Survival Instinct
William Adama and Laura Roslin Fanfiction

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Twenty-Six Hundred by ellymelly

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Author Notes:
"The curiosity of unaccounted time is little more than a deep, creeping silence awaiting inevitable disturbance..."

or basically; it's a really long wait until bsg comes back, so let us indulge in spoiler driven fanfic

It is recommended, (but not essential) that you read, A Meeting with the President before proceeding.
New Caprica
26:00
Μάης (Mais) - month five of occupation



The moist night air hung just above the marshes - swirling, mingling with the grassy tuffs that knit the ground together. Miles beyond lapped a warm sea - when Laura closed her eyes she could hear its gentle motion above the insects as she sat, perched on a gentle hill at the edge of the colonized landscape. Beyond was the inhospitable south, only recently defrosted - humming with prehistoric life.

Eerie flatness stretched out under the soft glow of six faint moons, one rising, three setting and two orbiting each other overhead. Unlike the moons of Caprica these were perfectly spherical, their pale faces unblemished by impacts. Laura was waiting for the arrival of their seventh brother, the largest moon of Caprica - Tartarus. This moon burned a violent red - its interior still fiery from birth. Exterior volcanoes spewed forth black smoke and molten rock which glowed in the surface shadows. They had become known as "Fire Rivers" and, with the slow orbit, awaiting its arrival had become quite an event. Soon this outcast would peak above the mist and the pale blue of the evening turn a dusty orange – dripping into the dark water-lands and disappearing from sight.

He leant in further still, the darkness of the room claustrophobic around her. In this closeness Laura could feel his sanity fracturing, "You cannot help me," whispered Baltar so that only she could hear - the unseen form of Six draping around his neck, "no-one can."

The passing glimpses of memory renewed the icy shivers that had entwined themselves down her back. They were too late, it had always been too late - from the moment Baltar had laid eyes upon the blonde beauty and the world had ended.

Without warning the fabric of the world around her shifted, the soft hues of winter bleeding into burnt orange as Tartarus appeared on the horizon. The shadows deepened in the new light - there were things out there not of this world and they hid from sight but always creeping closer, she could feel them in the ground and in the fire of the jewel around her neck.

"You shouldn't be out here, it's not safe after dark."

"It's never safe." Laura responded to the melodiously rough voice on the tree line, its owner not yet crossing into the openness of the night, "It never was."

"It will be again." Adama left the tortured growth to join Laura under the dusk-like sight of Tartarus. "The President instructed me not to see you again."

"I know." she murmured quietly, eyes fixed on the burning orb as the fabric of his coat brushed against her.

"Yet here we are." Laura smiled, knowing his eyes were upon her. "Was he serious?"

"I believe so. He's a troubled man Bill."

"That's what keeps me up through the nights." Bill paused, unsure of how far to go, not certain how much she would divulge. "Is there any hope?"

Laura said nothing at first, the trickles of fire blazing across the night enthralling her. "ekei panta elpida. There is always hope."

"Come on," said Adama placing his hand on her shoulder, "let me take you back to your tent. His spies won't be out on a night like tonight."

She nodded, gripping his other hand which had come down for the taking - Bill pulling her to her feet.

Together they walked the few miles back to settlement, Bill covering her protectively as a stray winter wind found its way back from the departing season.

"Here." he said, holding open the entrance as they arrived at the tent. She was thankful that she was not minding the child this week.

Laura went in first, disappearing beneath the canvas - re-emerging to the remains of the fire still glowing hot after hours of neglect. She went to attend to it and within a few minutes the room was aglow with the familiar wavering light that Bill had grown to crave.

"Admiral, we are not yet strong enough to mount any kind of resistance against Baltar's government." he watched as she came to rest in the chair opposite, "People are too busy struggling with every day existence to spend energy on politics."

"I heard the Chief has been making headway."

"The fruits of that remain to be seen - but if he can hold a successful leadership over the workers then he is the key. His support will effectively deliver the support of the majority."

"Let me talk to him. I haven't yet congratulated him on his wife's pregnancy - Baltar won't suspect."

They were a pair of few words, their time composed of moments spent in silent company. His expression had deepened, the lines that once scarred his face now storing within them memories of passed time - left behind as a map for all to read - pieces of his character surfacing, interlacing and disappearing once again beneath secretive skin. She had changed also, transformed subtly as if the very essence of New Caprica itself were absorbing into her - becoming her. She was no longer a president for the people, but a president of the people.

Tension literally hung from the air - neither wanting to break it - both enjoying the danger it promised.

Unexpectedly the tent tried to free itself from the ground, the pegs straining against the wind.

"What was that?" said Adama as he rose from the chair.

"There's another storm coming." breathed Laura calmly.

"But there was barely a cloud when I flew overhead earlier."

"These come from the South, as if out of nowhere. If you intend to spend the night on Galactica you should leave now. They tend to get dangerous." she added.

Adama unzipped the tent enough to peer out. Dark storms clouds had blocked out almost all light, their swirling madness commanding the land around. "I think it's too late for that."

She agreed, securing the entrance. You'll have to stay here until it passes - they don't last more than a few hours. He nodded and the pair returned to the fire.

Laura turned, weaving her way to the exit. "Ms. Roslin -" she stopped, hearing Baltar rise from the desk. "Six weeks from now you are to come back with a proper progress report, do you understand?"

She felt the tiniest flicker of hope emerge from the darkness around, "I understand -" she stopped briefly before continuing, "I understand perfectly."


*~*


A companion piece to this chapter is soon to be posted. Two hours until Tomorrow slips inbetween this chapter and the next.
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