[Fic] The Agency: Troubles Compounded
Chapter Five: Light Reading
Rating: M
Fandom: Battlestar Galactica
Pairing: Adama/Roslin
Author's Note: For summary, categories, disclaimer and warnings, see Chapter One. Cain's story may well seem out of place here, but it's a tale that I felt was important to tell now. Still, I hate this chapter and will be glad when it's out of the way.
Chapter Five: Light Reading
John Borders’ office turned out to be the one next to Roslin’s, the second of the closed doors he’d seen. The Chief himself showed him in, told him to make himself comfortable, and left.
The older man had said there was a stack of boxes in there. There were four stacks. Bill almost groaned aloud. Deciding it wouldn’t hurt to put it off a moment more, he took in his surroundings. It was basically empty, except for the furniture. It seemed Borders had already cleared out all personal touches. Then, thinking of the stand-offish man he’d just met, Bill thought maybe there’d been no personal touches to start with.
The office wasn’t as big as Roslin’s, but still much larger than any previous office he’d had throughout his career as an officer. He first noticed the glass panel on the right hand wall, glad to see it. If he did take the job, and that was a big if at the current time, he would enjoy the view of the water. The wall size bookshelf was also a seller, along with the large desk and comfortable seating.
The door to the far left behind the desk caught his eye and he moved to inspect it. He was surprised to find a large living area, currently empty, complete with bedroom, bathroom and kitchen.
After exploring for a long while, procrastinating if he were honest, he eyed the boxes wearily, reached for the closest one and carried it to the couch. It was stuffed with paper files and with a heavy sigh, he pulled out the top one.
Three hours and four boxes later, Bill’s opinion of the Agency had skewed somewhat. From all he’d seen, they were doing good work. He still didn’t like that they didn’t receive instructions from any higher powers, but if he took the job, he’d be one of the two that could make sure they didn’t veer off track.
He’d read through their procedure manuals; he’d found their approaches sensible and efficient. They were organized, as well trained as any military unit he’d ever seen, and everything in the manuals was from a practical point of view.
The only thing that bothered him while skimming through those was the blatant disregard for the law. He’d seen the phrase when such measures are called for a few more times than he would have liked.
The manuals clearly instructed agents that they could, albeit discretely, break into homes and businesses, carry unlicensed weapons, even take prisoners for questioning on gut-instinct alone when such measures are called for.
He’d also read many, many mission reports. He read about an atheist doctor that had been working on a biological weapon to drop on Geminon - he’d been detained, declared legally insane and locked away in a maximum security institution. All research and samples of the weapon had been collected and destroyed by the Agency.
There were almost a dozen reports on a sect calling themselves Disconnection who were violently against the Unification Treaty that had brought the Colonies together. The Agency had thwarted almost five high-level attacks by the group and captured several of the big players. They were still working on wiping out the group completely.
A terrorist attack which would have killed hundreds, if not thousands, of families enjoying Mars Day celebrations was stopped.
A high profile politician who was blackmailing others into passing a law that would put Sagittarons on a level somewhere beneath cattle had been ‘convinced’ it was time for him to retire and move to an isolated island on Aquaria.
And many other such cases. It was good work, Bill had to give them that.
He’d been surprised to read that there were almost two hundred active employees of the Agency. Caprica had thirty field agents alone, the rest scattered across the Colonies, some in sensitive positions - such as the young woman playing the part of a trusted aide in the President’s office. To his disgust he saw there were several who wore Fleet uniforms loyal to the Agency as well.
There were field medics, a high number of doctors and nurses, computer technicians, engineers, scientists, security personnel. Not that much different from the Fleet, really. Someone to fill every position, carry out every duty.
Well organized, efficient and superbly effective. They were discreet and good at what they did. And it seemed to him that in most situations he’d read about, he agreed with what they were doing.
His eyes tired and his body beginning to cramp, Bill stood up and stretched out, then exited the office. The Directors assistant still sat at his desk, and Bill asked him, “Billy, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, sir,” the aide smiled. “Billy Keikeya.”
