New Caprica City, New Caprica, Early Monday Afternoon
“Ms. Roslin!”
The cheer went up simultaneously from the entire back row of students, and was immediately echoed by the remainder of the class as they turned and rose, completely ignoring her former presidential aide, Tory Foster, as the young woman stood at the front of the classroom. Laura chuckled despite herself as she was practically tackled by a few of the more affectionate children. She hugged them back, then generally directed them back to their seats. “I’m sorry, Ms. Foster. I didn’t think my arrival would cause this much of a disruption.”
Tory smiled. “It’s all right, ma’am. We were just finishing up for the day.” Still smiling, she turned to the class. “Okay, everyone has their homework. Make sure you get it done for tomorrow!”
There was a collective groan, promptly followed by a cacophony of sound as the students began shuffling papers and books, talking among themselves; some rushed up and began firing questions at their former teacher.
“Are you back?”
“Where’d you go?”
“Have you really been on the Galactica?”
“Whoa!” Roslin exclaimed, holding her hands up. “Easy with the questions!” She knelt down, looking some of the smaller children in the eye. “No, I’m not back permanently” -- some of the kids visibly sagged at this -- “but I’m here for the week, and I definitely plan on checking up on all of you. For now, head on home; I’m sure your parents will be glad to see you.”
“Awww!”
Standing, she watched them shuffle off, shaking her head as Tory approached her. “I do miss working with the little ones some days,” she said. “Some days. So much simpler.” A smile curved her lips as Tory looked to her, brows furrowed. “Teenagers have hormones, Tory. It complicates matters immensely.”
“I’m learning that,” Tory said. Her eyes danced with an impish gleam. “I hear feelings can complicate matters pretty badly, too.”
“Oh, no you don’t!” Roslin pointed an accusing finger. “I’ve already had to put up with Saul Tigh and his smartass comments. You’re supposed to be on my side, Tory -- especially since it’s just a cover story.”
“All right, all right,” the younger woman relented, hands up in surrender. “I just remember something you once told me: the best lie is the one closest to the truth.”
Closing her eyes, Laura sighed. “I knew I was going to regret telling you that.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. Especially when it’s far to applicable right now. Shaking her head, she looked back at Tory, making an attempt to change the conversation. “How are Maya and Isis?”
“Maya has a bit of a cold,” Tory replied, “but Isis is, of course, doing fine. Maya has really been a huge help in the classroom. I think they both miss you, but we’re managing.” She paused. “We know what you’re doing now is more important.”
“It’s only more important, Tory, if we get off this planet and begin the search again. While Baltar is president, we both know that isn’t going to happen.”
“And what about Tom Zarek?”
At this, Laura pursed her lips. “I’m not sure. Zarek was the one who suggested this plan -- this settlement -- in the first place; to introduce it as a political issue. Would he be willing to tuck tail and leave, if something happened to Baltar?” She shrugged. “I’m just not sure. And I’m certainly not advocating any...adverse...action be taken against a sitting president, much as I might like to deliver it myself.
“No, our system has to continue, or we might as well have died in the initial bombings.”
A long moment of silence fell over them. Each remembered vividly that day, over a year ago now, when the universe spun and reality imploded; life, as they knew it, ended with an abrupt flash of light. They were still picking up the pieces, really. But life was continuing. And, if she and Adama had anything to do about it, they would eventually find Earth.
Tory broke the silence. “Come on, Madam President,” she said, grinning slightly. “I’ll fill you in on the latest ‘proposed curriculum.’ You’re just going to love this...”
[NFB, due to distance, as per the norm this week. =)]
The cheer went up simultaneously from the entire back row of students, and was immediately echoed by the remainder of the class as they turned and rose, completely ignoring her former presidential aide, Tory Foster, as the young woman stood at the front of the classroom. Laura chuckled despite herself as she was practically tackled by a few of the more affectionate children. She hugged them back, then generally directed them back to their seats. “I’m sorry, Ms. Foster. I didn’t think my arrival would cause this much of a disruption.”
Tory smiled. “It’s all right, ma’am. We were just finishing up for the day.” Still smiling, she turned to the class. “Okay, everyone has their homework. Make sure you get it done for tomorrow!”
There was a collective groan, promptly followed by a cacophony of sound as the students began shuffling papers and books, talking among themselves; some rushed up and began firing questions at their former teacher.
“Are you back?”
“Where’d you go?”
“Have you really been on the Galactica?”
“Whoa!” Roslin exclaimed, holding her hands up. “Easy with the questions!” She knelt down, looking some of the smaller children in the eye. “No, I’m not back permanently” -- some of the kids visibly sagged at this -- “but I’m here for the week, and I definitely plan on checking up on all of you. For now, head on home; I’m sure your parents will be glad to see you.”
“Awww!”
Standing, she watched them shuffle off, shaking her head as Tory approached her. “I do miss working with the little ones some days,” she said. “Some days. So much simpler.” A smile curved her lips as Tory looked to her, brows furrowed. “Teenagers have hormones, Tory. It complicates matters immensely.”
“I’m learning that,” Tory said. Her eyes danced with an impish gleam. “I hear feelings can complicate matters pretty badly, too.”
“Oh, no you don’t!” Roslin pointed an accusing finger. “I’ve already had to put up with Saul Tigh and his smartass comments. You’re supposed to be on my side, Tory -- especially since it’s just a cover story.”
“All right, all right,” the younger woman relented, hands up in surrender. “I just remember something you once told me: the best lie is the one closest to the truth.”
Closing her eyes, Laura sighed. “I knew I was going to regret telling you that.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. Especially when it’s far to applicable right now. Shaking her head, she looked back at Tory, making an attempt to change the conversation. “How are Maya and Isis?”
“Maya has a bit of a cold,” Tory replied, “but Isis is, of course, doing fine. Maya has really been a huge help in the classroom. I think they both miss you, but we’re managing.” She paused. “We know what you’re doing now is more important.”
“It’s only more important, Tory, if we get off this planet and begin the search again. While Baltar is president, we both know that isn’t going to happen.”
“And what about Tom Zarek?”
At this, Laura pursed her lips. “I’m not sure. Zarek was the one who suggested this plan -- this settlement -- in the first place; to introduce it as a political issue. Would he be willing to tuck tail and leave, if something happened to Baltar?” She shrugged. “I’m just not sure. And I’m certainly not advocating any...adverse...action be taken against a sitting president, much as I might like to deliver it myself.
“No, our system has to continue, or we might as well have died in the initial bombings.”
A long moment of silence fell over them. Each remembered vividly that day, over a year ago now, when the universe spun and reality imploded; life, as they knew it, ended with an abrupt flash of light. They were still picking up the pieces, really. But life was continuing. And, if she and Adama had anything to do about it, they would eventually find Earth.
Tory broke the silence. “Come on, Madam President,” she said, grinning slightly. “I’ll fill you in on the latest ‘proposed curriculum.’ You’re just going to love this...”
[NFB, due to distance, as per the norm this week. =)]