Fic: The Black Ships, Part VI
Title: The Black Ships
Author: Major Fischer
Universe: Battlestar Galactica/The West Wing Crossover
Pairings: Roslin/Adama, with some Roslin/Zarek
Notes: So yes, this story in earlier incarnations has appeared but this is essentially a total rewrite and shouldn't even be considered the same fic. Many thanks to melyanna for inspiring me with her excellent (and highly recommended) west_gate series. This is a Facebook for those of you unfamiliar with one side of the crossover. Also thanks to alesia027 for her help making this more coherent.
Chronology: This takes place in BSG's second season after Epiphanies but before Sacrefices, and in the West Wing's mid sixth season. Spoilers beyond that point are unlikely.
Summary: A few weeks before Christmas, late in the Bartlet Presidency, a fleet of interstellar refugees arrive at Earth and changed the world. But is it the end of the saga, or the beginning of a much more complicated one?
Part I
Part II
Part III
Part IV
Part V
The night before, after everyone had gone to bed, a cold wind had blown in and brought with it eight inches of new snow, practically shutting down the capital. Bill Adama pressed his hands deeper into the pockets of his overcoat as the cold wind whistled down the broad avenues of Washington, DC. He paused on the sidewalk outside of Blair House where the temporary Colonial embassy was being set up. Turning in place, he surveyed the landscape and his eyes stopped on the hints of ancient architecture on many of the white government buildings. If these people did not remember the Exodus, they certainly had an ancient memory of something else.
“Echoes of Kobol.”
“Excuse me, sir?” asked Lieutenant Gaeta next to him.
“Nothing. We should get out of the cold and stop standing outside in a snow storm like crazy men.”
If the city was asleep outside under the new blanket of snow, inside Blair House the President’s staff was rushing about as if they hadn’t slept in days. Tory Foster almost certainly hadn’t. Adama smiled just a bit at seeing Laura Roslin standing alone in the center of chaos, marveling, not for the first time, at the surprising strength of this woman. Had he met her at a party two years ago he would never have seen the sharp mind or the seeming endless reservoirs of inner strength and determination he had so disastrously tripped over a few months before.
He might have seen her intelligence, and he might have even found her attractive, but he doubted that if anyone who had known her before attacks had met her today that they would recognize her at all.
“Ah, Admiral.” Roslin smiled upon seeing him, turning on the charm that always made him wonder who the real Laura Roslin was. “I’ve been inside all day. Would you care to go for a walk with me?”
“Why did I know you’d want to go outside?” he asked, returning her smile with one of his own.
She handed him a small note in her slanted flowing handwriting, ‘We are still searching for listening devices.’
He nodded and handed the note back to her. It was, after all, why he had brought Lieutenant Gaeta with him. “I serve at your pleasure, Madam President.”
After Billy slipped on her coat, Adama had an overwhelming urge to offer her his arm. As they stepped outside, two secret service agents, along with two of Roslin’s own presidential detail began to follow at a distance. She almost shyly slipped her gloved hand into the crook of his arm.
“It’s good to know we're operating on a level of trust with the long lost cousins.”
“I would like to trust them not to have bugged the building, but were I in President Bartlet’s position, I would have.”
“Laura, often I worry about the things you would be willing to do.” It was a rare candid moment where he not only spoke his mind but also called her by her first name.
She didn’t respond to his comment, but walked next to him in silence for a time. “I do what I think I have to do for the survival of humanity. Our part of humanity,” she added quietly.
“At the cost of your own?”
To his surprise, she nodded. “Yes, even at the cost of my own. You can be human enough for both of us.” He didn’t quite know what to say to that and as they walked past a tall stone obelisk that he had been told was the Washington Monument she leaned into him. “We have to discuss what to tell them about the Cylons.”
“That's going to be messy. What exactly do they know now?”
“That our world was destroyed by a genocidal military force called the Cylons. We haven’t told them about their origins, or their ability to look human, or their motives.”
“Do we even understand their motives?” He arched an eyebrow at her.
“Point.”
“From what I’ve seen of their military capabilities this planet is a sitting duck. If the Cylons jumped into this system, the only defense they would have is Galactica. Even though they have a lot of nuclear weapons… without an effective delivery means they are no better than rocks.”
