a palpable feeling that exuded from the Six. D'Anna hardly had to read or scan her intentionally to pick up on the strange fascination. It emanated from her entire being. The fact that she wasn't just as eager for the conception of the child that would lead their way into the future seemed almost offensive.

"All babies are miracles," Caprica professed.

"Now that's just not true," D'Anna chuckled.

"I have to get going," the Six insisted, deciding that her sister wouldn't be taking up anymore of her time. "The police academy is holding a graduation ceremony in a few hours. Gaius is supposed to attend. He's been saying that he doesn't want to go anymore, but if he changes his mind or he's forced I want to be back in time to escort him."

"Sounds like First Lady duty to me," the Three teased.

Caprica frowned, rolling her eyes at the childish ribbing

"Goodbye, D'Anna," she bid her turning away and walking off at a far greater speed than she'd left off.

"Would you like some company?" D'Anna called after her.

Once again Caprica halted her steps.

Maybe they were already on to her. Maybe D'Anna had been sent to tail her. Maybe she should leave the area and come back later.

"No. Not really," she said over her shoulder. "I just want to visit this poor sick man and head back."

"Suit yourself," D'Anna relented, but as Caprica turned to continue on her way she shouted out to her one more time.

"If I were you I'd spend some time in deep prayer, Caprica," she said to the Six's back. "The truth may come to you there."

Caprica didn't stop this time.

"I pray every day," she asserted, without turning or breaking her stride. "Same as you."

"Then try praying more directly, Six! For clarity!" D'Anna hollered watching her sister walk away.

Caprica brusquely walked onward, not bothering to respond again to her sister's pontificating.

Keeping her confident gait, she entered the hospital with an air of purpose, as if she belonged there. Careful to avoid eye contact with any of her siblings she kept her head down and swiftly made her way to the staff locker room.

It was mostly empty when she entered, though someone was in the showers causing the room to be filled with a light haze of steam. The medical center was run by mostly Fours, Twos and Eights. Other models were present to lesser extents and she didn't feel as though she would seem too out of place as a Six. What would make her stick out, she decided, were her plain clothes indicating that she was a visitor. She wanted to be able to move around as she pleased unquestioned.

After scanning the area once more for good measure Caprica found a row of freshly laundered white lab coats hanging from a rack of hooks on the wall. Removing her overcoat she stuffed it into the nearest free locker. Quickly making her way to the white coats she grabbed one and slipped it on.

Caprica exited the locker room with her head down, resuming her determined pace as she passed a busy Two who paid her no mind.

Soon she'd arrived in the unit that she was almost positive Laura would be in.

Caprica paused out of view of a single Eight that sat at the unit's central desk.

She needed to get to the computers.

With quiet careful steps Caprica moved toward the nearest open door and peeked inside.

Within the room a Colonial man slept soundly in the hospital bed. Slipping inside the room she headed toward him.

Her frustration grew as she failed to find what she was looking for. There was no call button in sight and she had to wonder if it had been taken away from the human patient intentionally.

Caprica observed the man for a moment. His breaths seemed even and his heart rate was steady on the monitor beside him. From what she could tell he didn't seem that bad off.

Reaching down over the bed rails as cautiously as she could, Caprica gently slipped the pulse oximeter off of the sleeping man's index finger, flatlining the read on the monitor.

An alarm instantly rang out.

As fast as she could she exited the room.

Ducking into the nearest supply closet Caprica waited until she heard the commotion of footsteps rushing toward the alarm.

Peeking out from her cover, Caprica observed the open door. She could hear several frantic voices inside the man's room.

Without wasting another moment she darted back to the desk where the Eight's chair now sat abandoned.

Caprica went right for the computer screen.

With her hands to its control pad she'd found what she needed almost immediately.

Room A8, patient; Laura Roslin.

What she hadn't expected was the second occupant listed.

They'd put Kara Thrace in with her.

Biting at her lip, Caprica paused the room's security feed and then closed out the application.

Wasting no time she left the desk and headed to her destination.

NEW CAPRICA CYLON MEDICAL CENTER

ROOM A8

"There's nothing in these damn cabinets," Kara complained, slamming a cupboard door shut and yanking open a drawer.

After Laura's blatant refusal to let her try to call for help Kara began a frantic search of their hospital room hoping that she'd find something that might be of use.

"Kara, stop," Laura groaned. "Sit down. They're probably watching."

"You'd think they'd have something in here. An aspirin, a heating pad, some fever reducer, a frakking bandage. Something! It's all empty! This place sucks! What kind of hospital is this?"

"It's fine," Laura insisted. "Just sit down."

"Then you've gotta let me call for help!"

"Don't!" Laura shouted, losing her patience.

"Why not? You're sick!" Kara argued.

"Kara, I don't want their help, dammit! I don't want to be touched by them again anymore than you do! Now, please just-"

Laura's words were interrupted as the door handle began to turn.

"Someone's coming," Kara said, turning to see the door push open.

"Damn," Laura swore under her breath.

They'd probably heard them shouting and were coming to investigate. They would see she was ill, she thought as the door opened.

"Oh frak, not one of these," Kara caustically groused as a Six stepped into the room, carefully closing the door behind herself.

"Hello," the Cylon woman greeted as Kara stood between the beds scowling at her. "Capt. Thrace."

"Haven't seen one of your kind in a while," Kara remarked, looking the Six up and down. She'd never seen one in a lab coat before. Maybe one or two in scrubs. She almost looked out of place. From the way the Six was dressed under the white garment it made her look like one of the plastic fashion dolls that were so popular when Kara was a kid, all dressed up to sport a new career; teacher, model, pyramid player, doctor.

"Nice outfit," she snorted. "So are you people just gunna leave us in here to rot or what?"

The Cylon's eyes traveled over Kara's shoulder paying no mind to anything the young woman was saying

"Laura," the Six called as she found her in the far hospital bed.

"Caprica?" Roslin replied, struggling to lift her head from her pillow. "Caprica," she repeated, this time with confident recognition.

Though her voice sounded groggy and pain laced, Kara was almost sure she heard a hint of what sounded like relief, as if Laura was somehow glad to see the Six.

"Caprica?" she questioned as the Six rushed to Laura's bedside. Was that its name? Why Caprica of all things? "You two know each other?" Kara posed, but the question went unanswered.

Roslin seemed to recognize the Cylon woman, but how?

"They've done it," Caprica lamented, her face immediately crumpling into an expression of grief and regret as she saw the pain in Laura's eyes. "I'm so sorry," she wept.

"Done what?" Kara pressed, but the Six continued to ignore her.

"You're in pain," Caprica said, looking Laura over in worried dismay. "Didn't they give you anything for it?"

"Go ask one of your twisted sisters," Starbuck jabbed.

"Kara!" Laura snapped in aggravation causing the young woman to take a step back.

Kara opened her mouth to reply, disgruntled at being spoken to like an intrusive child interrupting an adult conversation, but the Six spoke before she could get a word out.

"You're flushed," she observed, gently touching Laura's cheek with the back of her hand. "You don't look well. I'm going to call a nurse."

"No! No, Caprica, don't!" Laura exclaimed catching herself and the two other women off guard when she reached out and grabbed the Six's hand. "Please don't."

Caprica looked down at where Laura had gripped on to her, holding on not in an act of aggression but one of beseechment.

Laura needed her.

Her heart began to race.

Behind the Six Kara looked on in a mix of revulsion and confusion. The entire scene was bizarre.

What the hell was she witnessing?

Roslin picked the Cylon out in an instant, somehow identifying her from hundreds of copies.

Now, not only was the Six hovering over Laura Roslin like a worried mother hen, Roslin had reached out and taken her hand as if it were an anchor amidst the waves in a turbulent sea.

"You're suffering, Laura," Caprica told her. "They did this to you. They can at least give you something to ease your discomfort."

"No, Caprica, that's not it and I don't want their help with this."

"Then what's wron-," Caprica stopped in sudden realization and for a moment she wasn't sure if she'd guessed or somehow read it within the woman's desperate eyes. She recalled the last time she'd escorted her to relieve herself of the built up milk supply. "It's your breasts."

"She's got an infection," Kara complained on Laura's behalf. She needed some kind of help and it was clear she wasn't going to ask for it on her own. "Are you frakkers just going to let her lie here sick?"

"An infection?" Caprica echoed, still dismissing Kara's taunts and keeping her focus on Roslin.

"I think so," Laura replied, hesitant to go on. "Is- is anyone listening to us?"

"There's a visual feed, but I paused it before I came in. The room surveillance that goes to the desk has no sound. I can't rule out the possibility that they've added audio, especially to this room, that's being fed and monitored elsewhere, but at least no one in the immediate vicinity can hear us."

Laura nodded in uncertain acceptance.

"Don't believe her," Kara warned.

With a heavy sigh Laura looked into the Six's eyes searching them for any signs of dishonesty. She found none despite all logic and reason. Whatever it was that she could physically sense coming from her, it felt genuine.

"I haven't been able to express any milk in hours," she admitted. "Since before the procedure actually. I'm engorged and there's a large throbbing mass on one side. It's beneath the mark from my biopsy. I think the scar tissue might be causing it. The midwife said the ducts there might be narrowed or damaged. It's killing me. I can hardly stand it. I can't get a let-down at all on the left. I think there's a clogged duct that's become infected," she explained.

"Then you need help," Caprica urged.

"But I don't want them to know," Laura argued, wincing through another bout of pulsing pain.

"Uh, news flash," Kara scoffed. "You just told them."

"Caprica, if they find out…" Laura began, leaving it at that in the hopes that the Six would understand the multiple reasons why she didn't want Simon and his staff aware of her condition. It would only incite suspicion. Without actively providing milk for an infant there was no reason that she should be producing enough to be in her current state weeks after delivery. They might question why. At the very least they would probably attempt to stop it with medication. At this point she knew it was in her best interest to let them, but she couldn't bear it. She couldn't lose the last part of Will she carried with her. Irrational or not, she wasn't ready and she didn't want the soulless fraks to touch her again after what she'd been through.

Finally Caprica nodded.

Laura let go of her hand dropping back onto her pillows with a sigh of temporary relief.

"Can you do anything on your own to help?" the Six questioned. "Like last time?"

"I've been trying to work it out manually, but I can't. If I had my breast pump the force of the suction might be able to clear the blocked duct," Laura explained, recalling the notes and instructions Meri had given her after Will's birth.

She'd been so depressed at the time she'd hardly read any of it herself, but Maya had been vigilant, reading it all aloud to her and making sure she heard every word of it whether she wanted to or not. There was a protocol for treating blockages. Even if she had the pump Laura wondered if she could endure it. Just sitting there in bed with her hospital gown rubbing up against her was agonizing and she felt her blood pressure rising with each aching throb.

