[presidentpythia]

She uses the brief respite after Tyrol leaves to rub her temples, trying to push away the headache. Even though Lee's taking more and more of the responsibilities of the office on his shoulders these days, there are still some things that she, herself, has to do.

Signing Boomer's transfer order -- or, to be realistic, her death warrant -- was one of them.

This is another.

There's a polite rap at her door from the Marine guard stationed outside, and she straightens in her seat and raises her voice, calling out,

"Send him in."

Comments

[presidentpythia]

Roslin stares at him.

"You're sure."

[faithful_lt]

"Yes, ma'am."

He hesitates for a second.

"Do you -- Madam President, do you remember when the food supplies were contaminated? And we were trying to make the passage to the other side of that star cluster?"

[presidentpythia]

"Yes, of course I do."

Why he's bringing it up, however, is something she doesn't know.

[faithful_lt]

"It was when - you were making a report. Over the all-Fleet channel."

He'd been running communications at the time, trying as hard as he godsdamned could to keep all the ships in contact with each other despite the constant crackle of radiation eating away at the signal, trying to dissolve the frail links between them all.

"...here we are, dwindling away out in space...
...It's very hard. For you all to keep... your strength and your determination, but your fates are no longer determined by what you do..."

"You said something then that I've never forgotten."

"...and the truth is that all we have left here is our belief in each other. All we have left is each other's trust."

"You reminded us all how important it was that we trust each other."

"...and so I'm asking you please, never let it go."

He meets her eyes.

"So yes, I'm sure. You had a reason."

[presidentpythia]

For a moment, she's not certain she's going to be able to speak. Her vision blurs with treacherous mist at the thought of that desperate hour, of all the desperate hours since then, of how far they've come and how close they are now to the end of everything -- and still, still, there are people that need her so very, very much. That depend on her, despite her failings.

That trust in her.

She blinks furiously, fighting back the tears that threaten, and clears her throat.

"I see," Roslin says, quietly, when she's sure she's back in command of herself. "Thank you, Lieutenant Hoshi."

She allows another second of quiet to stand between them while she draws a breath.

"Now. What did you come here to ask me?"

[faithful_lt]

And here it is: do it now or do it never, and either way there's no turning back.

"You know that Galactica's in very bad shape," Hoshi says. "She's got only a few jumps left in her at most."

A beat, as he flattens his hands out against his legs, just above his knees, unconsciously bracing himself.

"I wanted to ask if there was something we could do. With Milliways. Somehow. To ... to make another passage, or something like it. To -- I don't know where. To one of the other Earths, maybe."

[presidentpythia]

Roslin is silent for what feels like a very long time, considering the possibilities.




"I don't know," she says, at last. "But I think we should find out."

[faithful_lt]

The breath he hadn't realized he was holding rushes out of him in a sigh of relief.

"Thank you, Madam President. Thank you."

[presidentpythia]

"You're welcome."

She pushes herself to her feet, biting back a hiss of pain, and starts toward the door.

"Come on. Let's go."

[faithful_lt]

Hoshi hastily gets to his feet and hurries to join her.

"Go? You mean -- right now, Madam President?"

[presidentpythia]

She glances over at him.

"I don't see any reason to wait, do you?"

[faithful_lt]

Oh, gods. It looks as though he isn't going to have the chance to warn Felix about this, and if --

Hoshi spares a second to raise a silent plea for help to all the gods, then swallows hard and nods.

"No, Madam President. There's no reason to wait."