“Expensive, radioactive destabilizing, rocks, Admiral. Why would you create weapons that would contaminate your own side through the winds if you were only fighting planetary wars?”
“Because weapons designers are short-sighted and politicians will do what they think they need to do.” He looked down at her, as if to put a point on her own comment about being human.
“At some point we should see about acquiring some to replenish our own stockpiles.”
“And that brings us back to the Cylons.” He covered the hand she had crooked in his arm with his own.
“We could tell them they were created by an alien race bent upon human destruction.”
He shook his head at the thought of deceiving the people of what they all hoped would be their new home. “Or we could tell them that we created them and they are bent upon human destruction. I’m not sure which is worse. The truth might be more helpful and we could warn them about the path they are on. I’ve been having Dee and Lieutenant Gaeta monitor their communications. They are heavily reliant on networked computers and wireless communications.”
Laura shook her head, “What a mess. Frakked if we tell them, and frakked if we don’t.”
“I thought that was what politics was all about, Madam President.” When he looked over at her, and beyond her at the red brick fortress and a statute on horseback, he waited for her to laugh. Or not. Pinning down Roslin’s sense of humor was only slightly easier than pinning down her motives.
She leaned down and picked up a clump of snow, examining it thoughtfully. “You are very cynical at times, Admiral.”
“About politics? Remember my father was a lawyer? I learned not to trust politicians before I learned to walk.” He caught her eyes with his own a smirk forming on his lips. “Besides you have a shifty look about you…”
Before he could finish his sentence, the well-packed snowball Laura had been surreptitiously forming impacted against his chest. Her maniacal laughter echoed off the museums around them until a fluffy ball of packed powder hit Roslin. Soon hastily packed missiles were flying in both directions and President and Admiral were both covered in snow. During a lull in the snow fight, Laura managed to get close enough to slip snow down Adama’s shirt, and was rewarded with a righteous howl.
“You fight dirty! And you have a mean fast ball.”
“Believe it or not I used to play pyramid a million years ago.” Laura just smiled. “And years of practice throwing erasers at students.”
“You must have been one hell of a teacher.”
“Damn straight I was.”
**~**~**
Tom Zarek watched out the window as President Roslin and Adama came back from their walk, covered in snow and laughing. A pang of jealousy he knew he had no right to welled up as she brushed a bit of snow from the Admiral’s overcoat and said goodbye when he got into a black SUV to speed back to the air base. Adama had only come down to have a discussion with the President and would now be returning to the Fleet. It didn’t make sense to any of them to have both the Admiral and the President on the planet for very long.
Zarek had known that he had feelings for Roslin for a very long time. He had to laugh when he thought about it. He was the consummate political animal and in first few weeks after the attacks he had felt certain that he could undermine and replace this amateurish school teacher without much difficulty. Moreover, that humanity would be better for it. A clean sweep of Adar’s lot, an end to an unjust society, and a new beginning for humanity without the inequalities of Colonial society.
He had vastly underestimated Laura Roslin, and he knew it soon after his first encounter with her on Colonial Day. Here was this woman with no military experience that enjoyed the support of the military, and who would be coldly logical when she had to while still making most people believe she was sweet and motherly. He would have been her biggest booster were it not for her disturbing messianic tendencies.
“Billy said you wanted to see me, Mr. Zarek?”
He nearly jumped at her voice behind him, realizing that he had been lost in thought for too long. When he turned to face her, he had turned on his charming smile.
“Yes, I was wondering if you had dinner plans tonight, Madam President.” He resisted the urge to call her Laura, part of him knew with certainty that she would turn him down if he did.
“Not that I know of.”
“President Bartlet’s adviser, Leo McGarry, gave me the address of a good steak house in Georgetown. I thought maybe we should take advantage of the opportunity to have a good private meal before all hell breaks loose when they announce our presence to the public.”
Her head tilted to the side for a moment. “Are you asking me out on a date, Mr. Zarek?”