To make matters worse the night after her biopsy kept replaying in her mind.

They'd given her a few days worth of painkillers to take home and she'd refused to even open the bottle. She just laid in bed that night, her breast throbbing and the pills sitting on her nightstand. She'd told herself she deserved it. That she had no right to dull the pain when she'd intentionally let the damn tumor go unchecked for so long. She was getting what she'd asked for. Her mother, her sisters, her grandmother and aunt, they would all be so angry at her for letting it get so bad, and yet all she'd wanted was to be with them again.

"It's just…It's godsdamn excruciating," Laura rasped.

"You sound so out of breath, Laura," Caprica fretted, shaking her head. "This really seems like an emergency."

"No. It's not," Laura insisted, even as her words caught in her throat. "I mean, not in that way. I'll be fine."

Caprica watched Laura wince and press the heel of her hand into the side of her breast. As much as she claimed she would be okay without assistance, Caprica could quite literally feel the poor woman's rising panic.

Laura's breathing became more and more labored and soon Kara was rushing over to the side of her bed shouldering the Six out of her way.

"Easy, easy," she attempted to reassure in a firm but soothing tone. "Deep breaths. There's no tumor. That's all gone."

"Of course it is," Caprica remarked, perplexed as to why Kara Thrace would even mention the woman's past illness. "That's not-"

"She's having a trauma response," Kara sharply snapped over her shoulder. "Back off."

"Oh," Caprica said, but it took a moment for her to understand what Thrace was insinuating. "Oh, I see."

"Do you, toaster?" Kara jabbed, turning back to face Laura. "Ma'am, are you gunna fill me in on who this robo-bimbo is?"

"Kara, please," Laura groused. "Not now."

"Where's the pump, Laura?" Caprica asked, stepping forward beside Kara to reclaim the spot she'd been pushed out of.

"It's in my tent," Laura replied before letting out a grunt and a harsh puff of air. "Somewhere. Probably stored under the kitchen block."

Caprica attempted to calculate how long it would take her to get there and back.

Restore the surveillance, return the lab coat, get to the Colonial encampment, retrieve the pump, return to the medical center, reacquire the coat, disable surveillance, deliver the device, she internally listed.

She might not get back to Gaius in time to intervene if he was forced to leave for the graduation ceremony. She really wanted to be there for him.

Caprica looked over at Laura to see her brow furrowed in pain and her overly full chest rapidly rising and falling. She wondered again how little Atlas was being fed with his mother locked away. Would he ever get to be nourished by her ever again?

Gaius would have to handle things on his own, she decided.

"When they come in to do rounds you tell them your pain is from the procedure," Caprica instructed. "At least whatever they give you for that should minimize the discomfort until I get back. Understand?"

"What the frak is going on?" Kara mumbled to herself, shaking her head.

She was beyond confused.

"Caprica, please," Laura said, grabbing onto the Six's wrist before she could turn away. Caprica looked back at her with a mix of fear and determination in her eyes "Please, don't get caught."

NEW CAPRICAN TENT CITY

DWELLING OF GALEN AND CALANDRA TYROL

"Cal?" Galen said from his chair, watching his wife as she paced back and forth with their son in her arms.

"Cal," he called again when she didn't answer, this time a bit more firmly.

Finally she paused in her tracks turning to face him as if his voice had registered on a delay.

"You're not gunna leave before it happens, are you?" she asked again, looking at him with eyes fraught with quiet dread.

"No. I told you already. No," he attempted to reassure her, putting the files he held to his lap.

"Gods. This is so frakked up," she said as she took up her treading again.

"Can you at least stop marching around?" Galen asked. "Nick's gunna get all worked up."

Cally stopped and sighed, looking down upon the baby in her arms. All the repetitive movement had put him to sleep, but Galen was right. If she didn't stop, she'd eventually wake him up.

With her lips to his head she walked over to his little cot and gently placed him inside, holding her breath until she was sure the transfer hadn't disturbed his nap. So often she would spend forever rocking her son to sleep in her arms only to have him wake up crying as soon as she put him down, the loss of contact immediately rousing him no matter how deeply she thought he was out. Sometimes he just needed her to feel safe enough to rest.

Sometimes the feeling was mutual.

As much as Cally felt the exhaustion of motherhood and longed for an uninterrupted night of sleep, often she just needed her baby beside her. When fears of the future consumed her thoughts, when regrets and worries ate at her in bed keeping her awake at night, sometimes taking Nicky from his cradle to sleep nestled next to her was all she needed to find the peace and warmth she needed to finally relax.

"How much longer?" she softly asked as she adjusted the baby's blanket.

Galen chewed on his lip, considering how he should answer.

"I can't say exactly. Ceremony should start in about an hour."

Cally's eyes watered at the thought. An hour more and they would never see Duck again.

"Gods," she wept as she began to pace again.

Galen watched her, unable to focus on the papers in his hand any longer.

She sniffled and wiped at her eyes with her sleeves.

"Cally," he said, once the tears began streaming down her cheeks. "Cal, c'mon. Sit down."

Halting her stride, Cally made her way over to her husband.

Galen gently took her hand pulling her down to him to sit on his lap.

"I hate this," she cried, burying her face in his neck.

Galen let out a heavy breath as she continued to weep in arms.

"Me too, Cally. Me too," he softly spoke into her hair. They'd known it was going to be a hard day, but the anticipation was grueling. "I know this doesn't make any of this any better…" he began, pausing to contemplate whether he should even continue, "but Duck…he made sure the Colonel and I knew that he'd made up his mind. Mission or not."

Cally lifted her head to face him, scowling as what he'd said began to sink in.

"You mean he was going to kill himself anyway?"

"I think he thought so. I think the mission just gave him the opportunity. Planned it out for him, gave him the means. He told us that even if we called it off…he wasn't changing his mind."

Cally's eyes filled to the brim again.

"You're right that doesn't make any of this feel any better."

"I'm sorry. I guess…I'm just sorry."

Galen wondered what would have happened if the excuse had not presented itself. Would things have ended the same way if Duck hadn't lost Nora amidst such bleak circumstances? If she'd died from an illness or an accident and not as a casualty to the violence of war would he have been able to heal? Would he have grieved and moved on with life, perhaps finding another young woman he could love and build a life with? Perhaps he could have, if everything around them wasn't so harsh and unforgiving. But in their grim reality where there was so little warmth and goodness, where was one to find the hope of another new beginning after such a loss?

"Are we gunna hear it?" Cally cringed.

"What?" Galen frowned, momentarily confused by her question.

"I don't want to hear it when it goes off," she sobbed, her head falling back down onto his tear-dampened shoulder. "I can't. I can't stand it. I can't listen to that knowing it's Duck."

Galen gulped. Of course they would hear it. As long as it detonated the way it was supposed to. The city wasn't far from the encampment at all and knowing what Duck had been strapped with, they were bound to hear something when the time came.

"Hold on, Cal," he said, grunting as he stood from the chair and lifted her in his arms.

She held on tightly, whimpering in his ear as he carried her to their bed.

Putting her down on the mattress as gently as he could he let out a low groan at the twinges in his back.

"Try to go to sleep," he said looking down at her.

"Sleep?"

"Just a nap," he nodded.

"I can't," she scowled, shaking her head.

With a sigh Galen looked over at Nicky's cot and then made his way over to it.

Leaning down he picked up the sleeping boy, cradling him in his arms.

The baby stirred just a bit and Galen made soothing shushing noises as he carried him over to his mother.

"Shhh, go to mommy," he softly whispered to his son.

Without a word Cally reached out and took Nicky clutching him to her chest.

Crawling onto the bed next to them Galen curled up close, putting a protective arm around his wife and child.

"Try to sleep," he whispered to his little family. "Just try. Close your eyes. Let's just sleep."

NEW CAPRICAN TENT CITY

Finished with her shower Ellen headed home. She'd taken far longer than she'd promised Sam,

having relished in the water running hotter than usual. She'd stayed under spray letting it wash over her until her legs grew tired from standing there.

She felt refreshed and more clear-headed than she had in days.

In the shower she'd noticed the bruises on her hips and pelvis were changing color from deep purples and blues to even more unpleasant yellows and greens, but she knew it meant that they were healing and that soon they would disappear. As long as the One didn't inflict more before they faded she wouldn't have to hide her body from Saul for much longer.

After Cottle discovered the shape she was in she'd spent the better part of her stay in the medical tent avoiding his questions and declining his offers of help. The doctor expressed his concern repeatedly whenever he found her without Saul or Sam at her bedside. He was obviously disturbed and Ellen couldn't even look at him after a while. The poor old bastard was at a loss, appearing positively dismal as she denied every extension he made of assistance or support.

"If you're gunna keep making that face just stop looking at it," she'd attempted to joke at one point while he was looking over the area marred with contusions. "You're starting to make me feel bad for you."

The fact that Cottle couldn't bring himself to return her chiding with a quip of his own was all the more depressing.

Cottle discharged her with a reminder that his offers of assistance still stood if she changed her mind at any time.

But he couldn't help her; not in any way that would really make a difference.

Ellen was just thankful it no longer hurt to walk as she made her way through the encampment.

There was no telling when Cavil would call her back. She just wanted a little longer to heal before it happened all over again.

As she headed down the wrong row of tents she tried to tell herself that it wasn't because she would pass Maya's home. She tried to convince herself it wasn't so that she might get another look at the mysterious little girl who lived there. She'd changed her mind. Hadn't she? The child was off the table. Wasn't she?

The One would be looking for information soon and deep down Ellen still didn't know what the hell she was going to offer him.

Disgusted, Ellen hung her head as she continued forward, telling herself that she wouldn't take a second look at the child even if she was in fact outside the tent.

Walking on, a thought came to her.

She would be passing Laura's tent as well. Changing the reason she was there wouldn't erase the original intention, but maybe it would help her sleep easier.

When Sam had asked her to try harder to make better choices she was sure this sort of thing wasn't what he had in mind. His sweet soul still thought simple bread and rest could repair her heart.

He had no idea.

Ellen shifted the bag that held her meager toiletries and dirty clothes to her other shoulder. Reaching into her coat pocket she searched for a match. With how much Saul smoked on New Caprica she'd taken to sticking them everywhere to avoid his grumbling when he found himself without a light.

As her fingers brushed the nearly empty book Ellen looked down the row toward Laura's tent.

