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She'd never been willing to allow hidden weapons storage among the school supplies, declaring that the danger to the children in case of discovery was far too high. Other things, however, such as extra food and undocumented medical supplies, were deemed an acceptable risk, or at least one that could be explained away if the worst should happen.

In light of Gaeta's warning, however, it had seemed prudent to arrange for those to be relocated as well, at least for the time being. When a group of Cylons shows up on the riverbank on the seventy-third day of the occupation to interrupt her class with the presentation of a warrant, Roslin knows she'd been right.

The One leading the expedition mock-courteously offers to escort her to a more congenial setting for discussion to talk about what he'd termed 'her little educational endeavor.' She agrees, just as politely; not that there was any real question of declining, of course. Leaving the students in Maya's care, Roslin walks alongside her 'escort' with her head held high all the way to the detention center.

They pass by the school on the way; the One had made sure of it, she knows, wanting her to see the team of Centurions searching the storage tent and schoolroom space under the watchful direction of a pair of Fives and a Three.

It's not only the Cylons who are observing, though, she notices. A silent crowd has gathered in a circle around the area, watching every move. A sideways look at the One confirms that he's seen it, too.



She is released that afternoon, only a few hours later. For whatever reason, the interview had turned out to be fairly perfunctory after all; maybe the search was the real purpose, maybe the entire thing was a simple demonstration of authority, the gods only know. Roslin certainly can't say, although she can speculate. She returns to the school before going back to her tent, just long enough to reassure the children and Maya that everything's all right and that classes will continue as usual.

They do. Life goes on.

Roslin is straightening up the supply tent a few days later when she finds the note.



"Are you out of your frakkin' mind?" Tigh stares at Roslin in disbelief. "Lady, I've heard some crazy ideas in my time, but -- you know this has got to be a Cylon trap, and you're suggesting we just walk right into it?"

"I don't know that, Colonel, and neither do you," she responds. Anders and Tyrol are standing to one side, listening; she glances toward them to make sure they know that they're included in the discussion, as far as she's concerned, before directing her attention back to Tigh. "Given the number of people who were watching while the tent was torn apart and who Maya says helped to put things back together, any one of them could have found that scrap of paper and written the reply. Besides, if it is a trap, if the Cylons have cracked the encryption, don't we need to know that?"

Tigh shakes his head and swears under his breath. Anders nods, but he's frowning. "It's risky. Trap or not, whoever goes is likely to be watched, maybe even identified--"

"I'll do it." All eyes turn to Tyrol as he takes one step forward.



From Roslin's journal, entry dated the eighty-sixth day of Cylon occupation, New Caprica:

Information found in the notebook left by the unknown source has now been confirmed. While it's possible that we're still dealing with a cleverly-set trap, general opinion has begun to shift.

It appears that the resistance may have a new ally.

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Laura Roslin

January 2015

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