Bill returned the smile. “Do you think the Director would mind if I went for a walk about the facility? I need a break from those reports.”
“I doubt she’d mind, sir. Though she does want to speak to you before you return to the surface.”
“I’ve no intention of leaving before I talk to her,” Bill assured him and then left the kids realm, heading into the main office. There were only three agents left in there and none of them paid him any mind as he wandered through.
He checked out the briefing room, managed to get turned around and somehow find himself in Life Station, able to peer through the glass across the hall from it into a well equipped laboratory. A nurse was kind enough to point him back to the main hallway.
He found Lee in the galley, looking to be freshly out of the shower, eating a bowl of something or other as he read over a report. Bill sat down across from him and his son lifted his head, tensed slightly.
“Feel free to help yourself,” Lee told him, trying to be cordial. “There’s always fresh coffee and something to snack on.”
Bill shook his head. “I’m fine, thanks.” Then asked what he’d been wondering for hours. “Why’d you join the Agency?”
Lee looked up at him again, then shook his own head, putting his spoon in his bowl and pushing it away. “Look, you’re either going to take the job or you’re not. Take your time, whatever, but make up your mind and leave me out of your thought process.”
Raising his hands in a gesture meant to calm, Bill said, “I’m just asking, son. I’m curious. Do you think I should take the job?”
Lee sighed. “Do I think you should or do I want you to? I’ll be honest, I’m against the appointment. Only because … working with you … as my supervisor, no less. I've made a place for myself here, with no influence from being William Adama's son. And I came here specifically because ...
"It’s been three years, Dad and I still …” he met Bill’s eyes in an intense stare, then abruptly dropped them and returned to the original question. “Should you take the job? That’s entirely up to you.”
Also trying to move past the horrible things between them - not today, later, when they’re more ready for it - Bill told him, “When Roslin originally laid it all out for me, I was wary. No jurisdiction, no overseer, complete and total secrecy? It’s a little worrying.”
Finally, Lee seemed to soften, just a touch. He nodded. “It is, to start with. Until you realize that these are the best of the best, great people and we’re all working to do good by the Colonies and its citizens.”
“You really believe in the whole thing?”
“Yes, I do,” Lee said firmly. “I believe in the people. I believe in our mission. I believe in Laura Roslin; she won’t lead us astray.”
Bill commented, “You seem to trust her a lot.”
Again, Lee spoke firmly. “I do. With my life, because I know she’ll never put it at risk unless it’s for something important.” Toying with the spoon in the bowl, he went on to tell Bill, “You want to know why I resigned my commission and signed up here? She’s why. She saw potential in me and she convinced me that I would be more use here than I am in a viper and she was right.
“We’re not at war at the moment; my job in the Fleet was all CAP and training exercises. I was a good pilot, but I feel like I’m useful here. We’re saving lives every day, we’re averting disaster every day. We’re not sitting around in space waiting for something to blow up in our faces. We’re actively seeking the bomb and dismantling it.”
Bill absorbed it all, then questioned, “How’d you meet her?”
“You know Admiral Cain?” Bill nodded. “You remember her sudden resignation a few years ago, how it surprised everyone because she’d just made the rank?”
Again, Bill nodded, thinking back. It had surprised most of the Fleet. Helena Cain was known for being ambitious and ruthless. She'd climbed the ranks remarkably quickly and then, so soon after she’d received her gold pins, she’d up and quit.
Lee explained, “It wasn’t sudden and it wasn’t her choice. It had been brewing for a few months. I was assigned to the Pegasus at the time, got caught in the middle of it all. Cain had been slowly getting more and more anti-civilian. The Admiralty was worried, but she was doing her job well and her crew respected her, there was nothing they could do; it was just her point of view.
“Still, they were getting itchy about it. She’d become more outspoken and the radicals in the Fleet were starting to listen. You obviously know that a few high ranking admirals have Agency connections, so they made the call. Roslin came to the Pegasus herself. Admiral Wallace came on an inspection tour, Roslin accompanied him under the guise of his girlfriend visiting a battlestar for the first time.”