It was still there; the knee high statue of Leto holding her children. The little memorial shrine the people had made outside Laura's home. Ellen had mostly avoided looking at it since it went up and the various flags, prayer beads, stones and incense had begun to be left around it. A tribute to a supposedly dead baby she knew was alive and well just seemed so morbid. She wondered how Laura could stand to see it every time she crossed the threshold.

But now Laura was gone, Ellen considered, and no doubt enduring an unspeakable violation. Baby Will's fate was more harrowingly uncertain than ever. Somehow lighting a candle at the foot of the statue and saying a prayer for mother and son didn't feel like such a bad idea anymore.

Nearly there Ellen looked toward the tent trying to see if there would even be an unspent candle there to light. A woman in a hooded coat caught her eye walking from the other direction. When the woman stopped in front of Laura's tent Ellen paused. Another citizen had the same idea, she supposed. She was in no mood to endure a conversation with some random citizen about Laura's most recent arrest. Deciding to hang back a bit Ellen waited for the hooded woman to say a prayer or leave a token, but when she instead reached for the tent flap's outer closure Ellen's brow rose in alarm. It looked as if she was trying to enter.

Ellen couldn't see the strange woman's face, but she was decidedly too tall to be Tory or Maya. With no bottles to deliver to the foster home Cally had stopped collecting them. Ellen couldn't think of anyone else who would have a lick of business entering Laura Roslin's tent.

Her blood began to boil considering that a stranger had the gall to enter the former president's home uninvited. Before she knew it the woman had slipped inside and she was rushing over with every intention of finding out who it was and what the frak they wanted.

Soon Ellen was at the tent entrance. With all thoughts of her candle and match forgotten she pulled the flap aside and stepped in.

She immediately spotted the woman standing with her back to her. With her hood still donned she stood hunched over rummaging through a box of kitchen supplies.

"What the frak are you doing in here?" Ellen sternly demanded, causing the strange woman to gasp and freeze in place. "I said, what are you doing here?"

The woman straightened her posture, taking in a long audible breath before lifting her hands up to push the hood of her coat back.

"Laura Roslin is ill," the Six said as she turned around to face Ellen.

Ellen felt the blood drain from her face upon seeing the Cylon standing there. Her heart began to pound and she was so filled with fear and anger that the painful tightness in her chest didn't even register.

She almost thought to run, but then the Cylon's words hit her. Laura was sick?

"What the hell did you monsters do to her?!" Ellen shouted, still clutching the tent flap, ready to bolt at any moment.

"I need to find her breast pump," the statuesque blonde said, taking a few steps closer.

"What?" Ellen replied, bewildered as to what was going on.

Why the hell was there a toaster in Laura's tent looking for that? Had they found the baby?

"She seems to have a blockage," Caprica began to explain. It was the Colonel's wife. If anyone could help Laura Roslin she figured Tigh's wife would at least know who to ask. "She's in pain. She's been trying to hide it from the Cylon medical staff, but now she's asked for my help."

"Frak," Ellen swore, trying to compute all of the claims the Cylon was making.

"I can't find it," Caprica told her.

"Why don't you let her free so she can get what she needs herself!?" Ellen nearly growled in return, spouting her rage over Laura's arrest in the face of the Cylon, but despite her ranting the Six remained pensive showing no signs of returned aggression.

"Can you help me?" she asked. "She's in so much pain, she's got chills. She seems to have a fever."

"And you don't have something there she can use in that big fancy hospital of yours?" Ellen said, letting go of the tent flap and crossing her arms protectively in front of herself.

Caprica shook her head.

"She doesn't want the Cylon doctors to know she's still actively expressing milk," she attempted to explain as best as she could. "She said she's been able to do it by hand since her arrest, but last night one side stopped responding. There's a large mass."

"Frakkin mastitis," Ellen mumbled under her breath as she recognized what the Cylon woman was describing.

"What?" Caprica asked, tentatively taking a few steps closer toward the agitated woman.

"It's a clogged duct that swells and then becomes infected," Ellen explained. "Gods, why am I telling you this?!" she exclaimed, losing her patience.

What the hell was this Cylon really doing?

"She wants to try and relieve it," Caprica attested. "I offered to come get the device for her."

"And she agreed?" Ellen said in disbelief.

"Yes."

"She'd never trust a toaster! Never."

Caprica looked down at the tent floor, avoiding the woman's angry eyes for a moment. Something about them was taxing, almost draining. She wanted to look at her. She wanted to try to convey as much honesty and trust as she could, but she felt caught, exposed, almost naked in front of the woman's wild angry glare.

"She trusted me," Caprica asserted, looking back up at her.

"Why should I believe you?" Ellen posed.

"I guess I don't have an answer for you," Caprica conceded. "I want to help. But I can't find it. It's not where she said it would be."

Gods what if Laura was really sick, Ellen considered. What the hell was she supposed to do?

"Maya…Maya's probably been in here to clean up," Ellen muttered to herself, throwing her bag to the floor and making her way to the kitchen area. She immediately opened the little cupboard Bill had constructed. "She probably washed it and hid it away," she pratted on, shifting a few items around. "Here it is," she said, pulling the device out.

"Oh thank goodness," Caprica said with a sigh of relief that sounded so sincere Ellen felt a chill go down her spine.

"Why the frak should I trust you?" she snapped, turning to face the Six again.

"I don't know," Caprica shrugged, at a loss. "Laura is…at least she's willing to take the risk I suppose."

Ellen's frustration reached its hilt, her eyes filling with tears and spilling over to stream down her cheeks. What was she going to do now? She was well aware that the Clyon woman could just rush over, take the device and snap her in half if she wanted to. What if this was some kind of test, some kind of game on Cavil's behalf? Once again she found herself with no real choice in the matter at hand, just helplessly waiting to see what would happen next.

"Are they ever going to let her go?" she cried out overwrought with fury and dejection.

"I don't know," Caprica plainly admitted.

"What are you out of the loop or something?" Ellen snidely mocked.

"You could say that."

"I suppose you're also going to claim that you don't know what they're doing to her?"

Uneasy as it made her, Caprica forced herself to look the other woman in the eye again.

"I know what they've done," she told her.

Ellen felt as if the wind was suddenly knocked out of her lungs.

"It's done?" she asked, without much volume to her words.

Caprica only nodded in regret, this time knowing that she had to look away.

"You all disgust me!" Ellen suddenly lashed out. "Murderers and rapists! That's what you all are!" she shouted through rolling tears.

"Not all of us," Caprica contested. "Same as you humans."

"If you really wanted to help Laura you would get her out of there!"

"She's not well," Caprica reminded her. There was nothing she could do about Laura's imprisonment at the moment. She needed to keep the focus on the problem at hand. "The pain- I get the feeling that- I mean, I think it reminds her of her illness, "she explained, recalling what Kara Thrace had implied. "She's quite anxious and upset. She needs this."

"Gods, I cant frakkin believe this," Ellen wept.

Caprica watched the other woman standing there with the device clutched to her chest and tears streaming.

"Do you know how he's being fed without her?" she asked.

Ellen's stomach sank. The Six knew the baby was alive?

"I don't know what the frak you're talking about."

Caprica frowned, her question still going unanswered.

"I just want to help her."

"Why do you care?"

"I-"

"You frakkers take my husband whenever you please!" Ellen cut off the Six before she could even begin her reply. "You took Laura, you took Kara from Sam. You just take, take, take! You have no idea the level of pain and destruction you cause. And I just can't figure it out. You all seem so angry and so hateful. The other side of hate and anger is love and compassion. I never thought they could exist without each other and I just don't get how you seem to have all the hate and anger in the worlds and you still don't have a clue what it is to love."

Caprica felt an inexplicable swell of emotion as she stared into the desolate eyes of Ellen Tigh, this time unable to look away.

Though she was unaware, somewhere in the recesses of the Cylon stream, deep within the database where all the Sixes before her both living and dead stored their memories, there was an inkling of recognition that echoed through the network and into her mind. It was something leftover from past generations, from the first Six ever made who had once looked into the same tired woman's eyes and seen her mother looking back at her. It was merely a remnant of that memory reaching Caprica's consciousness, and though she had no idea why and no idea where it was coming from she suddenly felt the momentary urge to reach out for Ellen and be wrapped in her arms like a frightened child.

But there was no affection returned in the woman's expression, no warmth or sympathy and Caprica couldn't understand what had caused the strange emotive response besides perhaps a shared sense of loss, desperation and fear.

Her own eyes welled and she quickly wiped the tears away with her sleeve.

Ellen looked back at the weeping Six with all the resentment she had for every Cylon she'd ever encountered. She had no memories of old affections for the model or of how they'd come to be.

The first Six, her first Six, had been a collaborative effort between Saul and Sam. At first Ellen had scoffed at the overtly sensual design. Tory had even accused both men of being piggish. That was before they divulged what they'd apparently had in mind. They'd made the Six as a tribute to Ellen, so they'd claimed; designed to honor her brilliance and devotion. Saul insisted that he'd based the model's image on the way he remembered her when they first met. Sam stated that he'd used her eye color and skin tone, replicating it exactly.

"I know how much you've always wanted a son, Elle, but...if you'd had a daughter, I think this is what she would have grown up to look like," Sam had told his beloved mentor. "As beautiful, brilliant and strong as her mother."

As much as Ellen wanted to stay angry at them she couldn't dismiss their sweet sentiments and she came to ador the childlike wonder of the model. She loved the Six's curiosity and how they felt everything so poignantly. She just had no memory of any of it anymore.

"Don't be afraid to have big feelings," Ellen had once told her very first Six. "Your emotions are as real and as valid as anyone's and they're a gift. Never run from them. Even a broken heart is a blessing because it means you've known love. Feelings are everything. They're you. They're your whole existence, what makes up your soul. They are how we experience each other, how we perceive all things. Without them life isn't worth a damn. Emotions are how you know you're alive. And you are alive. Don't ever doubt that. Don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise."

Neither woman could recall those words and yet somewhere within the Cylon stream they reverberated aimlessly waiting for a consciousness to call home again.

"You may think I don't know what it is to love, but don't believe that's true. I can't believe that's true," Caprica answered, breaking the thick silence between them. "Will you help me to help Laura?" she asked, reaching out for the device again, this time clasping her hand around it as Ellen firmly held on.

Why was this toaster woman even asking? Couldn't she just snatch it and go? Why was she acting as if there was a choice in the matter?

Ellen tilted her head as she looked at the Six and the thought occured to her that the copy seemed broken. Maybe damaged somehow. It didn't look the same as the others she saw around New Caprica. It was nearly identical, of course, but something about it looked off, as if its signature ice blue eyes had melted into two reflecting pools.