“Only if you want it to be that, otherwise it’s just a steak dinner.” He wanted to catch her eyes, to gauge her reaction, but as always, when it seemed she wanted to hide her thoughts, her glasses shielded them from view. It wasn’t until she smiled that he knew he had scored a success.
“I would be honored, Tom.”
**~**~**
Kate Harper was surprised to see Laura Roslin walking into the White House Communications bullpen late at night. She had an overcoat on and was wearing one of the same three suits Kate had seen her in before, probably the only three she owned. “Can I help you, Madam President?”
Roslin smiled. “I’m looking for my aide, Billy. Someone told me that two of your staff were taking him out drinking.”
Harper smiled. “Josh and Charlie… I suspect when he does come back he’ll be pretty hammered.”
The alien president winced, and then shook her head. “I’m not sure how much Billy can hold his liquor. That will be … interesting.”
“Getting people drunk is always interesting. At least until they throw up, and then it's just messy.” The comment came from behind Kate, but she knew it was Abigail Bartlet’s voice. At least Roslin was still smiling. “You look like you could use getting plastered yourself, Laura.”
Roslin nodded. “It’s been a long, weird evening.”
“Weird how?” Kate tilted her head to the side.
“Men.”
“Oh, now you really need to get plastered. I think I have a couple of bottles of wine hidden upstairs.” It was a bit of a joke. The First Lady didn’t need to hide liquor-she could just order it from the stewards. Either way, Kate was starting to get slightly alarmed.
This had the makings of a diplomatic incident, or an intelligence coup. “Mind if I join you?”
**~**~**
The first bottle of wine was long gone before Roslin relaxed, and a second gone before she started giggling as she spoke. “So I have one man who can’t decide what to do about me… besides chaste but very adorable kisses and throwing me in the brig… but I don’t think that had anything to do with liking me… and another who apparently is in puppy love, without me having even noticed.”
“That doesn’t sound like that much of a problem. Well, the brig thing might be, but you never know,” Abbey said as she poured herself another glass of wine. Kate had carefully tried not to get anywhere near as drunk as the other two women were, but she was acting the part. “Especially with how that one looks… Zarek.”
“I don’t know, ma’am. I saw the Admiral when he arrived at Andrews. I can see where he has his charms.”
Roslin smiled wistfully. “Thank you, Commander Harper. The Admiral does have his own unique charm. But so does Tom Zarek…for a terrorist.”
“Terrorist?” Kate sat up a little. “Mrs. Bartlet, the wine…” The First Lady stopped pouring just at the rim of the glass, and had to lean over a little to sip from the glass so it wouldn’t slop on the floor when she picked it up.
“Zarek is from a colony named Sagittaron, smallest population of the twelve, the least amount of political influence. They probably gained the least when the Colonies united. There were some scandals, large corporations polluting the environment. Zarek and his friends blew up government buildings to get peoples attention. He was in prison for twenty years, and happened to be on his way to a parole hearing when the attacks happened. Some believe him to be a prisoner of conscious.” Laura paused. “I, however, am not one of them.”
“If he tried to overthrow the government, why is he in yours?” Kate wished now that she had brought a recorder, and that she had had even less to drink than she had.
“He’s not in my administration; he’s the representative of the Quorum of Twelve here to make sure I behave.”
“I bet Congress would have that kind of twisted sense of humor if they were going to send a representative,” Kate said.
“Oh, no, Kate, they would have sent Andi Wyatt and she’s her own special kind of crazy.” Abbey raised an eyebrow and turned back to Roslin. “And to hit on you?”
“Apparently, I remind him of his wife.”
“That’s never a good way to start off a conversation.”
“Yes, well, his dead wife, but you have a point. What do you say when a man you don’t particularly like professes a crush on you?”
“Besides throw things at him?” Abbey put in.
“Or toss him out an airlock… those aren’t as handy down here.”
“Do you toss people out airlocks often?” Kate asked.
Roslin developed a slightly disturbing small smile and giggled again. “Far more often than I care to think about.”
The statement hung in the air for a very long time, and mixed with Roslin’s drunken giggles, it added to the surreal air of the conversation. Kate Harper wondered if someone had left a window open for the cold chill that went down her spine.