Bill listened intently, getting sucked into the story his son was telling, though a large part of him was merely enjoying the fact that Lee was speaking to him so much, and so freely.
His son went on, uninterrupted. “Turns out it was worse than anyone had thought. I mean, she wasn’t just against civilians, she had plans against them. Roslin found out about them. When Cain reached Fleet Commanding Admiral, which she would have eventually the way she was going, she was going to declare martial law and take over.”
The former commander could hardly believe it. “That’s insane.”
Lee just nodded. “That’s the point. She’d lost her mind and certainly her rational thought. Her hatred had eaten at her for years and she was convinced the Cylon’s would return, that the civilian population would just get in the way of winning the inevitable war, and so she was going to pillage every planet and draft every man until she was convinced they would be no match when they came back.”
“You got caught up in it?”
“Dead center, literally,” Lee told him. “It came to a stand off, Roslin and Cain, both of them pointing guns at the others head.”
Bill had a little trouble picturing Laura Roslin with a gun in her hand. She’d struck him as the bureaucratic type, but he let his imagination wander and it was like a scene out of a spy novel; the two women aiming their weapons and then trading witty barbs. It was a little sexy, if he were honest.
“Not knowing anything about Cain’s plans - I was just a pilot - I burst into the room. On instinct, I aimed at Roslin.” Lee shook his head and smiled. “She didn’t even glance my way, just started explaining the situation calmly, told me I could ask Admiral Wallace about it all if I wanted to, said, ‘The Admiral and I will wait right here, won’t we, Helena?’”
Bill gave a brief incredulous laugh. “What did you do?”
Lee shook his head. “I didn’t know what to do. Roslin’s making sense, I’d heard Cain’s rants before, and I knew she was cold-hearted. But my commanding officer is yelling at me to shoot Roslin, ordering me to.
“I kept my gun on them, carefully made my way to the comm. and called Wallace, informed him of the situation. Then I tried to talk them both down, which was impossible. Finally, I told them I’d shoot them both. That was enough to make them hold back a bit, then Wallace came in with the cavalry and arrested Cain.
“After it was all over, Roslin took me aside and told me I’d done well. She said she hadn’t wanted to shoot the Admiral and I’d called Wallace and bought enough time for him to arrive,” said the younger man.
“Then she asked if I was looking for a change of career. I told her I wasn’t, but she gave me the Agency’s card and said that if I ever changed my mind, call.”
Then Lee seemed to remember who he was talking to and his frame tensed. He finished what he was saying nonetheless. “Then Zak died and I just … I didn’t want to wear the same uniform he’d died in anymore. I didn’t want to wear the same uniform as you anymore.”
Like a blade across the belly, that hurt. Bill felt it like physical pain, but he kept it off his face, merely clenching his jaw and taking a deep breath. It wasn’t the same as after the funeral, Lee didn’t mean to hurt him this time, wasn’t carefully aiming words that would cause the most pain, he was just being honest.
Lee went on, “I called the number the next chance I could and asked her what I’d be getting into. She said, ‘You’d be useful again. You’d be saving lives. You’d be actively protecting the Colonies.’ I put in to muster out the next day and two months later I started my training with the Agency.”
His son pushed up from the table and started for the door, stopped. “Look, Dad, I don’t know how we’ll work together, I don’t …” he trailed off, shaking his head. “The Director asked me, when we were arguing over whether or not you were the right person for the position, whether I honestly thought, professionally, you would do a good job. She asked if I thought you were a good person, capable of leading good people.”
Then he met Bill’s eyes and said, “The trust between us goes both ways. She wouldn’t have told Nagala to give you the card, or taken your call, if I’d said no. I don’t know how we’ll work together,” he repeated, “but just don’t not take the job because of me. Just … if you think you can do well here and you want to, I’ll find a way to deal with it.”
With that, he walked out of the galley, not looking back again. Bill sat silent and stunned for a long time, thinking over everything he’d been told, everything Lee had revealed.
