Friction

Missing/extended scene from the mini-series

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Fraking Secretary of fraking Education.

Her voice still echoed in his head:

"Do you plan to declare martial law? Take over the government?"

Sanctimonious little school teacher.

Crew members took one look at his face as he stormed from the ward room to CIC and made a hole for him. A very large hole.

Frak. He tried schooling his face into its normal impassivity, but his blood still boiled.

"I honestly don't know why I have to keep telling you this, but the war is over."

Really? He'd show her the end of a war.

A marine who was a little slow off the mark only just managed to get the hatch to CIC open a moment before he would have barreled right into it.

What they needed to do was regroup. There were a number of Colonial warships missing from the official list of losses. He'd find another battlestar or two. And then…

Starbuck's voice crackled over the wireless, reporting on the situation outside the safe haven of Ragnar Anchorage.

"…It looks like two Base Stars, with ten fighter squadrons and two recon drone detachments patrolling the area… By the way they're deployed, I'd say they were waiting for us to come to them."

His jaw clenched, a sick feeling building in the pit of his stomach. The Cylons had found them - probably due to that device Doral had planted on the ship. Frak.

'Roslin is right,' a little voice whispered in his head. He firmly told that voice to shut up.

"I'm not going to play their game, and try to fight our way out of here," he ground out. "Can we plot a jump from here?"

Saul doubted it was possible, with the interference from the storm mucking up the FTL fix. Gaeta concurred. Double frak.

Lee brought up the problem of the civilians.

"We have fifty thousand people left, and that's it," Roslin's voice repeated in his head.

He noticed Roslin's young aide - what's his name - approach Dee. Their conversation appeared to be awkward; stilted. Like a young man and a young woman getting to know one another. At any other time, he would have looked on with the amused condescension of someone older, who had been through all that before.

So young. Dee was what, 23? 24?

"We need to get the hell out of here, and we need to start having babies."

This time, he didn't try and silence that inner voice, but unconsciously echoed the words out loud.

The conversation between Lee, Saul and Gaeta came to a screeching halt. They glanced at each other, bewildered by their CO's apparent non-sequiter.

Saul followed his gaze to where the two young people were in conversation.

"Is that an order?" he asked in an amused tone of voice, cocking an eyebrow. It was the first almost-levity that Adama had heard in a while.

"It may be before too long," he replied, semi-seriously. There was nothing for it; she'd been right. "Okay, we're taking the civilians with us."

"We're running?" Saul queried the sudden turn about in his CO's attitude. Adama couldn't blame him for the surprise.

"The war is over."

"War's over. We lost." Again, he echoed Roslin's words out loud. Was she becoming his conscience now?

If they made it out of this alive, he realized he owed the woman an apology. She'd been able to see the situation clearly and logically from the start. Maybe she would be able to hold things together while they ran for their lives.

He issued orders for the battle plan with a heavy heart, knowing as he did so that people under his command were about to die: a ship this old couldn't take on two Base Stars.

Galactica might die, but she'd die saving the remains of humanity.