This one was defective, Ellen decided, totally unaware that there wasn't another being alive who would be able to tell such a thing just by looking.

It would have to be defective, she rationalized, to be helping Laura behind the backs of its ilk.

"Get to her fast," Ellen told the Six, finally releasing her grip on the pump.

Caprica took hold of the device.

Before she could offer her thanks the sounds of a far off boom rattled the tent's posts.

Both women froze in alarm, awaiting what might follow.

"What was that?" Caprica whispered.

Ellen felt all of the air leave her lungs as the image of the young man she knew had just met his end flashed in her mind's eye. She clutched at her chest when it tightened in pain and she struggled to take a breath in.

"It's another day in hell," she rasped at the Cylon.

"Now frakking go!"

Caprica rushed out of the tent as if on Ellen's command, but she stumbled onto the dirt path just a few yards away catching herself before she fell.

People were scurrying around, nervously fleeing into their tents and shelters. There must have been an explosion, she presumed. The boom they heard was too powerful to be much else.

Her attention was drawn toward the distinct zoom of tandem motion. Turning to find where it was coming from she saw a half a dozen centurions charge past the end of the tent row headed in the direction of the city.

The boom had been muffled by the thick tent canvas, but it sounded as if it had come from a distance away. Someplace further than the hospital or dormitories.

Suddenly Caprica's heart lodged in her throat.

The police academy.

Gaius.

What if he'd changed his mind? What if they'd forced him to go?

Caprica closed her eyes against the stinging of the dust in the air and recalled the fateful moment when she'd first admitted her true identity to him and then covered his body with her own to shield him from the full force of what was coming.

She had to find him.

She had to make sure.

With the device stuck in her coat she ran toward his ship, her anger surging as she realized that he was probably the intended target. Several training groups had already graduated. His planned presence was the only thing that marked this ceremony as unique. As her feet carried her she wondered how much Laura Roslin knew of it. Had she set it forth?

Caprica ran, passing Colonials and Cylons alike, all appearing as a blur as she raced on.

Still inside Laura's tent Ellen let herself collapse on the bed. With her face buried in the mattress she wailed over Duck's sacrifice, unsure if she was bewailing the tragic loss of the young man or crying in relief that he'd finally been reunited with his wife.

Ellen sobbed until she had nothing left and soon she'd cried herself to sleep atop Laura's bed.

NEW CAPRICA CITY

CYLON ADMINISTRATION BUILDING

"Nine Cylon injured, four killed," Doral reported to his circle of siblings. "They're still counting the humans, but it's clear more of them were eliminated than us."

"At this point they're killing their own," Leoben remarked.

"Not in their minds," Boomer countered. "They see the human police force as traitors. They might as well be Cylons to them."

"She still knows how they think," John mocked with a roll of his eyes.

When Sharon glared at him he pretended not to notice.

She was so sick of it.

There wasn't a Cylon alive who understood Colonials as well as she did and he knew it. Her insight had proven itself to be invaluable many times over and yet he only ridiculed her for it rather than ever offering her an ounce of praise. The praise only came when she abided.

"It's been posited that Gaius Baltar was the intended target," Doral announced to the group.

"He wasn't there," a Four interjected, sticking his hands into his lab coat.

"But he was supposed to be," Doral continued.

"This morning his chief of staff sent notice of his refusal to attend. Claimed President Baltar was under the weather. We sent a small escort team to Colonial I to make sure he did in fact make the ceremony, but the frakking idiot had drugged himself into oblivion. No one could wake him, let alone get him to stand upright and walk off of his ship."

D'Anna smirked and let out a soft snickering at the Five's description.

"You find that funny, Three?" Cavil snidely ridiculed.

As much as D'Anna chastised her sister over her continued devotion to Gaius she couldn't deny she had her own soft spot for the man. She found him amusing and attractive enough that she'd accepted several invitations to join him and Caprica in the bedroom early on in the planet's occupation. Though she'd stopped participating in such activities months ago Gaius still humored her. Seeing no use in his planned graduation attendance, D'Anna did indeed find his farcical method of avoidance quite funny. Almost as funny as the thought of Caprica spending the night sulking beside his limp drugged body; together with her beloved Gaius and yet still all alone.

"It explains why Caprica Six is missing," D'Anna shrugged, avoiding the One's implied admonishment. "Probably trying to rouse the silly bastard from his stupore."

"Whether killing Baltar was the goal or not the insurgency is out of control," Doral went on. "The transport yard, then the power station. Now this. They're getting more brazen with their targets. They've infiltrated the police force. Who knows how many Colonial rebels have already gotten through the training process and are holding security posts. They could be anywhere."

"He's right," John agreed. "So perhaps it's time to instill a little more fear into the people's hearts and minds," he posed. "How about this? We round up the leaders of the insurgency and we execute them publicly. We round up random groups off the street and we execute them publicly. Send a message that the gloves are coming off. The insurgency stops now, or else we start reducing the human population to a more manageable size. I don't know, say, uh, less than a thousand."

"We need to stop being butchers," Sharon urged. "The entire point of coming here was to start a new way of life. To push past the conflict that's separated us from humans for so long."

"And what has it gotten us?" D'Anna argued. "Stop it, Eight. You don't believe that's possible anymore, admit it. Caprica isn't here. You don't have to keep up your allegiance to the campaign you two began. We have a new goal toward human and Cylon integration. And so far it's going well. Isn't that right, Four?"

"Despite a small setback, yes," the white coat clad copy confirmed.

"A setback that will be remedied in just a few days," Leoben interjected over-eagerly causing both Sharon's and D'Anna's brows to furrow.

"Yes," the Four confirmed. "Laura Roslin's procedure was a great success. Surprisingly so. We'll be ready to move forward shortly."

"You see, Eight?" D'Anna reaffirmed. "God is showing us the way. Perhaps put your passion toward this path."

"You're looking too far into the future, D'Anna," Sharon scowled. "You're ignoring what's in front of your face. The Colonial population on this planet still exists and public executions are not going to get them to stop fighting back. This isn't the way."

John folded his arms, sardonically snickering under his breath

"Let's see how much you like it when you're in the next building that your old comrades decide to blow to kingdom come," he taunted.

"Something has to be done," Doral insisted.

"Compile a list of Colonials. Both known resistance members and civilians," John ordered. "They decided it was okay to sacrifice a dozen or so of their own in one fell swoop. Let's see how they like it when we do it."

CYLON MEDICAL CENTER

ROOM A8

"Do you know where that boom came from?" Kara asked from where she sat on her bed chewing on her thumbnail.

"No," Laura lied.

That was it, she supposed. It was done; if the explosion was in fact what she presumed. The timing was right.

Perhaps she'd been wrong to oppose it, or maybe she hadn't fought against the idea hard enough, but either way it was over now.

Saul had accepted this new level of desperation they were facing and he was going forward as if the end were near. A proclamation that they'd light themselves ablaze before willingly succumbing to the flames of the enemy.

Laura pressed her palms to her face and prayed for the young man's soul.

"So are you gunna tell me what the hell all that was about?" Kara interrupted.

"What?" Laura replied, wincing through a deep burning sensation that seemed to be growing more severe by the moment.

"With respect, Ma'am, give me a frakking break. You know what I mean. What's the deal with you and that toaster?"

Laura looked over at Kara to find an expectant look on her face. She knew the expression too well. She'd seen it thousands of times over at this point. People looking at her, expecting her to say something that would make sense of the senseless, to offer them comfort in chaos. It was draining.

"I'm not sure I can explain it," she answered.

Kara's face fell at her response.

"Is there anything you can explain?" she sharply griped, unable to hold back her growing irritation.

"Not much these days," Laura admitted, her tone flat and her eyes cast down to her lap.

"We can't trust these frakkers," Kara continued to chastise. "You know that."

Laura had nothing worth saying that would justify her reasoning. Nothing that Kara Thrace would accept. She could hardly accept it herself.

"She's helped me before," she stated, aware it wouldn't do any good.

"And you bought that?" Kara scoffed.

Letting out a breath held too long Laura considered keeping her mouth shut and allowing Kara to sit with her unease and suspicions. She was in far too much pain to keep up with her scrutinization. Kara was right anyway. Trusting a Cylon was insane.

"Not at first, but she been-"

A clattering of commotion sounded from beyond the door causing Laura to abruptly halt her words.

Something was being rolled down the hallway, voices were rising and hurried footsteps racing.

"God's it sounds kinda crazy out there all of a sudden," Kara said, her eyes glued to their only exit.

"It's been so quiet here," Laura added, her gaze following Kara's to the door. "I've hardly heard anything out in the halls until now."

Starbuck tried to listen to what was being shouted out in the halls.

The boom must have been something big, she reasoned. A bomb, a crash of some sort. The hospital was suddenly buzzing with activity.

"Something's up," she whispered.

As soon as the words were out of her mouth their door rattled.

They looked at one another in a silent expression of alarm.

The door opened and to their joint relief a Six entered.

Kara quickly looked over to Laura for confirmation that it was in fact the Six they were awaiting. It was an uneasy acknowledgement that she knew she would be able to tell.

Laura glanced over at the Cylon watching as she closed the door behind herself. She offered Kara a nod of assurance. It was Caprica.

"It's about time," Starbuck greeted the Six. "Did you get frakking lost?"

The Cylon ignored her yet again, turning with intent and heading toward Roslin's bed.

"What's going on out there?" Laura asked.

"I'm sure you know," Caprica replied, her tone unusually brusque.

"I'm sure I don't," Laura returned, her brow arched at the implied accusation.

"Has anyone been in?" Caprica questioned, temporarily ignoring the hostility in the air.

She'd been so relieved to find Gaius aboard Colonial I, in bed and out cold, frakked up on God only knew, totally unaware that he'd escaped death once more. She'd allowed herself a moment to crawl onto the bed and hold his warm slumbering body. She wept in relief and told him that she loved him. He snored in return, his deep sleep undisturbed by her presence.

Satisfied that she'd confirmed his safety, Caprica left the ship and made her way back to the hospital.

"The only one who came in was a frakking useless orderly," Kara reported. "Brought us a new pitcher of water. Didn't even take our vitals."

"There are many injured and more incoming," Caprica grimly disclosed. "The medical staff will be occupied for some time. I paused the cameras again, but I doubt anyone has time to pay them any attention right now anyway."

"What happened?" Laura inquired again, this time gaining a watery glare from the Six.

"Please don't lie to me, Laura," Caprica spoke through the sudden tightness in her throat. "I've been honest with you."

Laura sat there perplexed by the hurt reflected in the woman's eyes.