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Rating: M
Fandom: Battlestar Galactica
Pairing: Adama/Roslin
Author's Note: For summary, categories, disclaimer and warnings, see Chapter One. Cain's story may well seem out of place here, but it's a tale that I felt was important to tell now. Still, I hate this chapter and will be glad when it's out of the way.
Chapter Five: Light Reading
John Borders’ office turned out to be the one next to Roslin’s, the second of the closed doors he’d seen. The Chief himself showed him in, told him to make himself comfortable, and left.
The older man had said there was a stack of boxes in there. There were four stacks. Bill almost groaned aloud. Deciding it wouldn’t hurt to put it off a moment more, he took in his surroundings. It was basically empty, except for the furniture. It seemed Borders had already cleared out all personal touches. Then, thinking of the stand-offish man he’d just met, Bill thought maybe there’d been no personal touches to start with.
The office wasn’t as big as Roslin’s, but still much larger than any previous office he’d had throughout his career as an officer. He first noticed the glass panel on the right hand wall, glad to see it. If he did take the job, and that was a big if at the current time, he would enjoy the view of the water. The wall size bookshelf was also a seller, along with the large desk and comfortable seating.
The door to the far left behind the desk caught his eye and he moved to inspect it. He was surprised to find a large living area, currently empty, complete with bedroom, bathroom and kitchen.
After exploring for a long while, procrastinating if he were honest, he eyed the boxes wearily, reached for the closest one and carried it to the couch. It was stuffed with paper files and with a heavy sigh, he pulled out the top one.
Three hours and four boxes later, Bill’s opinion of the Agency had skewed somewhat. From all he’d seen, they were doing good work. He still didn’t like that they didn’t receive instructions from any higher powers, but if he took the job, he’d be one of the two that could make sure they didn’t veer off track.
He’d read through their procedure manuals; he’d found their approaches sensible and efficient. They were organized, as well trained as any military unit he’d ever seen, and everything in the manuals was from a practical point of view.
The only thing that bothered him while skimming through those was the blatant disregard for the law. He’d seen the phrase when such measures are called for a few more times than he would have liked.
The manuals clearly instructed agents that they could, albeit discretely, break into homes and businesses, carry unlicensed weapons, even take prisoners for questioning on gut-instinct alone when such measures are called for.
He’d also read many, many mission reports. He read about an atheist doctor that had been working on a biological weapon to drop on Geminon - he’d been detained, declared legally insane and locked away in a maximum security institution. All research and samples of the weapon had been collected and destroyed by the Agency.
There were almost a dozen reports on a sect calling themselves Disconnection who were violently against the Unification Treaty that had brought the Colonies together. The Agency had thwarted almost five high-level attacks by the group and captured several of the big players. They were still working on wiping out the group completely.
A terrorist attack which would have killed hundreds, if not thousands, of families enjoying Mars Day celebrations was stopped.
A high profile politician who was blackmailing others into passing a law that would put Sagittarons on a level somewhere beneath cattle had been ‘convinced’ it was time for him to retire and move to an isolated island on Aquaria.
And many other such cases. It was good work, Bill had to give them that.
He’d been surprised to read that there were almost two hundred active employees of the Agency. Caprica had thirty field agents alone, the rest scattered across the Colonies, some in sensitive positions - such as the young woman playing the part of a trusted aide in the President’s office. To his disgust he saw there were several who wore Fleet uniforms loyal to the Agency as well.
There were field medics, a high number of doctors and nurses, computer technicians, engineers, scientists, security personnel. Not that much different from the Fleet, really. Someone to fill every position, carry out every duty.
Well organized, efficient and superbly effective. They were discreet and good at what they did. And it seemed to him that in most situations he’d read about, he agreed with what they were doing.
His eyes tired and his body beginning to cramp, Bill stood up and stretched out, then exited the office. The Directors assistant still sat at his desk, and Bill asked him, “Billy, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, sir,” the aide smiled. “Billy Keikeya.”
