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All their preparation, all their planning, and now it's finally happening.

Adama's on his way.  Galactica is coming back. 

Oh, gods.  Bill.

It's been hard, so hard to hold on to hope for so long, but she'd never allowed herself to lose faith.  Not in this.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Isis is laughing; Maya murmurs soothing things and plays with her.  Roslin stands in the tunnel outside the small supply room, watching them.

She'd kept an eye on them ever since the beginning, since Maya first adopted the child that was once known as Hera.  No matter how things might fall out, Roslin had been certain that it was imperative that someone who knew the truth watch over her, one way or another.  She still believes that.  

Born of a Cylon and a human together.  How is it even possible?

Whether the child is a blessing or a curse on them all, Roslin couldn't say.  But Isis exists, and right now that's enough.

Of course, right now that's the danger, too.  As Anders hurries along the tunnel to join her, Roslin turns to him.

"Sam.  Thank you for coming."

"It's no problem.  Really."  He shakes her hand when she offers it, saying,  "I don't know what else I can tell you, though.  We already plan to keep her on the move, same as other high-value targets."

Roslin shakes her head.  "It's not enough.  I need you to really hear me on this."  She meets his eyes.  "There is no one -- no one -- who is of higher value than Maya and her child.  We cannot let them fall into Cylon hands."

Anders stares at her for a second, then nods.

"I get it."  He glances into the room, then lowers his voice.  "How far do you want me to go?  I  mean, if it looks like the Cylons are gonna capture them--"

She cuts him off.  "Don't let it get to that point."

"Okay."  He takes a deep breath, then nods again.  "Okay."  He risks another glance into the room, then turns to her with curiosity he can't hide.  "I don't suppose you're going to tell me what this is all about.  What's so important about this kid?"

Roslin gives him a bitter, bitter smile.

"She may very well be the shape of things to come."

* * * * * * * * * * * *

They've all gathered in the insurgents' bunker.  This will be the last chance they have to plan, they all know it, and there's not much time. 

Pegasus isn't coming; no one knows why.  But Galactica is, and they intend to be ready.

"We've stored arms and munitions in key areas throughout the city," Tyrol says.  Mathias nods.

"I can add to that.  We've got mortars, RPGs, even a few shoulder-mount anti-aircraft missiles on the Raptor."

"Great."  Tyrol gives her a sharp grin.  "When we give the signal, our people are gonna attack the airbase, the detention center, the power station, other critical facilities.  The idea is to sow as much chaos as we can the moment Galactica and Pegasus arrive.  That should help cover the evacuation."

Mathias nods again.  "What about your evac plans?"

Roslin nods to Tory, who says, "We've designated and assigned five hundred block captains to cover each sector of the city.  Each captain is responsible for rallying and guiding the people in their sectors along the escape routes to their designated ships."

"Don't suppose you've been able to rehearse any of this," Zarek observes.

"Indeed we have."  It's not Tory who answers, nor is it Tigh, nor Tyrol, nor Anders; it's Roslin.   "We've had three full dress rehearsals under the guise of fire and natural disaster drills."

"Be different when the balloon goes up," Mathias puts in.  "There's likely to be some panic out there."

"They'll do fine," she says, and there's nothing but absolute certainty in her voice.  Roslin turns, looking around the room at them all, one by one.   "These people know that this is their chance.  We're all in this together.  All we need to do is be ready, and hope for the best."

One by one, they each meet her eyes, and nod back.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

The scene above ground is one of mass chaos, filled with running people.   Guns bark and chatter as small, pitched battles break out all over the settlement.

As her group leaves the bunker to make their own run for it, Roslin draws to a stop, reaching for Zarek's arm.

"Tom, we need to split up, just in case.  You go that way.  Head to the shipyard."

"What about you?"

Roslin smiles at him, and points at Colonial One.

"My ship's there."


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Laura Roslin

January 2015

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