… to be continued …
Next Chapter: Part VII
Author: Major Fischer
Universe: Battlestar Galactica/The West Wing Crossover
Pairings: Roslin/Adama, with some Roslin/Zarek
Notes: So yes, this story in earlier incarnations has appeared but this is essentially a total rewrite and shouldn't even be considered the same fic. Many thanks to melyanna for inspiring me with her excellent (and highly recommended) west_gate series. This is a Facebook for those of you unfamiliar with one side of the crossover. Also thanks to alesia027 for her help making this more coherent.
Chronology: This takes place in BSG's second season after Epiphanies but before Sacrefices, and in the West Wing's mid sixth season. Spoilers beyond that point are unlikely.
Summary: A few weeks before Christmas, late in the Bartlet Presidency, a fleet of interstellar refugees arrive at Earth and changed the world. But is it the end of the saga, or the beginning of a much more complicated one?
Part I
Part II
Part III
Part IV
Part V
The night before, after everyone had gone to bed, a cold wind had blown in and brought with it eight inches of new snow, practically shutting down the capital. Bill Adama pressed his hands deeper into the pockets of his overcoat as the cold wind whistled down the broad avenues of Washington, DC. He paused on the sidewalk outside of Blair House where the temporary Colonial embassy was being set up. Turning in place, he surveyed the landscape and his eyes stopped on the hints of ancient architecture on many of the white government buildings. If these people did not remember the Exodus, they certainly had an ancient memory of something else.
“Echoes of Kobol.”
“Excuse me, sir?” asked Lieutenant Gaeta next to him.
“Nothing. We should get out of the cold and stop standing outside in a snow storm like crazy men.”
If the city was asleep outside under the new blanket of snow, inside Blair House the President’s staff was rushing about as if they hadn’t slept in days. Tory Foster almost certainly hadn’t. Adama smiled just a bit at seeing Laura Roslin standing alone in the center of chaos, marveling, not for the first time, at the surprising strength of this woman. Had he met her at a party two years ago he would never have seen the sharp mind or the seeming endless reservoirs of inner strength and determination he had so disastrously tripped over a few months before.
He might have seen her intelligence, and he might have even found her attractive, but he doubted that if anyone who had known her before attacks had met her today that they would recognize her at all.
“Ah, Admiral.” Roslin smiled upon seeing him, turning on the charm that always made him wonder who the real Laura Roslin was. “I’ve been inside all day. Would you care to go for a walk with me?”
“Why did I know you’d want to go outside?” he asked, returning her smile with one of his own.
She handed him a small note in her slanted flowing handwriting, ‘We are still searching for listening devices.’
He nodded and handed the note back to her. It was, after all, why he had brought Lieutenant Gaeta with him. “I serve at your pleasure, Madam President.”
After Billy slipped on her coat, Adama had an overwhelming urge to offer her his arm. As they stepped outside, two secret service agents, along with two of Roslin’s own presidential detail began to follow at a distance. She almost shyly slipped her gloved hand into the crook of his arm.
“It’s good to know we're operating on a level of trust with the long lost cousins.”
“I would like to trust them not to have bugged the building, but were I in President Bartlet’s position, I would have.”
“Laura, often I worry about the things you would be willing to do.” It was a rare candid moment where he not only spoke his mind but also called her by her first name.
She didn’t respond to his comment, but walked next to him in silence for a time. “I do what I think I have to do for the survival of humanity. Our part of humanity,” she added quietly.
“At the cost of your own?”
To his surprise, she nodded. “Yes, even at the cost of my own. You can be human enough for both of us.” He didn’t quite know what to say to that and as they walked past a tall stone obelisk that he had been told was the Washington Monument she leaned into him. “We have to discuss what to tell them about the Cylons.”
“That's going to be messy. What exactly do they know now?”
“That our world was destroyed by a genocidal military force called the Cylons. We haven’t told them about their origins, or their ability to look human, or their motives.”
“Do we even understand their motives?” He arched an eyebrow at her.
“Point.”
“From what I’ve seen of their military capabilities this planet is a sitting duck. If the Cylons jumped into this system, the only defense they would have is Galactica. Even though they have a lot of nuclear weapons… without an effective delivery means they are no better than rocks.”