Bill returned the smile. “Do you think the Director would mind if I went for a walk about the facility? I need a break from those reports.”
“I doubt she’d mind, sir. Though she does want to speak to you before you return to the surface.”
“I’ve no intention of leaving before I talk to her,” Bill assured him and then left the kids realm, heading into the main office. There were only three agents left in there and none of them paid him any mind as he wandered through.
He checked out the briefing room, managed to get turned around and somehow find himself in Life Station, able to peer through the glass across the hall from it into a well equipped laboratory. A nurse was kind enough to point him back to the main hallway.
He found Lee in the galley, looking to be freshly out of the shower, eating a bowl of something or other as he read over a report. Bill sat down across from him and his son lifted his head, tensed slightly.
“Feel free to help yourself,” Lee told him, trying to be cordial. “There’s always fresh coffee and something to snack on.”
Bill shook his head. “I’m fine, thanks.” Then asked what he’d been wondering for hours. “Why’d you join the Agency?”
Lee looked up at him again, then shook his own head, putting his spoon in his bowl and pushing it away. “Look, you’re either going to take the job or you’re not. Take your time, whatever, but make up your mind and leave me out of your thought process.”
Raising his hands in a gesture meant to calm, Bill said, “I’m just asking, son. I’m curious. Do you think I should take the job?”
Lee sighed. “Do I think you should or do I want you to? I’ll be honest, I’m against the appointment. Only because … working with you … as my supervisor, no less. I've made a place for myself here, with no influence from being William Adama's son. And I came here specifically because ...
"It’s been three years, Dad and I still …” he met Bill’s eyes in an intense stare, then abruptly dropped them and returned to the original question. “Should you take the job? That’s entirely up to you.”
Also trying to move past the horrible things between them - not today, later, when they’re more ready for it - Bill told him, “When Roslin originally laid it all out for me, I was wary. No jurisdiction, no overseer, complete and total secrecy? It’s a little worrying.”
Finally, Lee seemed to soften, just a touch. He nodded. “It is, to start with. Until you realize that these are the best of the best, great people and we’re all working to do good by the Colonies and its citizens.”
“You really believe in the whole thing?”
“Yes, I do,” Lee said firmly. “I believe in the people. I believe in our mission. I believe in Laura Roslin; she won’t lead us astray.”
Bill commented, “You seem to trust her a lot.”
Again, Lee spoke firmly. “I do. With my life, because I know she’ll never put it at risk unless it’s for something important.” Toying with the spoon in the bowl, he went on to tell Bill, “You want to know why I resigned my commission and signed up here? She’s why. She saw potential in me and she convinced me that I would be more use here than I am in a viper and she was right.
“We’re not at war at the moment; my job in the Fleet was all CAP and training exercises. I was a good pilot, but I feel like I’m useful here. We’re saving lives every day, we’re averting disaster every day. We’re not sitting around in space waiting for something to blow up in our faces. We’re actively seeking the bomb and dismantling it.”
Bill absorbed it all, then questioned, “How’d you meet her?”
“You know Admiral Cain?” Bill nodded. “You remember her sudden resignation a few years ago, how it surprised everyone because she’d just made the rank?”
Again, Bill nodded, thinking back. It had surprised most of the Fleet. Helena Cain was known for being ambitious and ruthless. She'd climbed the ranks remarkably quickly and then, so soon after she’d received her gold pins, she’d up and quit.
Lee explained, “It wasn’t sudden and it wasn’t her choice. It had been brewing for a few months. I was assigned to the Pegasus at the time, got caught in the middle of it all. Cain had been slowly getting more and more anti-civilian. The Admiralty was worried, but she was doing her job well and her crew respected her, there was nothing they could do; it was just her point of view.
“Still, they were getting itchy about it. She’d become more outspoken and the radicals in the Fleet were starting to listen. You obviously know that a few high ranking admirals have Agency connections, so they made the call. Roslin came to the Pegasus herself. Admiral Wallace came on an inspection tour, Roslin accompanied him under the guise of his girlfriend visiting a battlestar for the first time.”