"Why bother treating toasters?" Kara crassly posed, taking the Six's focus off of Laura. "Why not just blow your brains out and start over?" she argued. For the amount of times she'd killed Leoben it seemed like their bodies were as easy to change out as their socks.

"Life is precious, Captain," Caprica returned. "And death is still death no matter how many times one goes through it. It's not something any of us hope for. If we can prevent it we will. Besides, there were just as many Colonials killed and injured this time if not more. Our doctors are treating them as well."

"Colonials?" Kara scowled. "What the hell happened?"

"There was a rebel bombing. I'm sure you'll be filled in once I'm gone," Caprica replied, turning back to face Laura.

Laura shook her head in disbelief. Between Kara's irritation with her over the things she couldn't explain and the Six's sudden coldness in the wake of the attack she was ready to explode. What the hell did they want from her? Her breasts were on fire, her body ached from the retrieval procedure, she was battling constant anxiety attacks and despite any validity to their grievances they just sounded like two whiney little school girls in the face of her paper thin patience.

"Did you get it?" she prompted the Six, her tolerance hanging on by a thread.

Caprica reached into the lab coat's deep pocket and pulled out the pump gripping it in her fist.

"Gaius wasn't there, just so you're aware," she stated, hoping that Roslin didn't notice the slight quiver of her lip as she spoke. "He didn't attend today."

For a moment Laura studied the Six.

Her resentment over the targeting of Baltar seemed almost personal. If he was just their political puppet then why the hell did this particular Six seem to be expressing some level of hurt? And she'd done it before. Why was she looking at her as if she should be ashamed of having any hand in his assassination attempt? Whatever her issue was Laura had no time to contemplate it further.

"Give it to me," she said, reaching out for the device. "Please."

After a moment's pause Caprica handed it over.

"Did anyone see you?" Laura asked as she began to ease herself up off the bed.

"The Colonel's wife," the Six admitted.

"Ellen," Laura whispered.

"She said to apply a warm compress before trying to relieve the blockage," Caprica recited, moving aside to allow her space.

Laura nodded. She could only imagine what kind of interaction had transpired to have ended with Ellen leaving a Cylon with instructions.

"If anyone comes in I'll knock on the bathroom door twice," Caprica recited. "Leave the device in there and come out as quickly as you can."

Laura nodded over her shoulder before disappearing into the restroom.

"Why are you helping her?" Kara sneered as soon as the door clicked shut.

"She's in pain," Caprica replied, crossing her arms and perching herself on the rail of Laura's bed.

"What do you care?" Kara scoffed at her answer.

Unphased by the other woman's distrust, Caprica shrugged.

"She's been through enough."

Kara's eyes narrowed.

"I don't trust you. I don't care if she does."

"That's fine."

"Why does she call you Caprica?"

"It's my name."

"No, it was the name of my home that you Cylons nuked. So why go by the name of a place you saw fit to destroy?" Kara accused.

Nothing seemed to make sense about this skinjob and it was driving her crazy.

"I didn't choose it," the Six reluctantly explained. "It was sort of given to me."

"I'm not calling you that," Kara said, rolling her eyes.

"I didn't ask you to call me at all, Captain," Caprica stolidly returned.

The two sat in silence for a moment listening to the hectic noises in the hallway.

"So what really happened out there?" Kara posed. "What's actually going on?"

"There was a bombing at the police academy," Caprica stated, arms crossed and reluctant to continue the hostile conversation.

"Police?"

"New Caprican Police," the Six clarified, recalling how long ago Thrace had been arrested. "Colonial officers under Cylon administration."

"What?" Kara spat. "Willingly?"

"Yes."

"There's Colonials signing up to be Cylon cops?"

"Many."

"Lords. That's frakking disgusting."

"Well the Colonial resistance agrees," Caprica added. "The academy had a graduation ceremony today and an explosion was detonated during the commencement."

"Good," Kara said in heated disdain. "Colonials willingly working with the Cylons deserve worse punishment than the frakking toasters themselves. Motherfrakkng collaborators. Traitors. They had that coming. If I ever get out of here I'll kill the rest myself."

Caprica observed the vicious anger in the pilot's eyes. Such hatred.

How had she and Sharon been so foolish? Sometimes she wondered if it was their models' naivety; the Sixes and Eights' credulity and pension toward idealism. Had the other lines all known that what they'd proposed was always destined to fail? Had they all agreed to come without any real intention to ever peacefully coexist? Had she been deceived? If that was the case, could she really have been so blind to it? Boomer had so quickly tethered herself to John. Perhaps she'd realized it much sooner.

"That's all I know so far," she stated, hoping it would end Thrace's bitter questioning.

A muffled sound from the restroom took her from her contemplation. Looking over her shoulder toward the bathroom door she heard a distinct whimper.

"You keep a lookout," Caprica firmly instructed Kara as she rushed over to the restroom. "Laura?" she called through the door.

"What!?" the woman snapped on the other side, clearly distressed.

"Are you okay?" the Six asked.

"I'm-"

"Hey!" Kara scowled. "How 'bout you leave her the frak alone and mind your own business already?"

"How about you shut up and listen at the door for anyone coming?"

"What?" Kara glowered, giving the Six an angry pointed glare.

"You heard me," Caprica coolly retorted, her eyes narrowing. "I suggest you make yourself useful. If I recall correctly one of my sisters already kicked your ass good back in Delphi. Don't tempt me to finish what she started," she threatened as she yanked open the bathroom door.

Her heart sank as she found Laura standing there in tears, trembling over the sink basin.

"May I come in?" she asked.

As soon as Laura gave a nod of permission Caprica stepped inside, closing the door and leaving Kara behind mouth agape.

"Your hands are shaking, Laura. Have you been able to-"

"No!" Laura raged. "It's not working. It keeps slipping off," she cried, her voice hitching with every other word. "I can't do it. I'm having trouble even gripping it. My hands- It's no use."

Laura could hardly speak. She could hardly take a complete breath for that matter, let alone grip and pump the manual handle through the blinding pain it caused. She hated herself for losing control. She'd been warding off an episode all day, but she'd finally lost the battle. Now she was in the middle of a full blown anxiety attack and there was little she could do to stop it. She was afraid she would become lightheaded soon. She'd frakked up her only chance to help herself.

"Please, Laura," the Six said, looking at her with the same deep compassion she'd seen so many times before, "let me help?"

Laura would never know what possessed her to agree. Was it desperation or some strange version of trust? Whatever the reasoning, after a few long moments standing there with the Six in the tiny stuffy space with just inches between them Laura nodded in consent.

Caprica eased the pump from Laura's trembling grip.

"Try to relax," she whispered, wishing she was more familiar with words of comfort.

Laura was debilitated; distressed in a way that seemed mental as well as physical. Her hallmark composure was shattered and Caprica didn't think she'd ever seen her looking so overwrought before.

With unsure hands Caprica gently parted Laura's open hospital gown, feeling the thin fabric already damp from perspiration.

With Laura's feverish breasts exposed Caprica examined the device she held trying to assess how it worked. It wasn't something she'd ever seen before, but it seemed simple enough.

"Which side has the blockage?" she asked, figuring the infection needed addressing first.

Laura gestured to the left and Caprica heard her let out a shuddering breath.

This was going to hurt her, she realized. Probably a great deal.

Determined to help, Caprica took the flange of the device and gently positioned it over Laura's left breast, making sure it was centered.

"Like this?" she asked, looking for some reassurance that she was doing the right thing.

Laura nodded, gritting her teeth in anticipation.

"I just squeeze this handle until the bottle starts to fill?" Caprica presumed.

Laura gave another short nod. She felt for the edge of the sink behind her, taking grip of its edge and holding on to brace herself.

Placing her other hand on the suffering woman's adjacent shoulder, Caprica gave the handle a few cursory pumps.

Laura immediately winced in pain.

"I'm sorry, Laura," Caprica flinched, hesitant to continue. "I don't want to hurt you."

"Just keep going," Laura insisted through clenched teeth.

Caprica nodded and resumed the steady pumps against Laura's heaving chest.

Nothing was happening.

She could feel pressure building up in the empty bottle as she pumped away with no result. Laura's expressions of anguish increased with every squeeze of the handle, her skin growing slick with more sweat.

Between the dampness and her heavy breathing the flange suddenly lost suction and slipped off causing Laura to grunt in agony.

"Damn it," Caprica swore, looking up to see Laura's face flushed bright red. "Breathe, Laura," she urged.

"I'm trying."

"What the hell is going on in there?!" they heard Kara yell from outside of the bathroom.

"Get back to the door!" Caprica shouted at her.

"Frak," Laura cried in utter frustration.

Caprica looked at her, considering if perhaps it would be better just to inform Simon of the issue. It all seemed so torturous.

"Let's try this again," she said, trying to maintain some feigned confidence. "Take some deep breaths," she encouraged as she reached past Laura and took one of the washcloths from where it sat soaking in the sink's warm water.

"I can't," Laura choked out.

After wringing out the cloth Caprica then put it to Laura's neck. First one side then the other. She moved it down to her chest, wiping away the sheen of sweat before blowing a cool stream of air upon the cleansed skin. Moving further downward she wiped the cloth over the affected breast as tenderly as she could. With another soothing puff of air she blew upon it until Laura's skin pebbled with goosebumps.

"Ready?" Caprica asked, tossing the cloth back into the sink water.

Laura cringed, wondering when she would reach her breaking point.

What would it take for her to decide it had been enough and it was time to give up?

"Do it," she confirmed.

Caprica diligently replaced the flange on her breast and resumed pumping with her strong steady hand.

"Ughh!" Laura couldn't help but roar as the pain mounted again."Godsdamn it!"

The room was growing hotter and the frenzied tension was mounting along with the building pressure she was enduring.

"Laura, what if I'm doing more harm than good?" Caprica fretted as she pumped along. "I feel like it's bruising you."

"I'll do it myself then," Laura snarled. "Just get out."

But Caprica didn't want to leave. She was enthralled in the fervor of their endeavor and she wasn't ready to give in. Determined not to leave the struggling mother to suffer alone, she ignored her pain-fueled castigations.

Giving Laura a reprieve from the harrowing maneuver Caprica removed the device.

With the pads of her fingers she began to feel along the side of Laura's breast until she found the throbbing lump.

Reaching behind her, the Six retrieved a washcloth from the warm water once again.

"Here," she said, holding it out for Laura to take.

As Laura took hold of it Caprica guided her hand to rest over the mass.

"Hold the compress there. Put some pressure on it while I pump," she instructed.

With her eyes screwed shut Laura did as the Six said and held the compress to the baneful site.