“Expensive, radioactive destabilizing, rocks, Admiral. Why would you create weapons that would contaminate your own side through the winds if you were only fighting planetary wars?”
“Because weapons designers are short-sighted and politicians will do what they think they need to do.” He looked down at her, as if to put a point on her own comment about being human.
“At some point we should see about acquiring some to replenish our own stockpiles.”
“And that brings us back to the Cylons.” He covered the hand she had crooked in his arm with his own.
“We could tell them they were created by an alien race bent upon human destruction.”
He shook his head at the thought of deceiving the people of what they all hoped would be their new home. “Or we could tell them that we created them and they are bent upon human destruction. I’m not sure which is worse. The truth might be more helpful and we could warn them about the path they are on. I’ve been having Dee and Lieutenant Gaeta monitor their communications. They are heavily reliant on networked computers and wireless communications.”
Laura shook her head, “What a mess. Frakked if we tell them, and frakked if we don’t.”
“I thought that was what politics was all about, Madam President.” When he looked over at her, and beyond her at the red brick fortress and a statute on horseback, he waited for her to laugh. Or not. Pinning down Roslin’s sense of humor was only slightly easier than pinning down her motives.
She leaned down and picked up a clump of snow, examining it thoughtfully. “You are very cynical at times, Admiral.”
“About politics? Remember my father was a lawyer? I learned not to trust politicians before I learned to walk.” He caught her eyes with his own a smirk forming on his lips. “Besides you have a shifty look about you…”
Before he could finish his sentence, the well-packed snowball Laura had been surreptitiously forming impacted against his chest. Her maniacal laughter echoed off the museums around them until a fluffy ball of packed powder hit Roslin. Soon hastily packed missiles were flying in both directions and President and Admiral were both covered in snow. During a lull in the snow fight, Laura managed to get close enough to slip snow down Adama’s shirt, and was rewarded with a righteous howl.
“You fight dirty! And you have a mean fast ball.”
“Believe it or not I used to play pyramid a million years ago.” Laura just smiled. “And years of practice throwing erasers at students.”
“You must have been one hell of a teacher.”
“Damn straight I was.”
**~**~**
Tom Zarek watched out the window as President Roslin and Adama came back from their walk, covered in snow and laughing. A pang of jealousy he knew he had no right to welled up as she brushed a bit of snow from the Admiral’s overcoat and said goodbye when he got into a black SUV to speed back to the air base. Adama had only come down to have a discussion with the President and would now be returning to the Fleet. It didn’t make sense to any of them to have both the Admiral and the President on the planet for very long.
Zarek had known that he had feelings for Roslin for a very long time. He had to laugh when he thought about it. He was the consummate political animal and in first few weeks after the attacks he had felt certain that he could undermine and replace this amateurish school teacher without much difficulty. Moreover, that humanity would be better for it. A clean sweep of Adar’s lot, an end to an unjust society, and a new beginning for humanity without the inequalities of Colonial society.
He had vastly underestimated Laura Roslin, and he knew it soon after his first encounter with her on Colonial Day. Here was this woman with no military experience that enjoyed the support of the military, and who would be coldly logical when she had to while still making most people believe she was sweet and motherly. He would have been her biggest booster were it not for her disturbing messianic tendencies.
“Billy said you wanted to see me, Mr. Zarek?”
He nearly jumped at her voice behind him, realizing that he had been lost in thought for too long. When he turned to face her, he had turned on his charming smile.
“Yes, I was wondering if you had dinner plans tonight, Madam President.” He resisted the urge to call her Laura, part of him knew with certainty that she would turn him down if he did.
“Not that I know of.”
“President Bartlet’s adviser, Leo McGarry, gave me the address of a good steak house in Georgetown. I thought maybe we should take advantage of the opportunity to have a good private meal before all hell breaks loose when they announce our presence to the public.”
Her head tilted to the side for a moment. “Are you asking me out on a date, Mr. Zarek?”