Bill listened intently, getting sucked into the story his son was telling, though a large part of him was merely enjoying the fact that Lee was speaking to him so much, and so freely.
His son went on, uninterrupted. “Turns out it was worse than anyone had thought. I mean, she wasn’t just against civilians, she had plans against them. Roslin found out about them. When Cain reached Fleet Commanding Admiral, which she would have eventually the way she was going, she was going to declare martial law and take over.”
The former commander could hardly believe it. “That’s insane.”
Lee just nodded. “That’s the point. She’d lost her mind and certainly her rational thought. Her hatred had eaten at her for years and she was convinced the Cylon’s would return, that the civilian population would just get in the way of winning the inevitable war, and so she was going to pillage every planet and draft every man until she was convinced they would be no match when they came back.”
“You got caught up in it?”
“Dead center, literally,” Lee told him. “It came to a stand off, Roslin and Cain, both of them pointing guns at the others head.”
Bill had a little trouble picturing Laura Roslin with a gun in her hand. She’d struck him as the bureaucratic type, but he let his imagination wander and it was like a scene out of a spy novel; the two women aiming their weapons and then trading witty barbs. It was a little sexy, if he were honest.
“Not knowing anything about Cain’s plans - I was just a pilot - I burst into the room. On instinct, I aimed at Roslin.” Lee shook his head and smiled. “She didn’t even glance my way, just started explaining the situation calmly, told me I could ask Admiral Wallace about it all if I wanted to, said, ‘The Admiral and I will wait right here, won’t we, Helena?’”
Bill gave a brief incredulous laugh. “What did you do?”
Lee shook his head. “I didn’t know what to do. Roslin’s making sense, I’d heard Cain’s rants before, and I knew she was cold-hearted. But my commanding officer is yelling at me to shoot Roslin, ordering me to.
“I kept my gun on them, carefully made my way to the comm. and called Wallace, informed him of the situation. Then I tried to talk them both down, which was impossible. Finally, I told them I’d shoot them both. That was enough to make them hold back a bit, then Wallace came in with the cavalry and arrested Cain.
“After it was all over, Roslin took me aside and told me I’d done well. She said she hadn’t wanted to shoot the Admiral and I’d called Wallace and bought enough time for him to arrive,” said the younger man.
“Then she asked if I was looking for a change of career. I told her I wasn’t, but she gave me the Agency’s card and said that if I ever changed my mind, call.”
Then Lee seemed to remember who he was talking to and his frame tensed. He finished what he was saying nonetheless. “Then Zak died and I just … I didn’t want to wear the same uniform he’d died in anymore. I didn’t want to wear the same uniform as you anymore.”
Like a blade across the belly, that hurt. Bill felt it like physical pain, but he kept it off his face, merely clenching his jaw and taking a deep breath. It wasn’t the same as after the funeral, Lee didn’t mean to hurt him this time, wasn’t carefully aiming words that would cause the most pain, he was just being honest.
Lee went on, “I called the number the next chance I could and asked her what I’d be getting into. She said, ‘You’d be useful again. You’d be saving lives. You’d be actively protecting the Colonies.’ I put in to muster out the next day and two months later I started my training with the Agency.”
His son pushed up from the table and started for the door, stopped. “Look, Dad, I don’t know how we’ll work together, I don’t …” he trailed off, shaking his head. “The Director asked me, when we were arguing over whether or not you were the right person for the position, whether I honestly thought, professionally, you would do a good job. She asked if I thought you were a good person, capable of leading good people.”
Then he met Bill’s eyes and said, “The trust between us goes both ways. She wouldn’t have told Nagala to give you the card, or taken your call, if I’d said no. I don’t know how we’ll work together,” he repeated, “but just don’t not take the job because of me. Just … if you think you can do well here and you want to, I’ll find a way to deal with it.”
With that, he walked out of the galley, not looking back again. Bill sat silent and stunned for a long time, thinking over everything he’d been told, everything Lee had revealed.
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