Caprica resumed pumping. She worked the handle again and again. Still nothing came of it and she began to wonder if it was even possible to remedy on their own. Perhaps the infection was too advanced.

As Laura endured every awful constriction her skin began to bead with sweat again causing the flange to slip off twice more.

"Shit," Caprica swore the second time. "I'm so sorry. I'm trying."

"Frak it. It's not working," Laura relented through tears of pain and aggravation. "You're right. It's making things worse. I have to give this up."

There was nothing left that she could do. She couldn't stand it anymore.

She tried to recall the feeling of her son against her chest, nursing away for the brief time that she had him in her arms. She'd held onto the hope of experiencing that feeling again one day with a vice grip, but it was time to let it go.

She was being held captive, her body picked apart and used. And now she was sick. How could she believe that she would ever get back to her baby at all? Never mind getting to him in any physical shape that would leave her able to feed him again. What was she doing?

"It's time to stop," she wept.

Caprica frowned, tossing the pump to the sink behind them.

"Laura," she said, looking into the woman's defeated red rimmed eyes. "I need you to hold as still as you can," she told her with a renewed intensity.

"Wh-"

Before Laura could get a word out Caprica's lips were on her breast.

Her eyes flew open wide in shock as the Cylon woman's arms came around to brace her at the small of her back.

Laura was stunned, too stunned to stop her as the Six began to suckle away as hard as she could. Her mouth was warm and strong, providing firm suction without the pump's harsh artificial compressions.

Caprica continued, sucking as if she were a starving calf and Laura felt a sharp needling begin to build. She told herself to push her away, to stop whatever was happening, but with a sudden piercing pain she let out a deep guttural growl as the pressure finally gave way at the Six's siphoning, releasing the clogged duct. The whole length of Laura's spine shivered. Both breasts began to prickle with the rush of a full let-down as if a dam had been broken. Her entire body broke out in goosebumps and she couldn't think beyond the feeling of blessed relief.

As warm milk began to flow into her mouth Caprica began to cry in triumph. She continued to suck, determined to clear any lasting obstruction and establish a steady stream. The milk was sweet, tinged with a hint of copper; no doubt a bit of blood from the affected duct, but made sweeter by the contrast of salty sweat coating Laura's skin.

Caprica had never considered that it would be so sweet. She'd never considered it at all of course, never having dreamt that she'd be in such a position.

They'd done it. It worked, but as she drank the feelings of victory quickly diminished, replaced with an unexpected swell of sorrow.

Sorrow over the way she'd been created, of never knowing the feeling of being cradled in a mother's arms and nourished at her breast.

To be born to someone, to be birthed out of love, fed and nurtured with limitless devotion was something she would never know. She felt an emptiness, one that would never be filled no matter how much she drank, but for a moment she imagined that it could be.

If she had any say in it Laura's baby would never feel the same emptiness.

She'd once taken the life of an infant to spare it suffering in the face of doom. She'd thought it the more merciful action at the time. But she'd changed, in the name of God she'd changed and she swore to herself that now she would protect such innocence at all costs no matter what.

She continued on, her eyes closed, blocking out all other sensations and sounds until suddenly she felt Laura's quivering palm gently cup her cheek.

She stopped at that point, swallowing down one last gulp of liquid.

Caprica let Laura's breast gently slip from her mouth. Hovering there, her lips brushed against the taught peek, soothing the sore sensitive flesh with the warmth of her breath.

When Laura dropped her hand away Caprica stood, straightening her posture to face her again.

The two locked eyes staring at one another in silent disbelief. Caprica's face began to burn as the reality of what she'd done set in.

They looked at each other for what felt like an eternity neither saying a word

"Thank you," Laura finally uttered, her words a quavering whisper.

As Caprica opened her mouth to reply, a sudden pounding at the bathroom door made each of them jump out of their skin.

"What the frak is going on!?" Kara shouted on the other side. "Are you okay, Ma'am!?"

With her eyes still on the Six Laura nodded.

"I am now," she said, her volume inaudible to the worried young woman who continued to pound her fist at the door.

"Can you finish up on your own?" Caprica asked.

"Yes," she replied.

With a nod, the Six reached for the door handle, pulling it open to reveal an agitated Kara looking as if she was just moments from kicking the door down.

"What's taking so long?" Kara complained. "Ma'am are you alright?"

"Yes, Kara," Laura confirmed, holding her hospital gown closed with both fists. "I'm almost done."

"Take your time, Laura," Caprica told her, exiting and shutting the door behind herself.

Laura was still in a state of shock over what had just occurred, but she knew that she had to hurry and take advantage of the strange blessing.

Letting her hospital gown fall open again, she reached for the pump and rinsed it under the sink faucet. Putting the device back to her breast she started to work the handle, her hands now far steadier than they had been before. As she heard the familiar sound of milk finally streaming into the bottle she began to weep. Though her breast still ached, the horrid throbbing and stabbing pains were gone and there was a relief like no other as she pumped until she felt empty.

Removing the flange Laura held the full warm bottle up to the light to see the milk streaked with a tint of pink. Blood, she presumed. Something Meri's notes had said would be expected after the release of a compressed duct.

She felt worlds better and for now she had to trust that the issue was resolved.

After pouring the bottle down the drain Laura attended to her right breast emptying it as much as possible.

Though she didn't expect the milk from the right side to show any signs of blood she checked it anyway, just to make sure. Finding it clear of any tint Laura removed the flange with a heavy sigh.

"Gods, please keep his little belly full," she prayed as she began to pour the milk into the sink.

As it ran down into the drain Laura's eyes filled to the brim and spilled down her cheeks.

"Laura?" Caprica called before opening the bathroom door.

"I'm finished," she answered, sniffing back her tears as she poured the last of the milk out.

"Are you okay?" the Six enquired, dismayed to find her crying again.

"Yes. I just need to clean up," Laura replied as she began to disconnect the pump's pieces and run them under the hot water.

"You got rid of it all," Caprica observed. "I thought maybe you'd want me to take some with me. I could have passed it to someone you trust to get it to him."

"I can't," Laura answered, her voice hoarse and raspy from their arduous endeavor. "Whatever drugs and medication they gave me…it wouldn't be safe for him," she explained as she put the pump back together.

"I didn't realize," Caprica frowned. "Are you feeling better?"

"Much," Laura replied, unable to help her cheeks from blushing bright pink. "And I- I just want-"

"It's alright, Laura," Caprica stopped her, sensing her unease. "We don't have to-" she momentarily trailed off. "I only wanted to help."

Laura nodded. She didn't know what to say and with the door opened she didn't want Kara to hear anything more.

What had happened between them would never be known by another soul.

"The device," Caprica said, clearing her throat of emotion, "you'll need it again soon or you'll end up in the same state. Should I leave it here or take it?"

"Take it. I can't be caught with it and if I get put in a detention cell I won't have a way to hide it anyway. I can keep up with manual hand expressions now that the blockage is gone and the engorgement is relieved. Unless they have plans to render me unconscious again?"

"I wish I could say I knew," Caprica admitted. "I'll take it and I'll try to return with it as often as I can."

"I don't want you drawing suspicion."

"I'll do my best not to."

"Are you almost done in here, Ma'am?" Kara interjected, coming up behind the Six.

"Yes. Did you need the restroom?"

"No. I'm just checking in," Kara answered, still eyeing the Six in distrust.

"I do need to finish speaking with you, Laura," Caprica added. "Privately."

"What?" Kara scowled. "No way."

"Laura, I came here to see you for a reason," Caprica appealed, "and as glad as I am that I've been able to help you, that wasn't it."

Laura's eyes moved between the insistent Six and the suspicious young woman beside her.

"Give us a moment, Kara," Laura requested.

"Where the hell am I supposed to go?" Starbuck, angrily griped.

"Just keep listening by the door," the Six instructed.

"Are you kidding me?" Kara scoffed in disbelief.

"Please, Kara?" Laura asked again, doing her best to keep her patience.

She was well aware of how strange the entire situation appeared to be. She couldn't blame Kara for being worried.

"Whatever," Starbuck finally relented with a huff. "If that's what you want."

"I'll be fine," Laura assured her.

With another sharp glare to the Six, Kara turned and left.

Slipping back inside of the bathroom, Caprica closed the door.

"Laura, I need to tell you exactly why you're here," she immediately began.

They'd been lucky so far, but it was only a matter of time before someone came into the hospital room. She had to tell her everything and quickly.

"I know why I'm here," Laura stoically returned.

"They've told you."

"They didn't have to. I know what was done to me, what was taken. I can only presume what they want it for."

"I'm sorry," Caprica said, shaking her head in shame. "I wanted to tell you sooner. I've been trying."

Laura bit at the inside of her cheek. If the Six wanted to inform her then what had stopped her from doing so?

"It's done."

"If I could have prevented it-"

"It's done," Laura repeated more forcefully.

She didn't want the Cylon woman's apology. She hadn't stopped it and that's all there was to be said about it. The reason why made no difference to her.

"There's something else I need to tell you," Caprica went on. "An unfortunate potential consequence of the exposure to the hormone injections they gave you."

"I'm aware of the cancer risk," Laura acknowledged, before the Six could finish . "We had procedures like this on the Colonies; elective, done by choice to conceive wanted children. I've been informed of the risk factors. There isn't a damn thing to be done about it now. Especially while I'm stuck here."

"I wish-"

"I don't really want to hear what it is you wish," Laura bit. She was thankful to the Six for the help that she'd given, but hearing her regrets was just a waste of time. "It's over. What I want to know is why Kara Thrace is here. What's she got to do with any of this?"

Caprica swallowed and nodded. She'd failed at warning Laura. The least she could do was prepare her for what was to come next.

"With all you've been through, your health, your age and the fact that they believe you lost your baby at birth, they don't trust that your body could withstand what they have planned. You have the DNA they want, Laura, but Capt. Thrace has a young healthy womb," she said, as Laura's eyes widened in horror. "They intend to implant any embryos made from your ovum in Kara to gestate."

"Good Gods," Laura rasped, her blood running cold at the Six's admission.

It was worse than she'd even imagined.

"Does she have any idea?" Caprica asked, glancing toward the bathroom door.

Laura shook her head at a loss, unable to speak for a moment.

"I- I don't think so."

"She's been granted a short reprieve," Caprica continued. "She needs a minor procedure first. They froze the embryos for now."

Laura flinched at the Six's words.

"So they succeeded? In creating the embryos?"

She wanted to vomit at the thought. Her head was swimming. What would happen to them? What would be done with them? The likelihood of never again being with her son was soul-crushing enough. Even the notion that she could soon have other children who she would never even see had her feeling faint.

