Deliverance (5/?)
Title: Deliverance
Author: coexist_love
Rating: MA
Fandom: Battlestar Galactica 2003
Character: General with Roslin/Adama emphasis
Summary: A normal day on among the fleet is disturbed when an unidentified assailant attempts to assassinate President Roslin.
Disclaimer: Not written for money and if I owned Galactica this would have already happened.
Spoilers: Flight of the Pheonix through Epiphanies
Author’s Note: I thought about this while watching Colonial Day and though my setting is very different to begin with it was given further substance by whyoffry and maj_zoidberg444 at LiveJournal and a special thanks to my lovely betas (I had so many ) but in particular whyoffry campmotha and tina_cat
PREVIOUS CHAPTERS
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
It felt like years had passed but in reality it had only been thirty minutes since Cottle had intubated Laura. Adama now stood on one side of the plastic partition that separated him from the sterilized field that served as a make-shift operating room. The scene before him seemed to be moving in slow motion as he watched Cottle ask for various surgical instruments as he attempted to locate the bullets in the Presidents body. Cottle had placed her on the ventilator and the nurses started cutting away Laura’s bloodstained clothes, which now lay in a pile on the floor a few feet from the operating table. Bill looked at the destroyed garments with sympathy. One of Laura’s only three suits have officially been decommissioned. He felt a pang of sorrow as he drew his eyes away from the suit and over to Laura’s sheet-clad body.
Bill heard the hatch open and saw Billy step through the hatchway. The young aid walked over to the Commander and greeted him. “Sir I just heard,” Billy said. “How is she?”
“Cottle took her into surgery about a half hour ago,” Bill said. “He said it’s going to take hours.”
“How many bullets did she take?” Billy asked.
“Three,” Adama replied. “Two to the chest and one to the abdomen and one of which caused her lung to collapse.”
Billy took a deep breathe as he tried to suppress the bile rising in his throat. The site of his boss lying on the operating table with a hole cut into her chest distressed him. He knew that the President of the Twelve Colonies had been nearing the end of her life but he had never expected for her to get shot a few weeks prior to her death. He still remembered the first time he accompanied her to the Galactica after the attacks. She had made a comment about only having three outfits to last the rest of her life. Billy thought that she looked fine but she glanced at him and playfully accused him of being ignorant on the subject of women. To him she had always been the lively vivacious woman that was willing to do anything. Now she was frail, weak, and helpless.
Watching the operation was a bit like watching a mining accident on Arilon. Billy couldn’t stand to watch Cottle operate on his motionless boss as a machine breathed for her but he couldn’t leave either. Billy could make out only a few brief words that Cottle was saying to his nurses. Bullet? Close to her aorta? Fatal? It was all a hodge-podge of words to the public speaker.
“The press is demanding to know about the President’s condition,” Billy said. “What should I tell them?”
Bill breathed in for a moment and let out an exasperated breath. “Tell them that she was injured during a public appearance and that Cottle has her on the operating table right now. Let them know that there won’t be any news for several hours at which point you’ll talk to them again about her current condition. As of now all you can say is that she’s still alive and in surgery.”
“Commander Adama report to CIC,” a voice announced over the intercom.
Adama looked at Laura’s still form wearily. He didn’t want to leave her when she needed him the most, but no matter what he knew somewhere in his subconscious if he lost the fleet then she would die of guilt. He took one last look at the President before turning to Billy and placing a hand on his shoulder. “Everything will be okay son. She’s a fighter.”
Billy nodded as Adama made his way out of the Life Station hatch and in the direction of CIC.
***
“What the hell is going on?” Adama said as he entered CIC to find Colonel Tigh and Lieutenant Gaeta standing around the center table going over some wireless printouts.
“Sorry to disturb you sir, but we thought that you would want to see this,” Lieutenant Gaeta said as he handed the Admiral a transcript of the transmission.
Bill sighed as he read the document, his face growing redder with each word.
TO: The Colonial Fleet
RE: The Assassination of President Roslin
Do not fear us for we are here to bring you salvation. The Pythian prophecy foretells us of a dying leader that will lead us to salvation but will not live to set foot into the new land. While some might say that President Roslin has not showed us the path to salvation yet it can be argued that when she arrived back on Galactica from Kobol with the general direction of Earth she completed her role in the Pythian prophecy.
We do not mean to scare you or to cause the Colonial fleet to have reservations about our current form of government. It was a collective decision that Laura Roslin had to die. Her death should onset a faster discovery of Earth and allows us to get off these ships a little bit faster. Enclosed are passages from the Pythian prophecy that justify our decision...
Bill couldn’t read another word of this religious dribble. Bill denied the fact that Laura was the dying leader. He wasn’t willing to let her go as easily as they thought. “These people, whoever they are, are going to pay for their sins.”
“Who sent this?” Bill inquired.
“It came off the wireless about ten minutes ago. The origin was scrambled. We don’t know who sent it,” Lieutenant Gaeta replied.
“What do you make of it?” Tigh asked.
“These people need better fact checkers,” Bill muttered. He looked up to see the baffled faces of his colleagues.
“Aside from that Bill? Who do you think sent this out?” Tigh asked.
“We can rule out any atheists among the fleet, they seem to be religious in nature. I would also rule out children and teenagers but I would interview people on the Astral Queen. See if there’s a religious zealot there that might be involved with this,” Bill said.
“Alright, we’ll check,” Tigh said.
“Take Starbuck and Apollo with you,” Bill said.
“Of course sir,” Lieutenant Gaeta said. “If you don’t mind me asking, with this knowledge broadcasted over the fleet, how will we know when we’ve caught the right suspect?”
“We’ll know,” Bill assured before turning to Dee. “Send a message to the fleet,” he waited while Dee prepared to take down his dictation. “Message reads: Disregard that last transmition.”