“Only if you want it to be that, otherwise it’s just a steak dinner.” He wanted to catch her eyes, to gauge her reaction, but as always, when it seemed she wanted to hide her thoughts, her glasses shielded them from view. It wasn’t until she smiled that he knew he had scored a success.
“I would be honored, Tom.”
**~**~**
Kate Harper was surprised to see Laura Roslin walking into the White House Communications bullpen late at night. She had an overcoat on and was wearing one of the same three suits Kate had seen her in before, probably the only three she owned. “Can I help you, Madam President?”
Roslin smiled. “I’m looking for my aide, Billy. Someone told me that two of your staff were taking him out drinking.”
Harper smiled. “Josh and Charlie… I suspect when he does come back he’ll be pretty hammered.”
The alien president winced, and then shook her head. “I’m not sure how much Billy can hold his liquor. That will be … interesting.”
“Getting people drunk is always interesting. At least until they throw up, and then it's just messy.” The comment came from behind Kate, but she knew it was Abigail Bartlet’s voice. At least Roslin was still smiling. “You look like you could use getting plastered yourself, Laura.”
Roslin nodded. “It’s been a long, weird evening.”
“Weird how?” Kate tilted her head to the side.
“Men.”
“Oh, now you really need to get plastered. I think I have a couple of bottles of wine hidden upstairs.” It was a bit of a joke. The First Lady didn’t need to hide liquor-she could just order it from the stewards. Either way, Kate was starting to get slightly alarmed.
This had the makings of a diplomatic incident, or an intelligence coup. “Mind if I join you?”
**~**~**
The first bottle of wine was long gone before Roslin relaxed, and a second gone before she started giggling as she spoke. “So I have one man who can’t decide what to do about me… besides chaste but very adorable kisses and throwing me in the brig… but I don’t think that had anything to do with liking me… and another who apparently is in puppy love, without me having even noticed.”
“That doesn’t sound like that much of a problem. Well, the brig thing might be, but you never know,” Abbey said as she poured herself another glass of wine. Kate had carefully tried not to get anywhere near as drunk as the other two women were, but she was acting the part. “Especially with how that one looks… Zarek.”
“I don’t know, ma’am. I saw the Admiral when he arrived at Andrews. I can see where he has his charms.”
Roslin smiled wistfully. “Thank you, Commander Harper. The Admiral does have his own unique charm. But so does Tom Zarek…for a terrorist.”
“Terrorist?” Kate sat up a little. “Mrs. Bartlet, the wine…” The First Lady stopped pouring just at the rim of the glass, and had to lean over a little to sip from the glass so it wouldn’t slop on the floor when she picked it up.
“Zarek is from a colony named Sagittaron, smallest population of the twelve, the least amount of political influence. They probably gained the least when the Colonies united. There were some scandals, large corporations polluting the environment. Zarek and his friends blew up government buildings to get peoples attention. He was in prison for twenty years, and happened to be on his way to a parole hearing when the attacks happened. Some believe him to be a prisoner of conscious.” Laura paused. “I, however, am not one of them.”
“If he tried to overthrow the government, why is he in yours?” Kate wished now that she had brought a recorder, and that she had had even less to drink than she had.
“He’s not in my administration; he’s the representative of the Quorum of Twelve here to make sure I behave.”
“I bet Congress would have that kind of twisted sense of humor if they were going to send a representative,” Kate said.
“Oh, no, Kate, they would have sent Andi Wyatt and she’s her own special kind of crazy.” Abbey raised an eyebrow and turned back to Roslin. “And to hit on you?”
“Apparently, I remind him of his wife.”
“That’s never a good way to start off a conversation.”
“Yes, well, his dead wife, but you have a point. What do you say when a man you don’t particularly like professes a crush on you?”
“Besides throw things at him?” Abbey put in.
“Or toss him out an airlock… those aren’t as handy down here.”
“Do you toss people out airlocks often?” Kate asked.
Roslin developed a slightly disturbing small smile and giggled again. “Far more often than I care to think about.”
The statement hung in the air for a very long time, and mixed with Roslin’s drunken giggles, it added to the surreal air of the conversation. Kate Harper wondered if someone had left a window open for the cold chill that went down her spine.
… to be continued …
Next Chapter: Part VII