"I'm only assuming," Caprica clarified, watching Laura go pale. "Do you need to sit?"

"No," Laura insisted, though she knew she probably should. "Go on."

"I haven't heard officially," Caprica continued, keeping a cautious eye on Laura's balance. "But I know that they planned to freeze both embryos and unfertilized ovum."

"So they could make even more?"

"If they wanted to in the future, they would have what they needed to try."

Laura's eye's burned with hot tears as the reality of it all set in.

"Are these embryos…Cylon?" she strained to speak, her throat dry and tight.

"No," Caprica replied. "Not that I'm aware of. I mean…not in the way I think you mean."

Laura stared at her, unable to deny that she understood the implication.

"I see."

"They are being created using human sperm, if that's what you're asking. I suppose they might try to conceive a true hybrid with one of your ova eventually. But this time the baby they want to create would be no more Cylon than you are," Caprica stated, causing Laura's eyes to widen in horror at the claim. "The plan was to recreate a similar circumstance to your son's conception."

"This isn't anything like my son's conception," Laura sneered. "Not even close."

"Of course not. I'm sorry. That isn't what I meant. They want a child as close to him genetically as they can get."

"Lords," Laura sighed, pinching at tension at the bridge of her nose.

"He seems to be doing well," Caprica offered with a small smile, "by the grace of God. At least that's good news."

"What?" Laura squinted, unsure of what the Six meant.

"Your little boy," Caprica smiled. "I've tried to observe from afar. I don't want to draw too much attention to him, but I've sent some supplies to the foster home. Blankets and things he might need. I'm careful. Your temple priests bring it."

Laura's brow arched at the thought of the Six freely seeing her son as she pleased.

"Why?"

"Why?" Caprica echoed, her smile fading in the face of Laura's adverse reaction.

"Yes, why?"

Caprica frowned, confused as to why Laura's anger was suddenly directed at her.

"Because he's innocent. He's an angel. He doesn't deserve to be apart from his mother and I-"

"You stay away from him," Laura demanded.

Caprica's lips parted and her eyes prickled with the threat of tears.

She'd only tried to look out for the child. How could Laura not yet trust her after all she'd done?

"Of course," she agreed with a nod, not wanting to upset Laura further.

Laura looked away from the Six's dejected expression, avoiding the strange feelings of remorse she knew it would incite within her.

"If they want a baby with similar genetic makeup to my son's then there must be a Colonial man they're stealing from as well. Who is it?"

"I don't know that, but I should tell Capt. Thrace of her part in this. I didn't get the chance to warn you. I need to warn her."

"No," Laura blurted, reaching out and grasping Caprica's wrist. "Don't tell her. Not yet. She's too unpredictable. She'll go crazy in here."

She could only imagine Starbuck's reaction.

"I have to tell her," the Six maintained, shaking her head. "We can't let her be blindsided by-"

"Let me," Laura insisted. "I'll do it. At the right time, in the right way. I'll make sure she knows…I just need to be careful."

Kara was a smart, talented and strong young woman, but from what Laura had observed over the time she'd known her, the impulse control she exhibited was abysmal. She often lacked maturity and demonstrated an inability to regulate her emotions. Now it seemed as though her time in detention had made things worse, leaving her concerningly unstable.

"The surveillance in our room…" Laura thought aloud.

"I have to turn it back on when I leave," Caprica nodded. "The video feed goes to the monitors at the medic station, but anyone within the network could potentially link into it from another location and see the footage. I guess I can't be sure that isn't already being done, or that they haven't at some point added an audio feed to your room. But, there's no cameras in the restrooms. Just take her in here like we're talking now."

"I can't. I can't trust she wont have some kind of an outburst. I don't know what's been done to her while she's been imprisoned, but something isn't right. Can you find out if there's an audio feed?"

"Not for certain…But…" Caprica hesitated, considering what she was about to say. "I might be able to help you with that."

Laura looked puzzled.

"How? If you keep coming back here to turn the feed off, won't they grow suspicious?"

"Yes. They will. I can't risk doing it over and over, but I do know that when the back-up generators kick on during an outage the surveillance system takes exactly twelve minutes to fully reboot."

Laura looked at the Six for a long pause, desperately trying to grasp what it was between them that had fostered this unthinkable connection. Was it even real?

"When?" she asked.

"You'll know when you're sitting in the dark," the Six shrugged.

Laura nodded and looked down at the floor, suddenly overcome with a wave of exhaustion.

She felt compelled to thank the Cylon woman again. She wanted to express something, something she felt but couldn't explain. She even felt moved to apologize for hurting her, to explain it wasn't her she didn't trust, but that she didn't trust the others not to find them out. A simple 'thank you' and an 'I'm sorry' just didn't seem right and she couldn't say what she didn't have the words for. It was all so strange.

"Caprica?"

"Yes?"

"I don't like this shit!" Kara shouted, as the door jerked open.

"Gods, Kara, you scared the frak out of me again!" Laura gasped, her hand on her chest over her pounding heart.

"I don't want this damn door closed anymore," Kara ranted. "This secretive bullshit going on between you two is freaking me out!"

"We're done," Laura assured her. As much as she'd felt driven to say something more to the Six now she just wanted out of the cramped little room. "Just calm down, Kara."

"I hope you're able to get some rest, Laura," Caprica said as she leaned over to take the pump and returned it to her lab coat. "Excuse me," she softly muttered, making her way to the door and slipping back out into the hallway without another word.

NEW CAPRICAN ORBIT

ASTEROID BELT

"You falling asleep up there, Racetrack?" the ECO called out breaking a long silence.

"No, but I'm about to," Racetrack said with a snort, keeping her vigilant eyes locked on the expanse before them.

"Not much longer," her crewmate reassured.

She nodded and sighed, stretching in her seat as much as the cockpit would allow. Unless things changed she would never see the orbit of New Caprica ever again, or the system it was in. The Fleet was supposedly leaving in a few days and she wasn't on schedule for any of the last Raptor crews coming out. The shift was dragging and she couldn't tell if it was because she just wanted it to be over, or because she felt so uneasy about leaving for good.

"You know, I'm not sure how I feel about the Fleet moving on, but I sure as hell won't miss these long shifts," she mused.

"So say we all," the ECO returned.

Racetrack bit at her lip, suddenly feeling guilty over her comment. Did she want it to be done?

"Not all," she added, after a beat. "A good amount of folks are pretty pissed about the Admiral's call."

"I'd say just as many are ready to move on," the ECO countered.

Racetrack nodded, her eyes still scanning their surroundings and the DRADIS before her.

"There's a lot of people down there," she posed, reminding herself as much as the man behind her.

"Lots of people in the Fleet too," he returned, but something about his eagerness rubbed her the wrong way.

"Some of which have family and loved ones on New Caprica," she challenged.

"Look, we all have someone we care about down there," he considered. "That's not really the point."

"I think there's an argument to be made that it is the damn point," Racetrack frowned, surprised to find herself getting as irritated as she was.

"And do you think all those people down there want us to waste away sitting around waiting for them?"

"I think most of them want to be rescued."

"At what cost? Racetrack, what would our chances be of successfully fighting off the Cylons long enough to get that many people back on ships and back into the Fleet?"

Racetrack shook her head in frustration. Not at her ECO, but that there was no good answer. Just two awful options to choose from. That's how life had been since the worlds ended; constantly having to choose the least destructive path.

"I've studied the renderings. Not much of a chance at all," she admitted.

"The Admiral sees that," the ECO said with a nod of confidence. "He knows the longer we wait the more resources we waste and the more time we give up."

"Time," Racetrack echoed under her breath, almost unaware she'd said it out loud.

"We're all trying to find a place to live out the rest of our lives," he continued, his tone matter of fact. "How much of that should we give up waiting on something that has almost no chance of happening?"

Racetrack licked at her lips. She liked the man enough, but she missed her old operator. So much of the crew was missing. For so long she'd continued to believe that they would be back one day. Admittedly it had kept her from getting to know some of the nuggets who had made Officer over the last year and those who had transferred over from Pegasus. She'd just kept telling herself that her friends would return. Chief would be back on the deck, Starbuck would resume CAG, everything would go back to normal. But now that would never happen.

"Some say we can't sustain the population anyways," she said after a while. "They say that we hardly had the numbers to keep the human race going before and now…"

She'd heard Athena making her case to anyone who would listen since the announcement was made. Toaster or not, she made sense.

"And that sucks, I guess, but we're alive now. We deserve a place to live out the rest of our days whether or not any future generations get to do the same."

She supposed he had a point. It just sounded wrong. Sounded selfish. She'd been trained never to leave a man behind. How could she leave thousands?

"I dunno," she muttered.

"Another hour to go. Look alive. Last team almost got clipped by a couple of raiders. I'm not going down on my last shift out here."

"I got it," Racetrack said with a nod.

NEW CAPRICAN TENT CITY

DWELLING OF LAURA ROSLIN

Ellen blinked her bleary eyes as she awoke. For a fraction of a second she was confused as her surroundings came into focus, but the recollection of where she was quickly set in. With a yawn and a stretch she rolled over on her side. Squinting over at the tent flap she tried to guess what time it was by the amount of light coming through, but it was closed too tightly to tell.

Saul had to be worried. He would no doubt ask where the hell she'd been once she got back. He'd probably already told Sam she hadn't come home. With her palms to her cheeks she let out a long groan. Admitting that she'd taken an unplanned nap on Laura Roslin's bed was going to sound bizarre. Telling them about the rogue Six she'd encountered was going to sound downright crazy. She wasn't looking forward to any of it.

Shifting to her other side, she told herself she'd get up soon. She was just too comfortable to make the move.

Laura's pillow smelled of lavender and tea leaves; herbs meant to calm the nerves. Herbs that Ellen knew from recent experience didn't do a damn thing.

It did smell nice though, she thought, nuzzling into the softness of the old worn bedsheets. As odd as it was being in someone's home uninvited and alone, Ellen felt strangely at ease.

In her own tent her lies were suffocating, her guilt was heavy on her shoulders and there was a constant state of dread that Saul would either be taken or find out what she'd been doing to try to prevent it. In the clinic tent she'd been so afraid, so angry at herself for the state of her health. She was embarrassed and defensive over Cottle's discovery and his persistent inquiries. The sounds of the suffering of others all around her and the bright clinic lights had all made it difficult to get any decent rest.

In Laura's tent she felt a momentary reprieve, a break from the daunting chaos. She was relaxed for the first time in weeks.