Author: coexist_love
Rating: MA
Fandom: Battlestar Galactica 2003
Character: General with Roslin/Adama emphasis
Summary: A normal day on among the fleet is disturbed when an unidentified assailant attempts to assassinate President Roslin.
Disclaimer: Not written for money and if I owned Galactica this would have already happened.
Spoilers: Flight of the Pheonix through Epiphanies
Author’s Note: I thought about this while watching Colonial Day and though my setting is very different to begin with it was given further substance by whyoffry and maj_zoidberg444 at LiveJournal and a special thanks to my lovely betas (I had so many ) but in particular whyoffry campmotha and tina_cat
PREVIOUS CHAPTERS
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
It felt like years had passed but in reality it had only been thirty minutes since Cottle had intubated Laura. Adama now stood on one side of the plastic partition that separated him from the sterilized field that served as a make-shift operating room. The scene before him seemed to be moving in slow motion as he watched Cottle ask for various surgical instruments as he attempted to locate the bullets in the Presidents body. Cottle had placed her on the ventilator and the nurses started cutting away Laura’s bloodstained clothes, which now lay in a pile on the floor a few feet from the operating table. Bill looked at the destroyed garments with sympathy. One of Laura’s only three suits have officially been decommissioned. He felt a pang of sorrow as he drew his eyes away from the suit and over to Laura’s sheet-clad body.
Bill heard the hatch open and saw Billy step through the hatchway. The young aid walked over to the Commander and greeted him. “Sir I just heard,” Billy said. “How is she?”
“Cottle took her into surgery about a half hour ago,” Bill said. “He said it’s going to take hours.”
“How many bullets did she take?” Billy asked.
“Three,” Adama replied. “Two to the chest and one to the abdomen and one of which caused her lung to collapse.”
Billy took a deep breathe as he tried to suppress the bile rising in his throat. The site of his boss lying on the operating table with a hole cut into her chest distressed him. He knew that the President of the Twelve Colonies had been nearing the end of her life but he had never expected for her to get shot a few weeks prior to her death. He still remembered the first time he accompanied her to the Galactica after the attacks. She had made a comment about only having three outfits to last the rest of her life. Billy thought that she looked fine but she glanced at him and playfully accused him of being ignorant on the subject of women. To him she had always been the lively vivacious woman that was willing to do anything. Now she was frail, weak, and helpless.
Watching the operation was a bit like watching a mining accident on Arilon. Billy couldn’t stand to watch Cottle operate on his motionless boss as a machine breathed for her but he couldn’t leave either. Billy could make out only a few brief words that Cottle was saying to his nurses. Bullet? Close to her aorta? Fatal? It was all a hodge-podge of words to the public speaker.
“The press is demanding to know about the President’s condition,” Billy said. “What should I tell them?”
Bill breathed in for a moment and let out an exasperated breath. “Tell them that she was injured during a public appearance and that Cottle has her on the operating table right now. Let them know that there won’t be any news for several hours at which point you’ll talk to them again about her current condition. As of now all you can say is that she’s still alive and in surgery.”
“Commander Adama report to CIC,” a voice announced over the intercom.
Adama looked at Laura’s still form wearily. He didn’t want to leave her when she needed him the most, but no matter what he knew somewhere in his subconscious if he lost the fleet then she would die of guilt. He took one last look at the President before turning to Billy and placing a hand on his shoulder. “Everything will be okay son. She’s a fighter.”
Billy nodded as Adama made his way out of the Life Station hatch and in the direction of CIC.
***
“What the hell is going on?” Adama said as he entered CIC to find Colonel Tigh and Lieutenant Gaeta standing around the center table going over some wireless printouts.
“Sorry to disturb you sir, but we thought that you would want to see this,” Lieutenant Gaeta said as he handed the Admiral a transcript of the transmission.
Bill sighed as he read the document, his face growing redder with each word.
TO: The Colonial Fleet
RE: The Assassination of President Roslin
Do not fear us for we are here to bring you salvation. The Pythian prophecy foretells us of a dying leader that will lead us to salvation but will not live to set foot into the new land. While some might say that President Roslin has not showed us the path to salvation yet it can be argued that when she arrived back on Galactica from Kobol with the general direction of Earth she completed her role in the Pythian prophecy.
We do not mean to scare you or to cause the Colonial fleet to have reservations about our current form of government. It was a collective decision that Laura Roslin had to die. Her death should onset a faster discovery of Earth and allows us to get off these ships a little bit faster. Enclosed are passages from the Pythian prophecy that justify our decision...
Bill couldn’t read another word of this religious dribble. Bill denied the fact that Laura was the dying leader. He wasn’t willing to let her go as easily as they thought. “These people, whoever they are, are going to pay for their sins.”
“Who sent this?” Bill inquired.
“It came off the wireless about ten minutes ago. The origin was scrambled. We don’t know who sent it,” Lieutenant Gaeta replied.
“What do you make of it?” Tigh asked.
“These people need better fact checkers,” Bill muttered. He looked up to see the baffled faces of his colleagues.
“Aside from that Bill? Who do you think sent this out?” Tigh asked.
“We can rule out any atheists among the fleet, they seem to be religious in nature. I would also rule out children and teenagers but I would interview people on the Astral Queen. See if there’s a religious zealot there that might be involved with this,” Bill said.
“Alright, we’ll check,” Tigh said.
“Take Starbuck and Apollo with you,” Bill said.
“Of course sir,” Lieutenant Gaeta said. “If you don’t mind me asking, with this knowledge broadcasted over the fleet, how will we know when we’ve caught the right suspect?”
“We’ll know,” Bill assured before turning to Dee. “Send a message to the fleet,” he waited while Dee prepared to take down his dictation. “Message reads: Disregard that last transmition.”