No Phoenix for Roslin

Chapter 18

[Galactica's CIC]

The silence in CIC was oppressive. Even though the crew didn't know the President had abdicated, or that she was present in the shuttle they were monitoring so closely, most of them reacted instinctively to the unprecedented tension that radiated from their CO and the cautious way their XO moved around him, guarding him as if he might come apart at the seams any minute.

Bill's eyes were glued to the monitor that showed Laura's progress. The detonator in his hand was a poisonous snake he wished to kill but couldn't trample just yet.

"Give me the damn thing," Tigh demanded brusquely.

"No." Without pulling his eyes away from the screen, Bill moved his hand out of Saul's reach. There was no way he would delegate this, could delegate this, not even to his best friend. He turned his head and looked at Tigh. "No," he repeated, shaking his head. But thank you for offering. Tigh nodded silently.

"The shuttle has entered the Cylon vessel," Gaeta warned. Bill's eyes snapped back to the monitor.

"Start the clock, Mister Gaeta," Adama commanded.

"Clock is started," Gaeta confirmed. "Five minutes and counting down."

Five minutes. Her window of opportunity, five minutes until he would have to intervene.

Saul's stare made Adama aware that his right hand had moved up to cover his heart in a grave gesture of respect and farewell. He didn't remove his hand, despite Tigh's look. Bill's need to salute Laura's bravery outweighed Tigh's misgivings.

Saul looked at him intently and after a short moment of hesitation he straightened his back, coming to full attention, solemnly copying Bill's gesture.

Bill briefly closed his eyes. Thank you.

The CIC crew glanced uneasily at each other, unnerved by their senior officers' confounding grimness. Bill saw it, but didn't care.

"Two minutes," Gaeta reported.

The bleep on DRADIS that designated the Cylon Production Unit was extremely uninformative, but Bill kept staring at it anyway, as it was the only indication that the mission was not yet complete and that Laura Roslin was still alive.

&&&

[Cylon shuttle]

"Number Thirteen..." the Godfrey woman tasted it on her lips while she studied Laura.

"Pardon me?"

"Your number." The Cylon came closer and studied Laura unabashedly, her finger tracing Laura's jaw line. "We have great hopes for your model."

Laura swallowed. "Really?" she asked, more to keep the Cylon occupied than something else. Her hand moved slowly towards the ring.

"Ruthless, goal oriented, smart, devious." Shelley nodded in appreciation. "Leoben expects much of you."

Laura's eyes widened. Meeting Leoben after she had airlocked him was something she hoped to avoid.

She wondered what time it was. She thought she might have felt the shuttle dock, but she wasn't sure.

&&&

[Galactica's CIC]

"One minute," Gaeta called out.

Adama slowly lowered his right hand and with an audible intake of breath moved it towards the black box. He had hoped it would not come to this, but now that the time had arrived to use the device, he was grateful that he had listened to her. Not having the option to intervene would have been even worse.

He looked down at the detonator in his hand, trying to draw comfort from the fact that he was following her explicit wishes, but his thoughts lingered on the way the explosives were wrapped around her abdomen, and on the satin softness of her skin.

Twenty-five ...

Images of exactly how she would be ripped apart overran his mind. He had seen too much combat to have illusions about the brutality of the destruction he was about to execute.

twenty-four ...

The world narrowed to the button under his fingers, and he continued counting down the seconds in his head, preparing himself to rip apart the woman he loved.

Twenty-three...

Starbuck's voice rang loudly in CIC. "The Cylon Production Unit is destroyed!"

Adama's head snapped up towards the DRADIS screen, looking for confirmation. The crew roared and clapped each other on the back, but Adama blinked and swallowed, staring at the screen.

He hadn't pressed the button.

She did it. Of course she did it.

An odd flash of pride flared up, only to die abruptly as the awareness set in that Laura was gone now, blasted to pieces, irretrievably scattered in the vacuum of space.

He realized that up until that moment the success or failure of the mission had occupied at least a part of his mind but, now that the goal was accomplished, there was no longer a barrier to protect him from facing the reality that Laura Roslin was no longer there, and was not going to come back.

Ever.

"Bring Starbuck back," Bill heard Saul take over and call the order to Dee, but Bill's mind had disconnected from the reality of running the ship and little else registered but the fact that she was gone.

He swayed and gripped the console for balance when a sharp pain in his chest stopped him from breathing. He dropped the detonator on the tactical console and stood there, staring at the empty screen, watching, hoping against hope for the bleep to reappear, waiting for the pain to disappear.

After a very long moment, he closed his eyes and slumped, suddenly very tired.

The link was broken. The bond he had almost physically felt emanating from his solar plexus to this woman, had imploded in his chest. It was replaced by a cold chasm that slowly spread, until it reached the far ends of his being.

He had lost her. It was over.