Running her fingers along the familiar quilt Ellen recalled the day Laura had gone into labor. Hours before they'd moved to the tunnels she'd come over to help, finding Laura on her knees beside the bed enduring the steadily increasing contractions. Ellen had taken every pillow and blanket she could find, including the bed quilt and made Laura a little nest to kneel on. Though she wasn't sure it had done much to help, she remembered being so glad to do anything she could to ease Laura's struggle. Despite all of the sorrow that came after, Ellen still felt a sense of joy thinking back to the event. She still felt so privileged to have been there.

Fresh tears sprang to her eyes as she thought of the miraculous night. Her heart clenched in her chest at the memory of witnessing little Will's birth.

If the Cylon woman was to be believed Laura was in pain again, this time all alone. They'd succeeded in the ovum harvest and now she was sick from the one thing she'd been able to provide her son since his arrival. Ellen winced at the thought of how defeated Laura had to feel. She just prayed the Six really had meant to help her.

Sniffing back her tears and swallowing down the lump in her throat Ellen looked around the tent taking note of everything that had been displaced while she and the Six searched for Laura's pump. With a grunt and a groan she finally forced herself to get up.

It didn't take long to tidy the kitchen and straighten the cupboard.

Taking another look around the tent, she let out a huff noticing how disheveled the bed looked from her stay. Though there was no indication that Laura would be back anytime soon she didn't feel right leaving it so rumpled.

Ellen quickly smoothed out the quilt and fluffed the pillow with prayer that Laura might be back one day soon to make it matter. With nothing left to delay her exit she decided it was time to return home. Turning from the foot of the bed she let out an abrupt yelp when she walked right into the corner of Laura's desk.

Ellen hissed, flopping down in the desk chair to rub at her knee. She cursed Laura for squeezing the damn desk into such a tiny space and she cursed herself for how boney and thin she'd become. Everything hurt when there was nothing but skin on bone. The last thing she needed was another damn bruise.

Her collision with the desk had caused its drawer to slide open a bit and she shoved it closed in frustration causing it to bounce back open even further.

Angry and annoyed, Ellen almost went to slam it shut again, but something caught her eye.

Inside the drawer were several stacks of paper tied with twine and what looked like a few leather-bound notebooks.

Ellen bit at her lip as she looked down at them.

"You slept her in her bed and now you're going through her personal papers," she muttered to herself as she reached for one of the books and pulled it out.

Placing it on the desk, Ellen shook her head. It's probably just school notes. Put it back and go home, she told herself even as she opened it and began to flip through.

It was nearly full, line after line all written in Laura's precise overly practiced handwriting and each page dated at the top.

Right away Ellen could tell that it wasn't a school planner or student attendance log. It was a journal. Laura's personal diary.

She told herself to stop with each page she turned.

Scanning the lines of text, she bit at her tongue harder and harder as if the pain might jar her out of it.

Suddenly she stopped, but only because her eyes found something worth pausing for.

"Isis stayed the night again," Ellen read. The entry was dated just a few weeks after Laura moved down to the surface of New Caprica. "Poor Maya has been so exhausted. It won't be easy to care for an infant down here, but I can't help but be thankful for how close by they are to me," she continued to read on, as her teeth finally drew blood from her tongue. "While she was here Isis smiled at me for the first time and Lords help me, I burst into tears. I cried and held her and soon she was crying too. I know I probably just scared her, but I can't deny the feeling that she sensed my heart; the overflowing gratitude and all of the guilt. It felt as if we were crying together."

Ellen licked her lips tasting the copper as she fanned through the pages again, skimming toward the latest entries.

"Lately in my dreams I find myself searching for both of them," she read on the last page that Laura had written. "I don't know who has taken them or where they've gone, but I hear each of them distinctly crying and I'm pulled in two directions. I shudder to recall it in my waking hours and to admit that more than once I've turned toward Hera instead of in the direction of my son. Even now, fully conscious and aware, the thought of being faced with such a harrowing choice leaves me trembling as I write this."

Ellen slammed the book shut at sight of the girl's name.

She gulped and wiped at the tears she hadn't noticed had started to roll down her cheeks as she read.

Her stomach dropped as the sound of the curfew alarm rang out.

She needed to get back home.

Slipping the journal into her bag, Ellen stood from the chair, closed the desk drawer and left Laura's tent.

NEW CAPRICAN TENT CITY

FORMER DWELLING OF TUCKER & NORA CLELLAN

Duck and Nora's tent was dark as Galen stepped inside.

He fumbled around for a while, struggling to find the pull string for the bulb that hung from the pitch beam.

Finally locating it he gave it a tug, immediately washing the space in a dull glow.

Galen paused and gulped as he looked around the empty tent; a home that had been built by love and the desire for a new start.

The table where the couple had eaten their meals, the bed where they'd held each other, all amounted to nothing now. Their belongings would be picked through by neighbors who needed them. What was left would be used for scrap. The tent would soon be taken over by someone else and the echoes of Duck and Nora's hopes and dreams would fade away forever.

Noticing something sitting atop their mattress, Galen made his way to the couple's empty bed.

He looked down, finding the framed photo Duck had left behind.

Galen picked it up, letting out a heavy sigh. He was pretty sure it was a photo from their wedding day. Whatever day it was, they looked happy. Blissfully so.

If he still had the strength of faith that he'd been raised with he would be able to take solace in the belief that they were together again, as happy as they'd ever been. At least Duck had believed. At least he'd died with that comfort.

Galen missed the blind faith he'd once held that all things happened through the will of the gods, that everyone crossed the river when their time came to be reunited on the shore with those they loved who had already moved on to Elysium. Living with that unquestioning certainty had been so much easier. Doubt was a heavy burden to carry.

If he couldn't be sure that Duck had found Nora he had least had to believe that his sacrifice had been worth it. The Cylons were angry and a clear message had been sent to all Colonial traitors and collaborators.

The bombing had done what Tigh intended and it had given Duck an excuse to do what he felt he needed.

Galen slipped the frame into his jacket. If they ever made it back to Galactica he'd have their photo to put on the wall of remembrance.

With a sigh he turned from the bed and walked over to the rug.

Bending over he tugged it away to reveal the hatchway. He wondered who in the resistance would be willing to take over a tent with ground access. They'd need to find someone trustworthy and willing to be interrupted at all hours. Duck and Norah had been so great about it.

With the hatch opened Galen descended the ladder into the mining tunnels and began his trek to the bunker beneath the Tigh's tent.

At the halfway point Galen began to wish that he'd just started out at the Tigh's to begin with. He'd decided not to bother them for access, especially with Ellen not feeling well. He didn't want to disturb her rest.

Galen shook his head as he walked.

There was a good possibility that the Colonel would be arrested in response to the police academy bombing. He had to wonder what it would do to Ellen if he was. Would she even be able to handle it?

Sam seemed pretty damn worried about her.

Ellen Tigh was a strong woman, but New Caprica was deadly.

Some were dying by bullets and bombs. Others were being slowly suffocated by circumstance, getting the life squeezed out of them little by little each day.

Finally arriving in the bunker Galen went about lighting the extra lamp on the Colonel's desk.

Footsteps rattled the floorboards over the access hatch. For a moment Galen looked up, trying to listen for the sound of the Colonel's cane to tell whether it was him or Ellen walking around, but soon the sounds stopped.

Making his way to the com station Galen made a mental note to have Cally bring Nicky over to visit them. There were so few things left to smile about, but he knew his son brought the couple a sense of joy.

Settling down in his seat with a grunt, he flipped on the com station.

Leaning back Galen sighed and reached into his coat to take out the rolled up documents.

Uncurling the pages he read the heading again for about the tenth time since he'd picked them up at the last drop. Jamming Frequencies, it read at the top in thick black text.

He was sure they had to have already changed, but after the day he had he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep anyway. He had to try.

Slipping on the headset, he got to work.

With one hand rubbing at his beard Galen typed in the first channel. The typical buzzing and humming droned in his ears before the abrupt screech of the signal jam took over causing him to flinch.

Removing the headset he typed in the next channel.

Cautiously he returned the set to his ears only to find the same clamorous noise blaring through.

With a huff, he cracked his neck from side to side, wondering how long he would last. He had a lot to get through and he was already feeling the beginnings of a headache. He should have stayed with Cally after everything that had gone on.

Telling himself he would only stay a while longer, Galen adjusted the headset and began to type in another channel.

Again the all too familiar buzz came through. He sat waiting with his fingers to the headphones ready to pull them off as soon as the dreaded shrillness assaulted his eardrums. After a few seconds the sound didn't come.

Galen sat forward in his seat, still anticipating the squealing screak to cut in at any moment. Instead a string of rapid beeps began to ring out, so loud and unexpected that he nearly leapt out of his seat.

It was connecting.

"It's working…It's working…holy frak."

His heart began to race in time with the beeping signal and soon confirmation of connection was made.

A text box popped up on the screen before him.

"CHANNEL OPEN…RECEIVING INCOMING PACKET."

"It worked," he said again, licking at his lips, his mouth suddenly parched from the rush of adrenaline.

The com station blinked again. A new message displayed on the screen.

"Will make contact," Tyrol read aloud. "This frequency every twelve hours. Prepare sit-rep for command authority. Have hope. We're coming for you," he finished in near disbelief.

"Colonel! Colonel!" he began shouting out, shooting up from his chair and stumbling backward.

Catching his balance he ran to the access ladder, climbed the steps and banged on the hatch to the Tigh's tent.

"Colonel!" he continued to call out. "It's Tyrol!" he announced himself, knowing the sounds of his fists against their floor were bound to be alarming.

He persisted, his fist just about to pound the hatch again when it was wrenched open to reveal the furious man looking down at him.

"What in the frak are you thinking!? Ya horse's ass!" Tigh berated, his face red with veins visible that Tyrol knew only appeared when he was enraged.

"Who the hell is it!?" Ellen's voice came from elsewhere in the tent.

Tyrol cringed realizing just how badly he must have frightened her.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Elle, I'm sorry!" he quickly shouted, apologetic but beyond eager to explain himself.

"Frak, Galen," Ellen said, appearing over her husband's shoulder and scowling down at him in her night robe, "you scared me half to death!"

"Shit. I'm sorry," he said again, feeling like a teenager who had just woken up his parents by playing his stereo too loud.

"What's wrong with you?" Tigh continued to lambast. "You know she's got a heart condition!"

"Shit," Tyrol swore, wincing at the thought that he could have actually caused Ellen some harm. "Frak me. I know. I know, I said I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. I'm an idiot, okay? But listen!"

"What!?" the angry couple snapped in unison.

"We've got contact. They're coming for us, Colonel."

---

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